#i think i spend too much effort editing these

[tenshi-agerasia]

akatsuki dynamic in my head (yes kuro's ign is a krk pun)

thanks to peer pressure (cough iris cough) i hope this blog will be a little more active with queued posts i dump here

and remember that if i see any ableist comments towards eichi i will not see them because i will have already blocked you

[astonmartinii]

match my freak | yuki tsunoda social media au

pairing: yuki tsunoda x fem rugby player reader

there's only one person who can match the yuki tsunoda radio freak...

MAIN MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

.・゜゜・ part of the aston martini summer olympics ・゜゜・．

yukitsunoda0511

liked by pierregasly, danielricciardo and 384,098 others

tagged: yourusername

yukitsunoda0511: spa was fine i guess, time to spend my summer break in france (ew) supporting the love of my life (yay)

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user1: 'fine i guess' as if we didn't get YOINTS

user2: tbf if my gf looked like that, points also wouldn't matter to me

pierregasly: FRANCE (EW)??? DID OUR HOMOEROTIC TENSION MEAN NOTHING???

yukitsunoda0511: oh so when i diss france we had homoerotic tension but when i said we were boyfriends i went too far 🤨

pierregasly: diss me all you want but not the homeland?

yukitsunoda0511: fine, i will from 5pm tomorrow

pierregasly: ???

yukitsunoda0511: because y/n will be there and therefore it will be the ONLY country in existence

pierregasly: i give up

user3: i need a man this down bad for me asap

user4: maybe it's time to lower my height requirements :(

yourusername: it's not how tall you are but how you are tall

user5: idk what the fuck that means

yourusername: IT MEANS SHORT KINGS PUT IN A LOT OF EFFORT WHY DO I HAVE TO SPELL OUT EVERYTHING? WHERE IS THE MEDIA LITERACY? THE READ COMPREHENSION?

user6: okay i think i now know ^^ why y/n and yuki are so good together

user7: i need someone to edit together their most iconic on field and radio moments together please for my mental health

yourusername: that's a crazy coincidence because the love of MY life will also be in paris 🤨

yukitsunoda0511: well i bet i love my love of my life more than you love your love of your life

yourusername: NUH UH

yukitsunoda0511: yep :PPPPPPP

yourusername: u wanna fight?

yukitsunoda0511: yes actually!

yourusername: well soz babe i can't get all hot and bothered before competing 🤷‍♀️

yukitsunoda0511: BORING

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly and 318,905 others

tagged: yukitsunoda

yourusername: seeing yuki again: 10/10 ... realising he's not allowed in the olympic village and there's only cardboard beds anyway -100,000/10

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user12: so i suddenly understand why they give out so many condoms at the olympics

user13: why do they all go so feral?

yourusername: have you seen my man?

yourusername: AND THAT'S A RHETORICAL QUESTION TO SHOW OFF MY HANDSOME LITTLE MAN NOT AN INVITATION FOR YOU BITCHES TO THIRST

user14: noted 😔

pierregasly: i'm the one with a bad digital footprint but you're out here being just as horny as me on main

yourusername: i am allowed to ?

pierregasly: and i'm not allowed to?

yourusername: no

pierregasly: so fuck me i guess?

yourusername: let me be a woman in a male dominated field (being gross online)

yukitsunoda0511: yeah pierre stop trying to minimise womens' voices

pierregasly: how am i the bad guy again?

yourusername: man ❤️

pierregasly: yuki is a man?

yourusername: he's MY man which means he's been closely vetted and is basically one of the girls now

user14: i know visa cashapp rb or whatever the fuck they're called hate to see them coming

user15: it's the fact she's taller than most of the mechanics and she is always watching over them

yukitsunoda0511: i missed you so much but i can't wait to watch you beat the shit out of the competition

yourusername: for you, anything

yukitsunoda0511: a gold? so at least one of us can be world champion 🥺

yourusername: i'll win gold for you and then schedule in a friendly visit to see helmut

yukitsunoda0511: i think your mere presence could give him a heart attack

yourusername: oh well

user16: so real of her

olympics

liked by yukitsunoda0511, landonorris and 1,209,678 others

tagged: newzealandrubgy

olympics: the women's rugby final saw gold go home to new zealand!

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user17: okay yuki i am SEEING THE VISION

user18: i watched this game to see her and i am a changed woman

user19: i am no better than a man

danielricciardo: my personal favourite moment was when y/n clotheslined that poor girl, laughed in her face and said if she tried to get past her again she'd make trinket dishes out of her knee caps

yourusername: why thank you, i think my wit is my least appreciated part of my game

danielricciardo: i think we should honestly get you in the commentary box

yourusername: i'd make mince meat of crofty, he'd never say anything about yuki's radios again

danielricciardo: can you tell them to stop telling me to retire while you're at it?

yourusername: sure, i'm feeling generous

danielricciardo: a gold medal will do that to you

user20: so they weren't joking when they said that her and yuki are just the same person in different fonts ?

user21: my commentary team apologised about 20 times for her swearing on the broadcast but then they kept bursting out laughing whenever she said anything

yukitsunoda0511: HOLY FUCKING SHIT

yukitsunoda0511: GOAT GOAT GOAT MY GIRLFRIEND IS THE GOAT

yukitsunoda0511: i'm so proud, i love you y/n 🫶🏻🥹❤️‍🩹

yourusername: i love you too boo

yukitsunoda0511: can they let me in the room now? i'm getting withdrawal symptoms :(

yourusername: of course, i can't celebrate properly without you

yukitsunoda0511: 😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄

user22: picturing yuki waiting outside the team room is so cute

user23: the nz team instagram posted a pic of it on their story he had flowers and balloons (∩˃o˂∩)♡

yukitsunoda0511

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 893,401 others

tagged: yourusername

yukitsunoda0511: she matches my freak :)

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user25: oh believe me we know

user26: i'm like a confusing mix of scared AND turned on

yukitsunoda0511: you keep that to yourself

user27: okay sir 🤨

yukitsunoda0511: you can look but you can't touch :P

yukitsunoda0511: actually don't even look

yukitsunoda0511: don't even think about her ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡)

user28: this man is insane, i love him

yourusername: you LIKE HIM YOU APPRECIATE HIM FROM AFAR YOU MAYBE HAVE A PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIP YOU DON'T LOVE HIM THAT'S FOR ME AND ME ONLY

user29: oh they weren't joking about matching each other's freaks

yourusername: there's no one else i'd like to be a lil gremlin with :3

yukitsunoda0511: gremlins forever with you <3

yourusername: sounds like paradise to me !!

yukitsunoda0511: i'm on it ✍🏻

user30: is he going to propose ???

user31: hopefully (ㅅ •᷄ ₃•᷅ )

pierregasly: yeah i guess you guys are kinda cute

yukitsunoda0511: kINDA?

yourusername: i know this man ain't speaking on us

yourusername: kika is the face economy in that relationship

yourusername: her back must hurt from carrying the style in this couple

francisca.cgomez: well 🥹

pierregasly: WHAT ? HOW ?

yukitsunoda0511: don't call my girlfriend kinda cute then 🤨

user32: good lord

fin.

note: she's back !!!!!

[salemrph]

"A Hunter's Christmas Hustle" Sylus x MC

Summary: With Christmas around the corner, you’re on a mission to find the perfect gift for everyone, that's included Sylus, a famously tricky person to shop for. You asked for help but can the twins really help you? Sometimes the effort is the best part of the holiday magic.

Character: MC x Sylus

Genre: holiday comedy, slice-of-life, fluff | Pet names : Kitten, Sweetie, Miss Hunter.

| Word count: 3.916 | Reading Time: 16 min |

A/N: Since this is the first Christmas of Love and Deepspace, at least for me, I'm looking forward for a special Event and have a cute moment between Sylus and MC.

You lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It still feels a bit strange staying at Sylus’ place on your days off. Well, it was mostly his doing— he’d insist or come up with some random excuse or side mission to make you stay. So, at the end you agree to come visit him without needing to drag you in dirty business. It's cozy here, even if you’re not quite used to it yet.

Like always you scroll through your phone, noticing you getting a lot of Christmas ads. You squint at the screen, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the holiday promotions. Suddenly, you glance at the date on your phone. Fuck! Christmas is in 1 week. And you haven’t prepared anything. Weren’t there also a Party coming up with the team? No, no, no! You go trough the calendar. There is it: 24 of December. Christmas Party with Team.

You need to go shopping, ordering stuff now would only arrive too late. 

“Okay, okay,” you mutter, trying to make a mental checklist. “I need a present for Tera, flowers for Grandma’s and Clab’s graves...” You pause, feeling a bit emotional at that thought. You take a deep breath and continue, making a list out loud.

“Then there’s Zayne, Xavier, and Rafayel…” Your head starts spinning as you realize just how much you have to do. 

How could you forget? Have you really been that busy lately? It’s not like the whole city isn’t decked out in lights, giant Christmas ads, and festive music playing in every store. 

You realize with a sigh that maybe you’ve been spending way too much time in the N109 Zone, far from the holiday cheer.

“What can I get for the twins...?” you mumble to yourself. Luke and Kieran can be annoying sometimes, but you do like them. Why not bring them a small gift? Then again, you hesitate. If you get something for the twins, Sylus will definitely bother you about it until the end of your days, asking why he didn’t get anything. You're starting to sweat. Maybe he locks you up again in the basement, just for fun. Or worse, he could show up at the Hunters' Association and declare that you are his lover or something. A shiver runs down your spine. This man can be terrifying. 

You know very well how to please your friends and colleagues but Sylus… What do you bring to the man that has everything? 

“Why is he even so fucking rich?” you mutter under your breath, looking around the guest room. The guest room of course has the style of the rest of the mansion. Black. You roll your eyes, feeling a mix of annoyance and admiration. You flop back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it holds the answers. You need something unique, something meaningful... but what could that be? 

You scroll through your phone frantically, searching for bundles, deals, and last-minute gift ideas. In just an hour, you’ve managed to check off most of your list.

Tera: A relaxing spa voucher—she could use a break.

Zayne: A pack of his favorite macarons, winter edition—he’ll love them.

Xavier: A cozy new sweater—you’ve told him a million times not to fall asleep everywhere. You sigh, picturing him dozing off on some random spot.

Rafayel: A unique shell you found on a mission weeks ago. You haven’t had a chance to give it to him yet, but now’s the perfect time.

Flowers: Ordered, check.

You tap your phone, thinking about the twins, Luke and Kieran. What would they like? You decide on some kind of gadget or toy—they’re like two overgrown kids sometimes, and they’ll appreciate anything they can mess around with.

Another hour passes, and you’re still glued to your phone, opening and closing tabs like a mad person. Your brain is starting to fog up from the overload of gift ideas.

“No... no... lame... oh god, definitely not.” You swipe through a blog about gifts for wealthy people and somehow end up on a page titled “Top 10 Gifts for Your Rich Boyfriend.” Your cheeks go bright red as you skim the list: sexy underwear, romantic getaways, candlelit dinners...

“NO!” You throw your phone onto the bed like it’s on fire, covering your face with your hands. What am I even doing?

You take a deep breath, trying to calm down. Maybe you could ask Luke and Kieran for help. They’re close to Sylus and probably know more about his preferences than you do. Plus, he did say you could “use” them whenever you wanted. Why not use them as counselors and pack mules?

Since you don`t want Sylus sniffing around you, you think about a small lie. Or maybe just ask without giving information. The same way he always does 

...

"I need Luke & Kieran for an important mission, can you borrow me them?"

Sylus looks up from his desk, his red eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. He leans back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he regards you. 

"Mission? What are you planning, kitten?" Sylus raises an eyebrow at your words.

"Nothing… jus- they will come back in one piece."

He studies you for a moment, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. He seems to be enjoying your vague and cryptic request, and he's clearly intrigued by what you might be up to. 

"…Alright. You can take them for whatever this 'important mission' is. But they better come back in one piece, or I'm holding you responsible, sweetie. And you don't want to pay the price...“ he snaps his fingers. Both appear immediately. As if they had been hiding in the office. 

"Luke, Kieran, the kitten needs you for a... mission. Do as they say. I expect impeccable work."

"Yes, boss!“ They say in unison.

"Let’s go, guys." I lead them out of the office. "See you, Sylus!"

That was easy. Maybe to easy.

He laughs after the door closes. Wondering how you're going to surprise him this time. He's learned to just go with the flow even though he might have the answer to your little secrets. He just smiled, turning back to focus on his paperwork.

“What are we going to do, miss?” Luke asks with a mischievous grin.

You roll your eyes. “I told you, just call me by my name.”

“Are we blowing something up?” Kieran blurts out, making an exaggerated explosion noise with his mouth.

“Or… cleaning up a messy murder scene?” Luke chimes in, smirking.

“Maybe torture someone!” Kieran’s eyes light up, clearly getting way too excited at the thought.

You sigh, regretting this decision already. They’re like two hyperactive hamsters—deadly, but still hamsters.

“No, no, and no!” you say firmly, waving your hands for emphasis.

“Uuuhhh...” They groan in unison, visibly disappointed.

“We have a better mission,” you declare, crossing your arms. “Change into something decent. We’re heading back to Lincoln City.”

Finally, you’ve arrived in the city. It’s strange seeing them without their usual uniforms and masks. Dressed in casual clothes, they look more like model college boys than the deadly assassins they actually are. Most of the girls passing by can’t help but glance their way, clearly debating whether they should approach the handsome twin brothers.

You snort to yourself. Probably they would’ve attracted less attention in their usual assassin gear.

You’re standing in the middle of the bustling shopping district, the holiday decorations casting a festive glow around you. Luke and Kieran are busy taking in the sights, clearly amused by the sudden change of scenery. You clear your throat to get their attention.

“Alright, listen up,” you say, trying to sound authoritative. “The mission is...” They lean in, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Shopping” you declare.

“Shopping?” they repeat in unison, voices filled with disbelief.

Luke looks like he’s trying not to laugh, while Kieran’s expression twists into mock horror.

“Wait, wait,” Kieran says, holding up a hand. “You dragged us all the way out here... for shopping?”

“Yes, and you’re going to help me,” you reply.

Luke smirks, giving you a playful nudge. “You sure this isn’t just an excuse to spend time with us, Miss?”

You shoot him a glare. “Call me by my name, Luke.”

“Right, right,” he says, grinning.

“I actually need your help for...” you trail off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. You look away, rubbing the back of your neck. “Christmas is around the corner, and I wanted to buy Sylus something. I’m not sure what it should be, so...” 

Before you can finish, Luke and Kieran burst into giggle. They exchange a quick, knowing glance, clearly delighted by your admission.

“Oh, so you want to buy our boss a present, huh? That’s pretty cute” Luke teases, smirking.

Kieran nudges him with his elbow, grinning from ear to ear. “And you’re asking us for help? Luke, maybe she does have a soft spot for boss after all.”

You feel your cheeks flush, but you roll your eyes to cover it. “Are you two going to help me or not?”

Luke straightens up, placing a hand on his chest with a mock-serious expression. “If you’re serious about buying a gift for the boss, then you’ve definitely come to the right place. We don’t call ourselves his right-hand men for nothing.”

You exhale, feeling a bit relieved now that they seem genuinely eager to help. “I want something special. Something he wouldn’t expect, but that he’d actually like.”

Kieran tilts his head, pretending to think deeply. “Something unexpected, huh? Well, that’s tricky. Sylus pretty much has everything.”

“Yeah, exactly,” you say, feeling a bit helpless. “I was thinking about getting him some records, but he already has so many...”

Luke and Kieran nod in agreement, their expressions thoughtful. 

“It’s a good start. He does love his music. But you don’t want to give him something he already has, right?” Luke asked. 

“How about something more personal?” Kieran suggests, tapping his chin. “Something that shows you put a lot of thought into it. A gift only you could give him.”

You bite your lip, considering it. “Personal... but how?”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be anything fancy,” Luke says, shrugging. “The boss isn’t as complicated as he looks. He’d appreciate anything that comes from you.”

Kieran gives a playful smirk. “You could just wrap yourself up with a bow, and he’d be over the moon.”

“Kieran!” you gasp, your cheeks turning red as you lightly smack his arm. He laughs, dodging away with a wink. 

Luke chuckles but gives you a more genuine smile. “He’s joking—mostly. But seriously, boss isn’t the kind of guy who cares about expensive gifts. He’d value something that reminds him of you, or a shared memory.”

You pause, mulling it over.

Kieran nudges Luke, a sudden spark lighting up his eyes. “Hey, what about that old record shop on the Avenue? They’ve got vintage records you can’t find anywhere else. You could look for a rare one, maybe something with a story behind it.”

Luke nods, his eyes brightening as well. “Yeah, and you could pair it with a handwritten note. Tell him why you picked it. He’d love that.”

You smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. “That’s... actually a great idea. Thanks, you two.”

Kieran gives you a thumbs-up. “No problem, but you owe us for this.”

Luke grins. “Yeah, and don’t forget to give us the credit when he’s showering you with kisses later.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Fine, fine. Now let’s go before I change my mind.”

The twins laugh, and the three of you set off down the busy shopping street, feeling a new wave of excitement. Maybe this gift hunt wasn’t going to be so impossible after all.

In the end, you managed to buy everything for your friends—even for Captain Jenna, who isn’t exactly easy to shop for. But as you wandered through the record store, flipping through album after album, nothing stood out. Everything felt generic, impersonal. And you know Sylus well enough to realize that giving him something half-hearted would just fuel his endless teasing for weeks. 

By the end of the day, the twins delivered you at home after treating them for dinner. You're tired and leave all your bags in the living room of your apartment. You throw yourself down on the couch and take out your phone. Maybe you were overthinking this. A nice accessory or a bottle of whiskey could work—he has a taste for the finer things, after all. It wouldn’t be anything cheap, either; you can afford something like that with your Hunter salary.

The day passes, only 2 days for Christmas and you still have nothing. 

Desperate for ideas, you even tried bringing it up with Tera over lunch. That turned into a chaotic disaster, though. It was exhausting dodging her barrage of questions:

“Who’s the gift for? Why are you even so worried? Wait, do you have a new boyfriend? I demand to meet him!”

You had to laugh it off, making up half-baked excuses until she finally dropped it—though you could tell she didn’t believe you.

And then there was Sylus himself. Yesterday, he sent you an invitation to a Christmas dinner. You wanted to say yes, but you had already committed to the Hunters’ Association Christmas party that same night. You tried to decline, but after some back-and-forth, you reluctantly agreed to meet him afterward.

Now, sitting alone on the couch, you can’t help but replay that conversation in your mind. The way his voice softened when you said you couldn’t make it, the slight pause before he insisted on seeing you later anyway—it made your chest tighten. He sounded almost... disappointed. And that’s what makes you want to find something truly meaningful, something that will show him how much he means to you without you having to say it out loud.

You look at your reflection in the darkened screen of your phone, feeling a mix of frustration and anticipation. You’re running out of time. If you’re going to surprise him with something from the heart, you need to figure it out now.

With a new sense of determination, you push yourself off the couch and grab your coat. Maybe you won’t find the perfect gift sitting around here. It’s time to get back out there and keep looking, because if there’s one person you want to make smile this Christmas, it’s Sylus. But be honest, you´re not going to admit that. Not yet. 

...

It’s Christmas! The party with your unit is small but cozy. The space is filled with the warm glow of twinkling lights, the scent of spiced wine, and the sound of laughter echoing off the walls. You drink, you eat, and you feel a rare sense of contentment as you watch everyone enjoying the night. It’s moments like these that remind you why you love this chaotic, ragtag team.

The gifts you bought last minute seem to have gone over well. Captain Jenna grinned when she unwrapped the sleek new knife you picked out for her—a practical gift, just like she’d like it. Xavier looked genuinely pleased with the soft, oversized sweater you chose, already pulling it on and joking about how he wouldn’t fall asleep everywhere now. Tera hugged you tight, eyes sparkling as she held up the spa voucher. “You really do know me,” she said with a teasing smile.

Earlier in the morning, you made a quick stop by the hospital to drop off the bag of special winter-edition macarons for Zayne. And you place the flower on the graveyard. Pray for them and wishing that you could spent one more day with them.

You glance at your watch. It’s getting late, and you promised Sylus you’d meet him after this. You take a deep breath, excusing yourself quietly from the party. Tera shoots you a knowing look as you head for the door, but she doesn’t say anything—just gives you a little wave, as if to say, good luck. 

You pull your coat tighter around yourself, clutching the gift in your hand as you start walking. There’s a mixture of excitement and fear bubbling up inside you.

Suddenly your watch vibrates urgently and flashes a warning: MetaFlux Fluctuation Detected. Your heart skips a beat. A Wanderer? Now?! You glance around, scanning the quiet street for any signs of danger. The distant sound of a woman’s scream breaks the silence, and without hesitation, you sprint in the direction of the noise, already reaching for your weapon. 

The first Wanderer lunges out from the shadows, its distorted form shifting and writhing in the dim light. You don’t waste a second. One precise shot, and it disintegrates into a cloud of shimmering dust.

„My child! Where is he?“ the woman cries out, panic in her voice. You look around fast, this is not over. 

„Mom!! Help!“ You hear the voice of the kid nearby and run over. You bolt towards the sound, pushing your legs harder. You reach the boy just in time, shielding him with your body as another Wanderer lunges forward. The creature’s claws slice through the air, narrowly missing you. You fire three quick shots, each one hitting its mark. The Wanderer lets out a guttural screech before it vanishes into thin air, dissolving into the night.

"Are you okay?“ you ask, your voice softer now, concerned. The boy nodded. His mother rushes over, wrapping her arms around him and thanking you over and over, her voice thick with emotion.

The mother and child thank you from the bottom of their hearts before leaving. You tell them to please stop by the hospital, just in case. You wave goodbye to the boy. Sigh. What a night!

"Where's my bag?" you mutter, scanning the area. You spot it lying on the ground, right where you dropped it before sprinting into action. Relief floods through you—until you notice the dark, wet stain spreading across the fabric. 

"No, no, no! Please no," you whisper, crouching down and unzipping the bag with trembling hands. The bottle of whiskey you were hunting down the last two days. Is shattered in thousand pieces.

Your heart sinks. This wasn’t just any whiskey—it was a rare, vintage bottle from a small distillery he’d mentioned once, in passing, when he thought you weren’t listening.

„Fuck!" 

You stand up, clutching the soaked bag, and check the time on your watch.

22:30.

You’re supposed to meet Sylus in half an hour, and you’re still a good fifteen minutes away from his place. Panic bubbles up inside you. Maybe you can find a late-night shop that carries something similar. Maybe there’s still a chance to fix this.

"I can make it," you say aloud, more to convince yourself than anything.

…

You finally arrive at the meeting point—a lookout near the water. It’s the same place where you spent last winter with him, watching the fireworks together.

“Kitten, you told me you were at a party, not a battlefield. What happened?”

“Eh?”

You’ve been running around for the last 30 minutes trying to find that stupid bottle and make it on time to meet Sylus. A little embarrassed, you attempt to fix your clothes and smooth your hair. Your cheeks are flushed from the effort. Sylus stands there in his black coat, looking amazing as always. Your heart beats hard in your chest. He watches you, trying to piece together what happened, and then a smile tugs at his lips.

“Even on days like this, you don’t get a break, Miss Hunter?” He runs his hand gently across your face. You flinch slightly, wincing in pain. “You’ve got a small cut. So... are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Nothing, just a Wanderer. It will heal,” you say with a shrug. He sighs softly.

“Careless as usual.” He pulls a small band-aid from his pocket. “Stay still.”

“Why do you have something like that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It so happens that I have a kitten who never pays attention to their injuries,” he teases.

You make an exaggerated offended grimace, but inside, it feels like a small gesture of affection. He places the band-aid gently over the cut.

“I’ll consider this your Christmas gift,” you joke.

He laughs. “Oh no, sweetie, that wouldn’t be enough. But I’m impressed with your minimalist idea of happiness.” He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an envelope.

“You didn’t have...”

“Open it up. And thank me later.”

You take the envelope cautiously, slowly peeling it open. Could it explode? You shake your head at the silly thought. When you finally look inside, your eyes widen, and you let out a soft squeal of excitement.

“Are you for real? This tickets has been sold out for months. How did you…?”

“I have my ways, sweetie,” he replies with a smug smile.

“Thank you,” you whisper, genuinely touched.

“It’s always a pleasure making you happy.”

But your excitement fades quickly as the realization sinks in. He’s managed to make you immensely happy again, while you stand here empty-handed. You have been looking for the perfect gift and you have screwed up at the last minute. On top, you haven't found a replacement for the bottle. 

"I wanted to give you something too for Christmas...“ you started. Closing the envelope and putting it in your pocket. "but... it broke while I was protecting a kid from a Wanderer.“ You look down at your feet, feeling small and pathetic, your shoulders slumping under the weight of disappointment.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Sylus gently lifts your chin with a finger, guiding your gaze back to him. He smiles, that soft, understanding smile that always makes you feel seen. Without a word, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a warm embrace. The chill of winter seems to disappear in his hold, replaced by the comforting heat of his body.

“The best gift is having you by my side, kitten.” he whispers into your ear, his voice low and sincere.

You feel your heart beating faster.

"Actions speak louder than words"

You agree with Sylus that both would be more honest with each other. Maybe now is the time to show him just how important he is to you. You spent so much time looking for something to buy that you forgot that the simplest gifts are often the most meaningful, especially when they come straight from the heart.

"Sylus… I actually have something else."

"Oh, is that so?“ 

„Can... I borrow your face?" He loosens his grip slightly and steps back, taking your hands in his, warming them up. He looks at you, amused and curious, and leans down.

"Close your eyes..." you whisper. He doesn’t say anything but does as you ask, his smile softening as he relaxes his face. You take a deep breath, feeling your heart race, each beat echoing louder in your chest.

The world falls silent for a moment—it's just the two of you, suspended in time. The anticipation tingles through you as you lean closer, closing the distance between you.

You press your lips gently against his cheek, and the warmth of his skin against your lips is electric. It’s a simple kiss, but it carries all the unspoken words you couldn’t say out loud. A silent confession. You linger there for just a heartbeat longer, feeling him inhale sharply, as if caught off guard by the intimacy of it. As you pull back, the first snowflakes begin to fall, drifting slowly from the sky. The soft touch of snow melts against your skin, but Sylus holds you close, not letting the moment slip away.

„Now... that’s a present only you could have given me." He gives you the most tender smile. "Thank you."

He looks like he wants to say something else but remains silent. Instead, he pulls you into a deeper embrace, burying his face in your hair as the snow continues to fall softly around you. You’re more than fine with that. No, you’re happy—grateful for this sweet moment.

You realize you’re a step closer to falling for him completely, accepting that the connection between you two is stronger than you ever imagined.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling with genuine joy.

“Merry Christmas, kitten.”

[artytaeh]

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

can i disagree with some of this fandom's perception of tom riddle? surely he won't be a sweetheart like lorenzo, but...

┊ i also don't think that he'd be so intentionally rude, so cold towards his significant other. i honestly think that if tom ever becomes infatuated with someone, he would take pride into getting this someone to belong to him. willingly! 🌷

౨ৎ i guess i'll never know the reason why you ♡ ͡

love me like you do; that's the wonder of you . . .

... tom riddle is a smart man, you see. love, romantic feelings, to act like a couple and all of those things— these might be the most confused that tom riddle will ever be, because otherwise, he's an extremely competent, capable young man.

tom riddle does get confused, a little lost on what to do; he'd torture himself by discreetly watching couples at hogwarts interacting, maybe make some research (= read novels. romantic novels. it was a discovery of a new medieval torture for tom, seriously, to waste his precious time reading some sappy crap like that.) to better understand how to handle you.

how to deal with you.

how to cherish you, so that you don't ever entertain the idea of leaving him. you see, tom is a practical man— he'd rather not commit mistakes, because to fail, means to spend extra time fixing his error and doing the same thing twice, so that this time, it's done correctly.

applying this ideology to you, it means: that 1) tom riddle prefers to always keep your heart happy, so that you don't have doubts about him; so that 2) he won't have to take twice the effort to conquer the city of your heart again.

some think that tom wouldn't like petnames. to be fair, tom would frown at many of those, at first— thinking that they were cringe, disgusting or a psychological way to acquire diabetes. however, when tom gets used to this stir on his heart, those loud heart beatings that cloud his rational thoughts...

... it's excused to say that tom's preferred petname to call you by, is 'my love'.

tom reasons that's because it isn't a lie at all. well, you're certainly his— and because of you, because of your existence, of this enchanting aura of yours; that's how tom riddle discovered love. there are few things that tom is attached to. even fewer that he shows to care about, to have affectionate feelings for; one of them is the basilisk. others are his favorite books, all of them first editions that were troublesome, but endlessly worth it, to get. nevertheless, at the peak of the pyramid, there's you.

you. oh, how your name sounds so angelic, so right, so perfect on his lips. sometimes, tom doesn't call you by any petnames, so that he can mouth each syllable of your name, tasting the acquaintance of the name of his darling on his lips.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

he might call you by other petnames, depending on the occasions:

darling; which, in his opinion, is fairly one of the best petnames to be shared between a couple. because you, reader, are endearing to his eyes— a darling, really, whose presence immediately softens (ever so slightly, because tom riddle still is tom riddle himself, and that mask of stoicism of his won't be broken without putting up a fight.) those previously icy, cold eyes of his.

dearest; if tom is trying to reason with you. unlike what many think, tom would take a deep breath, put on that handsome smile of his, and use a gentle tone to convince some words inside that pretty little head of yours. 'dearest', he calls for you— so gentle, so full of affection; as if reminding you that you are the object of all of his affections and desires. you, his dearest, the one he adores the most. the reminder of such a fact easily melts you in less than a few seconds, which tom sees as too perfect of an opportunity to lose to convince you much faster.

doll; if you look rather ravishing to his eyes, whenever you dress up even prettier than other school days, and wear such pretty clothes and many accessories to further optimize your beauty. beautiful, perfect, flawless; like a doll. a carefully made doll. a doll, that sits there quiet and all pretty, obedient, doing as she's told.

( i must warn you, though, that tom won't entertain silly nicknames from you. tom riddle will ignore you, march forward without sparing a glance at you, not even acknowledging your presence should you insist on the matter. tom won't answer you, should you refer to him by such hideous petnames. you could be about to fall from a mountain, and yet tom won't help you until you address him properly. baby? he's not a child, for salazar's sake! pookie bear? now that might make tom riddle himself throw you off from the mountain's edge— call him such a monstrosity like that, and tom will lose every drop of faith on you. you're a lost cause. )

if he had to choose; yes, tom would prefer if you were obedient. contrary to popular belief, tom riddle is quite fascinated with sweet personas. to have a sweet significant other, who's all smiles and considerate words— it's so, so much easier for tom.

between a brat that trashes around for his attention, and a sweet girl who gently tries to indulge (purely out of concern, wanting him to share his problems with her!)— tom would rather choose the latter.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

quite the darling you are. to boldly take tom's hands between your own, with that frown of yours. no, you're not being whiny; yet tom can see that there's consideration, there's time spent on that little brain of yours, that tries to find the right words to speak with him.

then, when you voice your concerns— that tom spends some time alone from time to time, seemingly hiding something from you, as if to shoulder all of those burdens all by himself...

tom takes a deep breath, swallowing his temper. trying to keep his composure, because tom hates having to justify his actions. with a smile, tom puts on a facade, with a too much convincing tone: "oh, dearest, no. i'm flattered that you noticed that i haven't been having the best days; however, your presence makes everything better. in fact, being with you now, makes all of my problems seem insignificant in comparison."

should his sweet words not be enough to keep your nose out of his business, then tom takes a step further. holding your hands, tom squeezes them between his fingers, gently at first, tightly when you're too stubborn: "my problems are mine to solve, my love. i would never put such a heavy burden on you; your smile is too precious for me to ruin."

sweet, sweet words; some that tom mentally grimaces at, but knows that are necessary and effective with you. talking as if he's doing you a favor on keeping you away from his PERSONAL thoughts and goals.

and that's how tom pushes you way. gently, smoothly— so that you'd have to rethink this moment over and over, for you to understand that once again, tom riddle has tricked you; tricked you into doing what he wants. because without a fight, without you daring to bother him further... tom riddle made you go back to your own business, and leave his alone.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

however, when tom is in a better mood and less stressed with his own goals, he'd find it funny, entertaining even, if his darling tried to be bossy. to pout, to want some sort of control. it's hilarious for him.

so, he indulges you. well, sort of— tom tricks you into thinking that he gave in to your commands. to your whims. in a sneaky way, tom makes you think that you're in control!

the one who's in charge is you. yes, darling, of course. he pats your head, gives you that charming smile of his. with such a serene expression, tom briefly raises his eyebrows, mocking you inside that devious mind of his, as he says: you are absolutely right, dearest.

tom riddle doesn't really mind that you aren't consciously aware that the one in charge is him. that's fine; no, seriously, go and brag about it!

because ultimately, tom knows that what he says, goes. that with some sweet words of his, a little touch here and there, that you'll soon see the reason and comply to whatever tom wishes you to say, to do, to behave.

he does is so smoothly, that even for the outsiders, well... it'd be hard to realize that all that tom riddle is doing to you, is nothing but manipulation. and you're oh so easy to manipulate— it was a challenge at first. now, it's more of a chore; tom barely blinks through it. he knows you so well.

however, so that you whining and getting used to think that you're having things done your way, tom throws some praises and compliments here and there.

touching you chin, gently brushing his thumb on your lower lip; tom's gaze intentionally softens, as he praises: 'you're just too good to be true, my love.', whenever you act accordingly. when you do as he says.

brushing a strand of yours away from your face, so that he can further admire the physical features of his beloved: 'i sincerely can't take my eyes of you, darling, when you are so good for me like this. pardon the way that i stare— you're too beautiful.'

and with even more sincerity, tom riddle isn't sure where his manipulation ends and his genuine care for you starts; tom isn't sure, whether his words are now a muscle memory of his, or if he truly means them.

but he never allows himself to discover the roots of this thought. to actually find out if he truly is such an emotionally shallow person, or if his weakness for his darling is deeper than he realizes. no— this is one of the few matters, in which tom would rather remain ignorant about.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

because tom is such a gentleman with you...

opening doors for you. walking two, three steps ahead of you as soon as the entrance is upon sight, tom will open the door for you; his arm keeps it open for you to enter or leave the room first, and so those grayish-green eyes of his watch you, as you pass by. then, tom will enter just behind you, following your lead, quickening his steps to go back to his rightful place by your side. he lies to himself, saying that he only does such a small gesture to effortlessly keep you by his side. tom would be telling the truth, if he doesn't interrupt the thought that he enjoys to escort you— because, deep down, tom genuinely appreciates your company. every step, every minute you spend together. 'here, love. please, continue; what did you tell your housemate, then?'

tom riddle refuses to let you carry heavy books. so, as if it was muscle memory and so smoothly that you can't do anything about it, tom will carry your books along with his, as soon as you leave the classroom. it's not that he finds you useless, incapable; rather, tom riddle perceives you as a... preciously delicate, fragile little thing. most of the times, tom does it so nonchalantly that you don't even notice; you're too distracted by your conversation, to notice how tom carries your stuff, busying his arms. however, should you notice or worry that you're being a burden to tom in any way; tom shakes his head at you, waving off this silly insecurity of yours: 'i know you can carry them, beloved. however, allow me to do it for you. i am your boyfriend, am i not?'

offering his hand for you to take, whenever there's a higher step to be climbed up, or tricky stairs on your way. tom will do it too, to give you some kind of support, should you jump off of a particular high edge. whenever you wear high heels, tom would be specially careful with you— he offers his arm or hand for you to take, walking in a much slower pace than usual, so that you won't overexert your feet. we can't have his darling getting hurt, now can we? no bruises, no pain, no redness on your skin undesired by him, nothing to interrupt the lovely time you're spending together. 'take my hand, my love; it's quite high for you. that's it, darling, good girl.'

whenever you're about to sit, tom grabs the back of your chair, pushing the seat backwards for you to take, then helps you settle closer to the table. only then, will tom take his own seat in front of you. it's something that becomes so, so common between both of you, that sometimes you find yourself taking a few more seconds to sit down, whenever you hang out with your friends; unconsciously, you'd wait for tom to gently guide you to your seat. oh, you're spoiled.

leaning down to get the material you accidentally knocked out; if he's not quick enough to notice, then tom will keep his hand on the edge of the table, so that there's no chance for you to hit your head. 'quite the klutz, aren't you, darling?' — with a lighthearted tone, so that he doesn't come by as mean, tom couldn't help but to tease you just this time, — 'next time, let me get it for you, dearest. now, careful with your head.'

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

... and because he's always so soft-spoken with you, well, how could you listen to your friends, in case they notice that maybe tom riddle isn't as a good guy as he lets on? that perhaps, he is a little controlling. that maybe, he's too overprotective of you.

→ and of course, being the fool you are, you stroll to the lion's cage (or should we call it snake?) and deliver all of this information on a silver platter for him.

SAT SIDEWAYS ON HIS LAP, tom settles your thighs to rest on top of his, while a hand is respectfully kept there; caressing the smooth skin, rubbing circles on the bare skin of your thigh, just inches underneath the hem of your skirt.

tom riddle keeps up a serene expression, sometimes humming in acknowledgement, to show you that he's listening to this ramble of yours. if it's a topic that seems to have bothered or upsets you, then tom will keep another hand on your lower back; he soothes you with small movements of his fingers.

oh, how funny. so this ravenclaw friend of yours, told you that it isn't normal for tom, your boyfriend, to comment whether you roll up your skirt during summer? that such a thing is being controlling? now that's something tom will have to deal with. perhaps, he'll only have to frame this irritating ravenclaw girl; have you ever thought that maybe, she's interested in tom? that must be why the ravenclaw is filling your pretty little brain with such absurd exaggerations of his doings. how lucky you are, to have an attentive boyfriend that easily notices when a friend of yours has bad intentions.

( for obvious reasons, tom despises amortentia. he finds it disgusting, but more than that, tom riddle perceives amortentia has a rather pathetic tool to get someone's affection. tom will never use it on you— he doesn't need to! however, he will get his hands on one, to use it on that nosy, insufferable ravenclaw friend of yours. only to prove his point. so that this nosy girl acts disgustingly flirty around tom, so that you'll come running back into his arms, crying about such an awful friend and that once again, tom was right. you apologize to him, for doubting his assumptions. you end this friendship and cut ties with the ravenclaw girl. and tom, well, tom riddle has once again rid both of you from troublesome outsiders. )

ah, now this is entertaining! so these friends of yours, housemates, have noticed that tom has been keeping an eye on you. now, dearest, that's rather silly, don't you think? so what if you seem to find the same familiar faces in the same space as you? do you really believe your friends' theories? that he sends his followers ''friends'' to follow you around the school? darling, hogwarts is quite enormous and spacious, yet all of you study together in the same castle. it's inevitable, to see familiar faces, here and there.

( however, tom will blame his followers. how difficult can it be, to follow, to stalk a girl like you? and to go unnoticed as they do that? sincerely, tom stares at them with such disgust, such disappointment, that his followers tremble under his gaze— the future dark lord even mentions the idea of getting rid of them. of throwing them away. after all, why would he need such useless, such incompetent boys like them, if they can't follow simple orders correctly? it's excused to say, that you'd never suspect being stalked again. 1) because tom reassured you that such a thought is rather silly; and 2), because these followers of tom riddle do a much better job. out of fear. )

oh, darling, what silly friends you have! sincerely, it seems like you only attract observant delusional friends, or attentive paranoid companies!

in the end, it doesn't matter if your friends tried to alert you about tom's toxic concerning flaws traits. because in the end, at night, he will have you nuzzling on his lap, holding you so tenderly; all of these warnings disappear into thin air, when tom makes you laugh at such accurate ridiculous accusations.

in conclusion: no, tom riddle would never be rude or snap at you; not if he can help it, not if he can keep his temper in check. he believes that the best way to keep you so effortlessly devoted and infatuated, to keep you willingly by his side, is to treat you with care (even if sometimes he has to manipulate his way into it). how lucky you are, to have such a obsessive caring boyfriend!

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i'm endlessly faithful to theodore nott. however. the first to kick the entrance door to my heart was tom riddle. and what a man (i can't fix him. i would let him ruin my life him tho!), ladies and gentlemen.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 25

a/n: ahhhh we're back, baby! i am so excited to get the final completed chapters out to you all. thank you to @bahablastplz for editing!

[ read chapter 24 here ]

Chapter Twenty-Five: Of Popcorn and Reuniting

I need some time.

Can we talk on Monday?

You type out and delete several variations of your text to Chan before finally hitting send on the ride home. You considered acquiescing to his request, but you know how it would end; with you in his arms, then bent over as he fucks all his love into you. You want to kiss him, touch him, to feel him inside of you after what he so succinctly confessed with that rose and card. He wants you. He would choose you.

You want to roll down the windows and scream into the night at the top of your lungs. You contain yourself, though. You suppress the giddy feeling each time it arises, keeping it at bay with reasonable logic: you cannot let him choose you.

It pains you to even think that. Especially when you can see how much he is trying…the effort he’s putting forth is not lost on you. You know how out of his comfort zone he must be, and it feels utterly shitty to shut down his attempts and potentially lose all the progress you’ve made with him.

Of course it moves you, knowing he would throw aside everything for you, but now is when you need to be stronger than him. You have to give yourself time to prepare for this conversation—you know it won’t be easy. Waiting to speak to him on Monday will give you that time. It’s always easier to process your thoughts when you’re not in his intoxicating presence. And anyways, if his feelings are as strong as he’s saying, a few days of waiting shouldn’t deter them.

Over the next few days, you spend most of your spare time sorting through your thoughts and feelings surrounding the Chan debacle, and whenever it feels too overwhelming you can turn to Changbin for a distraction. He’s good for that. However, you’ve learned enough about Aristotle and his belief in moral virtues to last a lifetime. You spend the final Saturday of the rotation with him, staying up and talking about whatever crosses either of your minds.

He jokingly suggests taking things further since this is your last chance. In truth, after the consistent sex you were getting with Hyunjin and Chan, your body is aching for it, but you politely turn him down. You know it’s not aching for him in particular.

On Sunday the house is once again abuzz as everyone shuffles their belongings back to their proper rooms. Chan is, to your surprise, still fast asleep around noon when you take your sheets and clothes back to his room. You quietly make your bed and put your clothes aways before retrieving your stuff from Seungmin’s room and taking it to Hyunjin’s.

Hyunjin is seated at his desk with his headphones on, scribbling away on his sketchpad when you enter. Your hands are full of your blankets and a bag of your clothes is slung over your shoulder. His wide, dazzling smile greets you when the door swings open and you feel like an invisible weight is instantly lifted.

“Welcome back,” he says, standing to help you with all that you’re carrying.

He takes the blankets from you and tosses them onto your bed. You take the bag off your shoulder and set it on the ground as he turns back around to face you. He opens his arms to you and you take a few small steps forward into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his slender waist, squeezing tightly.

“Jagiya,” he whispers against the top of your head.

“I missed this,” you tell him.

As safe as you felt with Changbin and Seungmin, it doesn’t hold a flame to what you feel with Hyunjin. In the near-constant emotional storm you have felt during your time at the SKZ house, he has always been your saving grace. The only thing that keeps you grounded in the chaos.

You feel somewhat bad about it, though—he’s always the shoulder that you lean and cry on, and none of it has ever been because of his actions. It’s always something else. Always Chan. You could release the floodgates and cry right now, hugged up to him, but you don’t want to do that. It’s not fair to him, always having to pick up the pieces.

“Me too,” he agrees.

When you finally step away from the embrace, you motion to the work on his desk.

“Don’t let me distract you.”

He looks down at you and cups your face in his hands. He looks over your face and you wish you didn’t feel so transparent in front of him. He knows. How could he not? You scrunch up your face and shake your head, pushing the tears and sad thoughts aside. Not today. Not on your first day back with him.

He arches an eyebrow in response, but you continue shaking your head defiantly.

“Fine.” he says.

He squeezes your cheeks together, forcing your lips into a fish shape, and kisses them. You can’t help but laugh and swat him away, making him laugh too as he holds his arms up to block your attack.

Maybe it’s not right to push everything down and pretend you’re okay—that nothing has happened to send you into a tailspin. But with Hyunjin…it doesn’t feel like pretending. He genuinely makes you forget that any strife in the world exists when you’re with him.

“Can we get out of the house later?”

“Sure. What do you want to do?” he asks, sitting back at his desk as you start to put the sheets on your bed.

“Anything, really,” you shrug.

He gives you a reassuring nod and smile before turning back to his sketchbook. He starts to put his headphones back on, then stops. He picks up the Bluetooth speaker on his desk and powers it on. Within seconds, ‘Ghost’ by Mystery Skulls starts blaring throughout the room as you get your things situated and he focuses back on his drawing.

You catch yourself dancing around to the song as you tidy up. When you lock eyes with him, he’s vibing to it as well and you both smile and giggle.

It’s distractingly loud and peaceful in here with him.

Later in the afternoon, the cloudy sky and light drizzle makes it difficult for you and Hyunjin to choose something to do. You both eventually settle on going to see a movie, but it takes another thirty minutes after that to decide what to watch. Hyunjin picks a film called Miller’s Girl, and buys the tickets from his phone. You grab a warm blanket then you both head out.

The theatre is one of the upgraded kinds with large, reclining seats. You get popcorn and drinks before going into the designated room. It’s just the two of you, but you assume others will show up at some point. However, when the previews finish and the movie starts, no one else has come.

“Got the whole place to ourselves,” you remark.

“Come here, then,” he says, taking the popcorn from you and reaching for your hand.

You let him pull you up and over the large armrest separating your seats, bringing your blanket with you. He holds the popcorn out of the way as you get comfortable and spread the blanket out, so it covers both of you. He drapes an arm around your shoulder, holding you against him.

Since you’re alone, you’re both free to talk without fear of annoying anyone. The film is quite interesting—very poetic, which Hyunjin seems to take a liking to. Eventually, your mind starts to stray from the plot, focusing more on how close you are to him…and how long it’s been since you touched him. You slide your left hand under the blanket and onto his thigh. You can see him looking at you from the corner of your eye. You bite your bottom lip to keep from smiling and remain facing the screen.

He moves the popcorn from his lap and puts it on the empty seat next to him.

“Do you remember what happened last time we went out to watch a movie?”  you ask playfully as your hand glides over his cock, above his jeans.

“I have a faint memory,” he replies.

“Just a faint one?” you turn to face him.

He leans forward and captures your lips in one fell swoop. You kiss him back, relishing the familiar feeling of his soft, plump lips against yours. The taste is a little salty and buttery, but good. You feel his cock twitch against your hand and take that as an invitation to unbutton his pants and slide down the zipper.

He breaks the kiss and reclines the chair a little more, allowing you better access to him. You bring your hand up to your mouth and spit in it before slipping it back beneath the blanket to wrap around his cock. It pulses in your tight grip as you start to stroke him slowly.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Let me touch you, too.”

“No,” you shake your head, stroking him faster.

“But I want to feel you.”

“You will later.”

You hear him smack his lips as he rests his head against the chair. He rocks his hips upwards while you continue stroking him. You’re tempted to toss the blanket aside so you can see him, take him in your mouth and then fuck him. You’ll be patient, though. You just want to please him right now.

“Y/n,” he whispers. “I can’t—where am I gonna—?”

You feel his stomach muscles start to convulse as he attempts to hold off his release. You hadn’t thought that part through, and you don’t have much time to come up with a plan. You lift the blanket and duck your head beneath it, quickly taking him in your mouth.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he pants.

You move your hand and mouth in tandem along his cock as he starts to come. You feel his hand grip the back of your neck trying to keep you still, but you keep moving, taking in every last drop.

When he stops shaking you swallow and lift your head from the blanket. With his hand still on your neck he brings you to him again, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on you.

You break the kiss this time, smiling at him as you pull away. He throws himself back against the chair, breathing heavily.

“What are we even watching?” he jokes.

You zip and button his pants back up before snuggling into his side again.

When the movie is over, he practically pulls you out of the theatre, through the lobby and to the exit doors. You can see through the glass doors right away—the light drizzle has turned into an all-out downpour. You plant your feet to stop him from pulling you outside.

“We’re gonna get drenched, Hyunjin,” you tell him, shaking your head.

He turns to face you, eyebrow arched, “You don’t like getting wet anymore? What did Seungmin and Changbin do to you?”

You slap him on the arm and roll your eyes.

“Come on, we can’t stay in here forever,” he coaxes.

“Okay, okay,” you agree with a sigh.

He pushes on the door and looks back at you once more. You nod for him to continue. He opens the door completely and you both make a mad dash for the car. When you’re halfway there, though, Hyunjin abruptly stops this time. You try to tug on his hand to get him to the car, but he doesn’t budge.

“Hyunjin, move your feet!”

He shakes his head and uses your intertwined hands to bring you to him. He rests his hands on your hips as he leans down to kiss you. The rain is coming down over both of you. Your hair, clothes, everything is completely drenched and it’s not even warm rain, it’s fucking freezing. But none of those concerns are the most pressing thing on your mind right now. While kissing him and getting cleansed by the rain, it feels like time is standing still. You’re so enraptured in this moment with him, that all else fades away.

In celebration of rotations ending, the grill is fired up in the backyard that night. It’s still a bit cold out and damp, but nothing like it was on New Year’s. You and the other girls work on side dishes in the kitchen while the boys cook up the meat. Through the back door you can see Chan manning the grill while the others mostly just sit around and watch—Lee Know helps occasionally.

“Anyone else happy things are going back to normal?” Charlotte asks.

All of you nod your heads.

“As great as Jeongin and Han are, I kind of missed Seungmin and Changbin,” Rhiannon admits.

“You’re one of our bravest soldiers, dealing with those two,” you tell her with a laugh.

“They really are a handful, aren’t they?”

“Their intentions are good, at least,” you tell her to which she nods her agreement.

“Y/n, can you bring the steak out here? And grab a plate to bring some of this other meat in.”

You’re surprised to see Chan’s head peeking through the partially opened sliding back door. A familiar erratic heartbeat returns.

“He wants you to grab his meat—he must have really missed you,” Allie teases.

The other girls laugh with her. They know nothing of the tension you’re feeling right now. You force a small smile and attempt a chuckle, but it sounds strained. You step past Charlotte at the stove and retrieve the meat from the fridge, then head to the backyard. You hand Chan the empty Pyrex dish first and he starts piling the cooked meat onto it.

“You okay?” he asks gently.

You nod.

“So, you’re not staying with me tonight, then?”

You shake your head in response to his question.

He sets the plate of cooked meat next to the grill, as you hold the tray of steak. You expected him to take the tray, but instead he takes each piece of meat off individually as you hold it.

“Did you lose your voice while you were away?”

“No,” you reply softly.

He takes the last piece of steak from the tray, but his eyes are on you the entire time. When you finally meet his gaze, you see a glimmer of something there…worry perhaps, as he watches you. It’s not your intention to be cold towards him right now, you’re just caught off guard by this interaction.

“We’ll talk more Monday,” you tell him. “I promise.”

“Do you miss me?” he asks, handing you the Pyrex dish of cooked meats.

“Of course I do.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips hearing that.

Since you and Hyunjin already showered, after coming home wet from the rain, you change into your pajamas and brush your teeth when dinner is over, then meet Hyunjin in his room. He’s already laying in bed, beneath the blanket without a shirt on. His eyes are focused on his phone when you enter, but he immediately tosses it to the side and smiles when he sees you.

“Finally,” he says, still grinning.

“Were you waiting for me?” You ask, feigning innocence.

You place your dirty clothes into your shared laundry basket before crawling onto his bed.

“Yeah. For two long weeks,” he tells you, pulling you to him as soon as you’re within reach.

“And what were you expecting to happen?”

You’re laying across his body at an angle, arms folded on top of his bare chest.

“Oh, you know…nothing in particular,” he says, his hand already slipping beneath your shirt to caress your back.

“Good. Because it’s shark week.”

He furrows his brow at that.

“It shouldn’t be until next week?”

You crack a smile—so he has kept track on the app you shared with him.

Seeing your reaction, he quickly flips over so that he’s on top of you.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He whispers into your ear before leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. “Knowing how much I’ve wanted you.”

“I thought it was a little funny,” you shrug.

“Not even a little bit,” he says, pushing your shirt up above your breasts.

As soon as your nipples are exposed, his mouth is on them. Taking in one, sucking and circling it with his tongue, then the other. He kisses between your breasts, then down your stomach, past your navel. When he makes it to your shorts, he doesn’t even bother pulling them down. He yanks them to the side, peeking up at you when he realizes you’re not wearing any underwear.

“Just as pretty as I remember,” he says, returning his attention to your pussy and kissing around your folds.

You want to lean back on the pillows for comfort and close your eyes to enjoy the feeling, but you also want to keep watching him. You’ve missed the sight of him between your legs.

He sticks his tongue out and delivers a hard and slow lick up your slit before blowing cool air over it. A shiver courses through you, and you thrust your hips up towards his mouth, but he moves away.

You assume there will be more teasing to follow, but he dives straight back in, covering your pussy with his mouth. He alternates swirling his tongue around your clit and fucking you with it. You finally throw your head back against the pillow and get lost in the sound of him sucking and slurping you up. You grip the sheets with your hands, still attempting to rock your hips against his face.

He pulls away to readjust himself so he can use his other hand on you. He slides his fingers through your slick to coat them before pushing them inside of you. His heated gaze meets yours as he fingers you and you smile up at him lazily, lustfully, and adoringly at all once.

You beckon him towards you with a curl of your finger and he obliges, leaning down over you with his fingers still pumping in and out. You spread your legs a little further apart to accommodate him on top of you and wrap your arms around his neck. You pull him down to you and taste yourself on him as his tongue invades your mouth.

He applies pressure to your clit with his thumb, causing you to moan.

“I need you to fuck me, Hyunjin,” you pant between kisses.

“Not yet,” he replies. “I want two from you tonight.”

He moves back, sitting on his legs. You can see the determination in his eyes as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. His other hand cups your breast, kneading it and pinching your nipple.

 “Can you do two for me, jagiya?”

You nod your head, unable to speak.

He readjusts himself again and you’ve never been so thankful for his long limbs and dexterity. He keeps one hand on your breast, the other is thrusting three fingers in and out of you, and then his mouth is on your clit again to bring you to the edge.

Your hands fly to his head, tangling themselves in his dark hair. You’re pulling on the strands while simultaneously pushing his face harder against your rocking hips.

“There she is,” he chuckles, his mouth rubbing against you as he speaks. “Come on my fingers.”

He latches back onto your clit, sucking it rhythmically. You grit your teeth and moan, arching your back as you come on his fingers.

The waves of your orgasm continue even as he withdraws his fingers and puts them in his mouth to lick clean. You watch him in a haze. Your legs are still shaking when he finally pulls your pajama shorts down. You’re trying to catch your breath as he removes his boxers, but there’s hardly any time before he’s thrusting his hard cock in your pussy.  

“Oh, fuck, Hyunjin,” you cry out.

“I want two,” he says again.

He hooks your legs on his shoulders and grips your thighs for leverage as he fucks you. He angles his hips, allowing his cock to touch your most sensitive spot with each thrust.

“You feel so good, jagi,” he coaxes. “So fucking tight. So wet.”

He’s bearing a mischievous smile as he looks down at you. He knows what he’s doing to you—with his body, with his words. He knows you won’t last long like this.

Hell, even just looking at the consistent flexing of his abdomen as he fucks you just about does you in.

“I want to be on top,” you tell him, placing your hands on his chest to halt his movements.

You let your legs fall from his shoulders and he rolls over so he’s laying down and you’re on top of him without needing to pull out. You plant your feet firmly on the bed and start to bounce up and down on his cock. He lets out a groan and brings his hands to your hips, gripping them.

His eyes move from your face to your bouncing tits, down to where your bodies are connected. Feeling like the object of his desire is a feeling you’ll never get tired of. You can see it on his face—he likes this. He likes fucking you, pleasing you.

And with him, it’s easy. There aren’t any buried emotions to deal with. You can just enjoy the way you make each other feel. These moments you share with him; you can truly understand what the purpose of the SKZ house is. It’s a system that can work when other feelings don’t get in the way. The type of feelings that have brought you and Chan to an impasse.

You don’t realize your thoughts have drifted so much until you feel Hyunjin’s hand cupping your face.

“On me,” he says simply.

You nod, focusing your attention back on him.  

How can he read you so easily? And be so unfazed, so understanding? You were blessed to have him as Chan’s counterpart in this. Truly.

You place your hands on his chest again, using his body to help you bounce up and down on his cock. His grip on your hips tightens and at first, he helps lift you up but then he pulls you all the way down and keeps you there.

“I need a second,” he tells you.

You smirk at that and start to grind on him. His hands make their way from your waist up to your breast. He squeezes both of them as his eyes roll back, and you know you have him right where you want him.

“Does that feel good?” You tease, moving your hips in slow circles.

He responds by snapping his eyes open and dropping a hand to press his thumb against your clit. A small gasp escapes your lips, and you grind against him harder. With each move of your hips, his cocks touches every part of you.

He’s working your clit with fervor, causing you to moan again as you feel the familiar sensation of another orgasm brewing within you.  

“No,” you exhale. “I want you to come too.”

“I could have several minutes ago,” he admits.

You chuckle at that.

“Together?”

“Mmm,” he moans his agreement, placing his other hand back on your hip.

He grips it tightly once again and you resume bouncing on him. He keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing it as you fuck him.

Looking down at him, you feel lucky to have this experience with him. He’s so kind, so caring, so giving. There’s no way you could repay him for all he’s done for you and all that he’s taught you. But you can, at least, please him.

From the look on his face, you can tell he’s close. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, gaze stuck on the sight of your body rising and falling on his cock.

You slide one of your hands up to his neck and squeeze it lightly.

“On me,” you repeat his words from earlier.

He fixes his eyes on yours, and you stare back just as intently.

He brings his hand up to cover yours, applying more pressure to your grip on his neck. He gives a subtle nod before moving his hand back to your hips. You squeeze tighter as your legs begin to shake again.

“Now?” He asks.

“Yes, come with me,” you tell him.

He thrusts his hips upwards to meet yours every time, as he spills inside of you. You feel the walls of your pussy clench around his cock as you come, too.

When you both finish, you release his neck and collapse on top of him. He wraps his arms around your back, holding you close and kissing the top of your head. He turns so that you’re both laying on your side, and you feel his softening cock leave your body.

He lifts up for a second and finds his boxers. He uses it to clean you up before tossing them onto the ground. He pulls you as close to him as possible. You hook a leg around his waist and bury your face into the crook of his neck.

You’re happy with him. You wish you could stay wrapped up safely in his embrace and avoid what you must face tomorrow. But you know you’ve put it off long enough.

[ read chapter 26 here ]

a/n: some much need hyunjin time. she needed a break before diving in to that conversation with Chan. more coming soon! if you'd like to sign up for the mailing list you can do so [ here ]. thank you to the 71 souls that have signed up already, ilysm.

[russellsppttemplates]

Not anymore (Lando Norris)

Lando's determined to make you see where you belong

Note: english is not my first language. I hope this is still enjoyable to read as I really challenged myself with these pieces! I'm not sure how good this is (or how much you will want to kill me)! This is part 2 of We don't fit together ! Edit: I used a line from dumplingsjinson (they're the best 🫶✨️)

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's insecurities about herself and about her relationship with Lando, curse words, bloodwork

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Part 1

The past couple of days were strange. Lando still sent you his usual good morning and good night texts he would send whenever you didn't spend the night together, and you replied. Still, because of your schedule and his schedule, the text for the dreaded conversation came through only this morning

From Lan

Needed to get my bloods done and then Jon also needed a physical assessment so this morning was a rush, but I'm free for the rest of the day if you want to talk, lovie

To Lan

I'll be home for the whole day, you can come here whenever it's best for you!

Tidying the place up a bit, the thoughts on your head kept the same train of ideas. You didn't fit his lifestyle, and the constant doubts you felt were certainly not the way you wanted to go about your life.

There was a knock on the door when you were fluffing the pillows and you walked up to open it, see Lando with somewhat dark circles under his eyes and a bunch of your favourite flowers, "Come in", you said softly as you both headed to the living room, sitting down since you didn't know what else to do.

"Thank you for texting, there was this part of me that didn't believe you would", you admitted. This was the time to be honest, still remaining polite and aware of the words leaving your mouth.

"Of course I did, Y/N, I want us to talk this out, I want us out of this rough patch", Lando pleaded softly, "I'm so sorry for not noticing you were feeling like this", he offered, cutting through the silence when you seemed to not know what to say to kick-start the conversation.

"It's not your fault, Lando", you spoke the truth, "you have been on my mind every conscious second, every thought is about this and I- I really don't know how we will do this, how we will do that", you pointed to him in allusion to the goal he had, "I'm sorry".

Lando gulped, rubbing his hands on his thighs before speakingup, "I did too, and I want you to know I just want you to be happy, fuck, there's nothing I want more in life than to see you happy, and right now it pains me that I am the one that's making you hurt", he let his heart out.

"It's not only your fault", you whispered again, this time looking at him. Your insecurities were just that - your own - and you were responsible from how certain triggers made you feel and react, "I have to be the one to know how to deal with these".

"And I want to help you, lovie, you don't have to do this all alone all the time", Lando offered, "I want us to work and this is a conjoined effort - you shouldn't be doing that alone".

Silence filled the room as the gears turned in your head before you looked up again, seeing the broken look on Lando's face, "Do you think we should take a break? Spend some time away from eachother?", you voiced.

Lando didn't expect the option you suggested. Spending time further apart didn't seem like the right thing to do when you were obviously feeling like you didn't fit in and belong in his life, "are you sure that's the way to go? We'll do what you feel the most comfortable and happy with, but I don't want you to feel like I want you away or that you have to keep away from me - I want you with me for as much time as you can give me".

"It's silly, I know - I've never done this before, I don't know what to do", you shrugged your shoulders. Usually, by the time any insecurities shone through, your past partners had already left.

Lando sighed, "If that is what you think is going to help I'm all in, Y/N. I'll do anything to prove to you that I'm serious about this, but I'm giving up on us, I'm going to fight for you", Lando stated as tears started forming in his eyes, keeping them at bay because this wasn't the end. It couldn't be.

"I'm going to show you just how much you belong with me and how well we fit together, okay?", he checked with you, seeing a small nod, the uncertainty behind it only fueling him to put all his efforts into it.

.

"I wanted to do something we haven't done in a while", Lando said over the phone as he packed the tupperwares into the basket.

"Yes? And what would that be?", you asked. Lando kept a respectful distance but he made sure that everyday that you didn't spend together, you knew he was thinking about you and doing all these little things to remind you of how much he loved you and how you were meant to be together.

"I'm not going to tell you because it's a surprise, but I need to warn you to bring comfortable shoes, and as much as I love your little dresses, anything without a skirt would be better", you heard him smile.

"Okay, anywhere I should go to?", you wondered, "I'll pick you up in about thirty minutes if that's okay?", he quesioned, getting a positive answer from you, "see you soon, beautiful girl, I love you!".

Lando finished packing the picnic basket, getting the napkins and the drinks from the fridge so he could go to his bedroom and get ready.

He planned a fun afternoon, starting with a cycle around the city before finishing with a picnic in the park as he knew it was one of your favourite things. He had come up with many of your favourite plans to do together lately and he was feeling good about it. There was nothing he wanted more than to show you that you fit together and that both of your lives could compliment eachother if you both made adjustments. He was going out less than he used to and favouring to spend that time with you, he made sure you knew he was there and that he wasn't planning on leaving.

Finding a t-shirt and some jeans, he got two buckets hats from the new Quadrant Spring collection they would be launching soon and got ready to leave the apartment.

The drive to your wasn't long, but he never knew with the after lunch traffic, finding a good spot for his car and seeing you already at the entrance of the building, checking the street before crossing it, "hey, Lan", you smiled as you got inside the vehicle, kissing his cheek softly as he drove out of the spot once you had your seatbelt on, "hey, baby, how has your day been?".

"It's good, better now that I'm getting out of the house with some very nice company", you smiled.

The park wasn't too far, and when Lando parked near the rental city bikes with a smirk on his face, you knew what he wanted to do for the afternoon, "we're cycling?", you beamed.

"Yes! I also have some snacks here for a picnic later", Lando got the basket from the cartrunk, carrying it to the bike and making sure it was safely attached to it, scanning the code for his bike and then yours.

"Wait", he said as you were making sure the seat was at the right height, cycling around the area. Fishing out the bucket hat from the basket, he shook it a little so it would have a nice shape before putting it on your head, kissing your lips softly as he looked at you, "these are new and I needed my prettiest model to try them on first", he charmed as you blushed, "plus, I don't want the sun to blind you or burn you".

You cycled around your favourite spots in town, Lando occasionally taking pictures of the city and you with his camera and waving at the odd person who noticed and recognised it was him and you on the bikes, before you returned to the park, deciding to cycle to your favourite spot by the old big trees, blossoming from the spring sun.

"Thank you for this", you mumbled as you wiped your lips free of crumbs from the cake you had.

"Y/N, I won't stop fighting for us when we have something worth fighting for", he smiled, pulling you to lay on the blanket with him and holding your hands between your bodies, "I also got this really cool invite for the new exhibition at the museum - that one you wanted to see - and you want to know why it is so cool? Because we get the exhibition all to ourselves, no one else is going to be there which means you can take as long as you want and I can admire you all to myself and all I want too", he kissed your cheek.

"Sounds like a nice plan, thank you", you kissed his jaw.

.

You scanned your paddock pass as walked in the directions you were giving, not wanting to mess up the schedule and the lined up events everyone had.

They had been experimenting with new events to promote motorsport, adding parties and sunset events to the race weekend on order to gather all of the sponsors, famous people and fans who were interested in seeing the behind the scenes of a luxurious and extravagant race weekend.

"Everyone who still doesn't have a bracelet can come through here, please", one of the women in black suits called as you stood in that line, waiting for you turn.

"Here you go, enjoy the party!", she smiled, letting you go through and carrying on with her tasks.

The section involving the paddock, pitlane and the starting grid decorated with lights over bars serving drinks while staff went around with trays with small canapés.

You supposed this did work or they wouldn't try it out, after all it was an expensive sport and the more investors and sponsors they got, the better, so every little interaction and publicity was welcomed. You recognised a lot for the faces from Instagram and other social media platforms, along with some of the sponsors you had spent races sitting next to in the garage.

The face you wanted to see the most was nowhere in sight as you saw Oscar and Zak in the distance, talking to someone you recognised being one of their sponsors.

When you stepped closer to the area where most drivers seemed to be hanging out, you spotted Lando and he spotted you.

It had been nearly a year since you called it quits. It wasn't working for you and no matter how much Lando tried and fought for your relationship, you still didn't feel comfortable and thought you'd be better without eachother. It wasn't easy and to this day it would probably be one of your biggest regrets.

Maybe today you'd get to ease that heavy feeling in your chest.

Lando knew a lot of people would be there tonight, but your face wasn't one he expected. Last thing he heard about you was that you had made a small career switch and started working with another company, so he figured you were probably invited through one of the people with deep pockets wanting to invest in motorsport, knowing how it always looks nice on the company to invite employees to these fixtures.

As he saw his father and Max walk up to where you were, he walked in your direction, hoping to divert them so they wouldn't see you, another person pulled him with him to the side for a photo and it became impossible for him to not notice you and the other way around.

“It’s been… It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”, you spoke up when you locked eyes and stood close enough to eachother.

"Yes, it has", Lando stated, "how have you been?", he wondered.

"I've been okay, and I see you have been doing well too - the car looks great this year", you congratulated, "I've been meaning to text you because I wanted to talk", you tried.

It took you some time to work on your insecurities, to learn to feel uncomfortable in some situations and get yourself out of them, and now you felt ready to begin again, feeling comfortable in your own skin.

"What did you want to tell me? You can tell me here", he stated coldly.

To say you broke his heart would be an understatement.

Despite all of his efforts, stopping DJ'ing, being conscious of who he hung out with, making sure he spent as much time with you as he could, you still raised concerns about how you were like oil and water.

Not made to be together.

"This really isn't the best place", you looked around as he pulled you inside the McLaren garage that was just on the side, exchanging a look with the security guard that was making sure no one broke in without permission.

"Is it good here now?", he offered.

"It will have to do", you smiled, "I'm sorry things didn't work out before - I wasn't in a good place and things weren't working out the way I'd like", you offered, "and I feel better now".

"Let me stop you right there before this gets out of hand and I hurt you, because I have never wanted that and I don't want it now", Lando said sternly, catching you off guard, "making peace with the fact that we weren't going to work out together was one of the hardest things I've done - I was miserable, didn't enjoy racing or anything that I was doing because I didn't have you by my side - you left me when I needed you", he poured his heart out.

He didn't shout and he didn't yell, but every word stung. Both from how true they were and how he had hurt because of you.

"I'm sorry, Lando, I wasn't trying to diminish how you felt then", you clarified.

"I know you didn't, but this isn't how it works, fuck", he rubbed his temple, "You don’t get to just waltz back into my life and think that I’d be okay with it - I waited so long for you, and I wanted to wait longer if you had let me, but now I can't do that, not anymore", he stated firmly.

"Are you saying we don't have another chance?", you asked as your bottom lip wobbled, "I promise I'll be more open about how I feel, and second guessing wo-".

“You were it at one point, you know?”, Lando shook his head as he looked at his feet before looking up back at you, "my parents, Max, Carlos - everyone agreed with me when I said you were my endgame", he offered.

There had been a time where he wished for this. For you to come to him and tell him you wanted him back and how it had all been a mistake. Now that he was hearing it, he realised he didn't want it, not anymore.

[starseungs]

after the curtain falls. lmh

lee know x gn!reader — spring was a season welcomed by all. what a pity that the notion of ‘all’ exempted you.

genre/s — angst, fluff, its just hurt-comfort, university au • 2.9k words

warning/s — break-up aftermath, profanity, commitment issues, minho gets called a bad bf (sorry), there's a twist i swear !

note — its quite literally been a year since i last wrote a fic so i would love to know how the quality of my writing is !! feedback is greatly appreciated 🫶

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Spring was never supposed to be this lifeless.

It was a season of new beginnings, where growth is celebrated and life is nurtured back into full bloom. A time of bright colors and freshly scented air floating all throughout the expanse of space, bringing soft smiles of comfort towards anyone who takes it in. Springtime was welcomed by all.

What a pity that the notion of ‘all’ exempted you.

You didn’t know why your spring was so vastly different from the others near you. You’d like to think that your winter started off just as normal as everybody else: watching the crisp fallen leaves on the ground get replaced by a fresh coat of snow, feeling the familiar prick of the icy season’s breeze on your skin as your body tried to suppress a giggling shiver, as well as seeing puffs of steam come out of every warm breath you took, reminding you that despite the cold weather, you still held a warmth inside of you.

Just who would have known that your spring would be the complete opposite, with your heart frosted over despite the rising temperatures? But somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew exactly why. You would never want to catch yourself admitting it, but maybe it was the way your winter ended in a snowstorm of emotions.

It wasn’t every winter that someone had a fight that could completely shatter an intricately built mosaic. It also wasn’t every winter that you would watch your other half walk out of your life without so much of a single falter.

You knew so damn well that it wasn’t every winter that you could get your heart broken.

Perhaps that was why you allowed your heart to get glazed over by ice. After all, it was the only thing keeping it together without requiring you to spend too much effort. Sure, it melted a bit every now and then, but it was easier to freeze liquid than it was to achieve the complete opposite.

It was for the same reason that you found solace in the springtime evenings, where it resembled even half of the winter that was keeping you human. The dimmed atmosphere of the surroundings was able to neutralize all the parading palettes of color, leaving you with a monochrome wonderland that was much more comforting to the eye.

The walk back to your dorm building wasn’t anything special. It really wasn’t supposed to, nor did you expect something to happen. You had just gotten over the hurdles of coursework back in the school’s library when you decided to call it a day, peacefully trek back to your dorm room, and get to sleep the hours away until duty calls. That was how your evening was supposed to go.

Except it didn’t.

When you first saw a figure more or less passed out near the lower steps of your dorm building, you were visibly concerned. Why wouldn’t you be? At this time of the day, it would be dangerous to just leave yourself undefended in public. That, and who in their right mind would be willing to snooze away amidst the midnight breeze?

That was enough for you to start a little jog toward them. Was this person locked out? Were they drunk? Should you help them? All sorts of questions popped into your head as you got closer to the steps the figure took as their bed for the night.

And yet all those same questions vanished into thin air the moment you caught a glimpse of the person’s face.

“—Minho?”

His name came out of your lips so frail, as if any stronger, and the scene before you would shatter into nothingness, telling you once again that it was all in your head. That you had wished to see him again.

It was almost comical just how fast the sight of him brought back the familiar prick in your eyes—the tears fighting the crisp blow of the wind to keep themselves at bay. This wasn’t how your evening was supposed to go.

Granted, the fight between you was a petty one. Well, not more so petty than sudden since it literally blew up out of nowhere. It started off with a question about commitment. Arguably simple one of where you saw each other in a few years. You had gone first after you asked, rambling happily about graduation and living together. Minho chuckled along with your plans, and to you, he even seemed glad to hear them.

Yet, when the topic of marriage was brought up, his smile immediately turned blank.

Of course, you noticed his drastic change of mood right away. What kind of significant other would you be if you didn’t? But when you reached out to ask him what was wrong, he merely brushed it off as being tired.

Except that both you and him had done nothing but lay around the whole day.

Maybe you, too, had a fault in all of this. You prodded him more about the topic, not knowing you were agitating a ticking time bomb running out of time. If you only knew, then it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he eventually exploded, spitting out that he wasn’t too sure about marriage.

In your view, that would have been fine. You were willing to talk it out; perhaps he had other plans for the both of you that would settle just fine in yours. There was no way you’d pressure Minho into doing something he didn’t feel like doing. You had too much love and respect for him to do so.

It was in an unfortunate turn of events that you had to find out the sentiment wasn’t shared in the same way you did, as when he slammed your room’s door shut after expressing that it wouldn’t work out, he took a piece of your heart with him that left you incomplete on the days that followed.

And yet, there he was again. Marching into your life like nothing ever happened.

In a blinding flash of hot white fury, you marched up to Minho’s peaceful figure, blissfully unaware of the chaos headed his way. Your body shook in the repressed burst of energy, trying not to lose yourself in public despite the area devoid of people. After reaching him in less than a minute, you saw no hesitation in leaning down to wake him.

“Minho,” you grasped at his right shoulder, trying to shake him out of slumber. You saw the action as intense in a way that was borderline frantic, not a care for the state of the joint you had grabbed. After all, why would you? Yet, while you’d like to believe you did a great job at expressing your displeasure, a small voice pestering at the back of your mind begged to say otherwise.

It was a mere whisper—directed at the act you just committed, one that shouldn’t even bother you in the slightest. Yet, it did. So painfully so.

That kind of gentleness isn’t reserved for a heart swirling in rage.

The slight squeeze in your heart at the notion only made you grit your teeth further in displeasure. Curse your damned heart for keeping its fondness for the man before you. The same man who was still up in dreamland while you were fighting your own war at the present. You clicked your tongue in building irritation.

“Wake up, or else I’m leaving you out here to freeze.” With one last shove, Minho finally came back to Earth.

You watched as he fluttered his eyes open, ignoring the warmth that seemed to spread over you once you got a glimpse of his big almond eyes. Minho sure took his sweet time to process his surroundings, causing you to purse your lips in uncertainty when his gaze lingered on your figure towering over him a bit too long with an unexplainable emotion.

“Hi,” he mumbled slowly, a small smile ghosting on his rosy lips. “Even in my dreams, you never fail to look so lovely.”

Cold air filled your lungs as you sucked in a breath at his words. You hated the way he easily melted the ice that you had covered your heart in. Without even meaning to, Minho had already managed to tear down the first layer of protection you had set up to keep yourself sane. There were a lot of things you wanted to tell him back, but you held your tongue. This wasn’t the right time.

Nor would that time ever come.

“It’s not a dream,” you opted to inform him of what was left of the goodness in your heart, partly feeling guilty for his disoriented state. “Get up, Minho. It’s cold out here.”

“You’re—what, wait!”

Minho scrambled frantically from his seated position on the dorm building’s steps, clumsily finding his balance to get up. The rush of suddenly standing after a nap came over him like a wave, causing him to stumble with a groan as he let the blood that came up settle. You sighed at Minho’s efforts, turning back around to continue your way towards the entrance.

“You should go back home.”

“I won’t!” He replied in haste, pure desperation seeping over his words. “Not again. Not when I spend every passing hour regretting that I did back then when I clearly shouldn’t have.”

You felt your world still at what Minho had just said. Did you hear it correctly?

“Please, Y/N.”

Minho’s footsteps echoed in your mind, telling you that he was moving closer. But your body had yet to listen to the warning bells you had set off, keeping you still in the same place you had stopped in. You surprised yourself with the small whimper that escaped your lips after feeling warmth radiating right behind you.

“Can—can I hug you?”

And just like that, the dam broke as the first fits of sobs spluttered out of your body in waves, barely getting contained as Minho wrapped you with his arms firmly. You turned to face him just to throw weak punches at his chest. “I hate you so much!”

“I know,” he said, hugging you tighter, as if you would disappear the moment he eased his hold. “I know you do.”

“Do you know how hurt I was? How could you just leave me like that!”

“I don’t know,” Minho answers again, completely giving in to your inner turmoil. He let you dampen his hoodie with your tears without any reference. “I was stupid.”

“So stupid!”

“Very stupid,” he repeats your words without hesitation, finally pulling back slightly to see your tear-stained face, gently wiping the fresh drops that escaped with his thumb.

You cursed the way your body naturally leaned into his touch. You disliked the way his voice soothed your running mind from the horrors it placed upon yourself. You hated the way you felt comforted by his presence, the same way he hurt you with his absence.

And most of all, you despised the way you couldn’t bring yourself to stay mad at him.

“I’m sorry,” Minho said heavily, visibly trying to keep his own tears at bay. “I know that won’t fix all the things that happened, but I still wanted to let you know.”

You exhaled shakily.

“I—I won’t force you to accept my apology,” he continued. “But please—God, Y/N. I don’t think I’d be able to handle you telling me to go home and never fixing us. I wouldn’t survive in this world without you by my side. I promise I’ll do better for you. I’ll reflect on what I need to, just—”

Minho breathed in deeply.

“Give me another chance.”

The two of you breathed in unison for the first time in weeks.

“Cut!”

“Nice,” Jisung’s squeal of joy could be heard throughout the wide space, carefully fumbling with his video camera to watch the scene’s replay. “That was a great take!”

Seungmin groans at the noise level. “Seriously, would it hurt you to keep it down? Some people are already asleep,” he scoffs, really not wanting to deal with a complaint filed against them this late into the night.

The younger of the two only juts his lower lip forward into a childish pout. “But it’s only midnight. We’re in university. Who gets to sleep that early in university?” Seungmin only bites back a retort after sensing genuine confusion in Jisung’s tone.

“Whatever,” he grumbled.

At the sound of their bickering, the late night’s breeze didn’t seem to be as frosty as it was a few minutes ago. You distantly hear Seungmin and Jisung continue to talk, now finding themselves in a heated discussion about the next scene. A light chuckle was heard coming from the man still holding you.

“Well, I’m glad that they’re having fun,” Minho comments, greatly amused at the duo. You felt his gaze drop down towards your head, still resting on his shoulder. “Feeling okay?”

You could only nod at his query, too exhausted from enacting the scene that just finished. He hummed at your non-verbal approach to answering, running a hand through your hair to soothe your dropping emotions.

“What’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours?” You let out a soft giggle at his wording before snuggling yourself closer to his figure. Minho lets you do your thing with a smile.

“Let’s not ever do that.”

“Do what, love?” He asks, requesting that you elaborate. You listened to his heartbeat thump calmly before speaking up.

“Break up,” you said, the thought leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. “I don’t like the feeling. It hurts.”

Minho laughs again, but this time it was aimed at you. “Well, of course it’s going to hurt,” he says with a light tone. “You’re going to be losing me!” You slapped his arm in annoyance.

“You are such an ass, Lee Minho!”

“Ow—hold on!” He chokes out in between chuckles. Minho takes hold of the hand that was assaulting his arm, slipping it into his own and entangling both of your fingers. You couldn’t help the heat that washed over your face at the intimate action. Minho seemed satisfied with your reaction. “If it makes you feel better, it’s going to hurt me too.”

You pull away to raise a brow at his statement. “Why? Since you’ll be single?” Minho pretends to think for a second.

“I mean, I guess?” You shot him an icy glare at his admission, but the tender smile he gave back at you made your angry facade falter in an instant. It looks like on-screen you had the same issues with their own Minho—both being undeniably weak when it came to them.

“Stop giving me that look,” you sigh amidst a smile you were suppressing.

“What look?”

“That look,” you say, almost in a breath as you struggle to chase the words out of your mouth. “The one when you look at me like I’m the only person in this world.”

It was a look you’ve seen too many times. One that he would give you both at the most intimate of moments and the most random of times. You see it when you wake up in the morning to him already awake beside you; you saw it when you squealed in joy after winning a prize from those rigged claw machines in the arcade across town; and you see it especially when he sees you waiting outside his class’ building after an extensive lecture, holding two cups of coffee for both you and him. It was from those times that you realized—it was Minho’s gaze of unfiltered love for you.

Minho pulls you back into his arms, still unable to let go of his endearing grin. Your head finds its way back into the crevice of his neck, finding home in it once again, like second nature.

“That’s because you are the only person in my world.”

“We beg to differ.”

Minho could only roll his eyes at the eerily synchronized voices of Jisung and Seungmin, leaving you to crumble into fits of laughter. He scoffs before replying, “If I lose my beloved darling, then you guys are losing an actor.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be trying to salvage your relationship if you stopped being such a shit boyfriend!” Jisung bites back at Minho’s threat.

“What, so you would rather watch us be all lovey-dovey in front of you? I didn’t take you for that kind of person, Jisung.”

“Seungmin, he’s fighting me again!”

“What am I, your mom?”

The night continued on in blissful laughter and amused smiles, finally fitting for the season of spring. Even with the chilled breeze of the evening air, the warmth exuding from the four of you would remain, defrosting the ice you had layered on your heart for the scene given to you. Deep in your mind, you knew that this was really how your night was supposed to go.

That as much as you loved creating little scenarios for your friends’ films, you’d always prefer the life you had after the curtain falls.

mastertag 🔖— send in an ask if you want to be added ! 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu

sorry for anyone tagged that didn't want to be !! i used my old mastertag from a year ago for this fic. i'll be creating a new one soon, so kindly just tell me if you want to be included still 🤍

[sincerelybubbles]

i just think that james would make the best boyfriend. and i know it's not a new thought or even an uncommon one, everyone knows james loves fast and he loves deep, but i cannot help but imagine how healthy your relationship would be with him.

like, yes, when he picks you he's fiercely protective and obsessed with you beyond belief. he's always touching you, skin to skin, pouting when you're holding his hand because you're wearing gloves and he wants to feel you ("I'll put your hand in my pocket," he whines when you explain that your hand is just cold. you give him a fake glare but three minutes later, tops, you're holding his hand, no gloves, in his hoodie pocket and he's walking around with the biggest grin on his face, all white teeth on display). he compliments you every time you turn a corner for everything you do, he drops anything and everything for you the second you even breathe like you might need something. his professions of love are as breathtaking as they are frequent ("i just love the way you exist," he whispers in the morning, smoothing your hair out of your face, "i mean, it's 7 in the morning and usually i'm struggling to open my eyes but your hair is frizzy and i know where all of your freckles are and i can't wait to count them, you know?").

but i think beyond that, there's a sort of solidness that comes from healing together. from finding the flaws in your relationships, testing them until the cracks widen enough for you two to patch together, and relishing in the firmness of what used to be weak. james overwork himself. he used to spend restless hours finishing work at home, dejectedly pushing you off in fear of letting down his coworkers. working at the gym until his muscles screamed, unable to even lift his fork for dinner without his pecs screaming at him. planning dates and activities on your days off together to the point where you felt like you couldn't breathe. everything done with the lacing of care, tinged with the effort he put into every moment of life. it felt wrong for you to comment on at first. he tries so hard all of the time to do everything for everyone -- be everything for everyone, even himself. good things, at their core, that you didn't want to rub the shine out of by getting your fingerprints on. but you watched him fracture and put him back together when the effort became too much and crumpled his facade. you taught him self-restraint, reminded him to allow you to take some of the burden, showed him the simple pleasure of taking up space together without thinking of how every moment could be maximized. in turn, he helped you with sleep. self-confidence. how to talk through hurt feelings instead of lashing out.

james wouldn't let comments turn into fights. ("what do you mean when you say that?" he asks instead, sitting beside you and ducking his head to meet your eye, be at your level. his fingertips rest on your forearm, skin-to-skin like always. eyes open, alert, lips pressed together to tell you he's confused, doesn't agree, but posture telling you he's willing to listen more than he's willing to escalate). and when fights happen, of course they happen, you've taught him it's okay to walk away. it's not defeat. neither of you leave the flat, only to separate rooms, but it usually only takes 20 minutes before you're reaching out again, missing his warm fingers settling on the soft place behind your ear as he messes with your hair while you talk, and you're whispering your way through the problem. untangling to the root like it's a tangled group of threads, working through it together,

so, yeah, i can't stop thinking about how james would be such a good boyfriend. for the obvious reasons, always, but for the ones deeper from the surface. for the reasons that would cause issues first and how ready he would be to dive in and make the faults strengths of their own as well.

not edited, not proof read, i'm so sorry it's 1am and i can't stop thinking about him

[yuikomorii]

Ayayui date♡

// I'm not sure why, but I suddenly got a burst of creativity. There's no special occasion for this post; it was really just an excuse to edit Yui in my favorite Princess Collection outfit. I like how the merch line was released right on Ayato’s birthday, so I really wanted to see an Ayayui date in those outfits! 😌💕

I was in the mood to write a special scenario again. You just have to click on ‘Keep reading’ to find it. This one is set after the LE events, particularly after the After Story, so I hope you enjoy it! ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

Ayato: Haa… finally!

After all this time, I’ve managed to sort out every single problem in the Demon World.

Geez, I’m gladly taking a break!

( Ever since I became king, I’ve been buried in an endless pile of documents—so many that I’ve grown sick just being in that place. Things seem to be getting better in the Demon World, though I’d lie to say it’s perfectly stable. )

( Well, whatever. I shouldn’t bother too much about that… for now. )

( Right now, all I can think about is her. Ugh, these stupid king duties have kept us apart for way too long. I’m sure she must’ve felt really lonely, huh…? )

( Damn it! That was never my intention, but I know it must be boring as hell to be stuck in the castle all day by yourself. )

( That’s why, I’m definitely going to make it up to her today and take her somewhere nice~! )

Place: Their room

Ayato: Chi-chi-na-shi, guess who’s ba—

( Hah!? She’s not here? )

Oi, Yui!

( She’s still not answering? )

Yui, where are yo—

???: Ayato-kun..!

— hugs his back —

Ayato: What the—!

Yui: Fufu, sorry for taking you off guard. I was just thrilled to see Ayato-kun again!

Ayato: Geez, next time I call you, answer me, understood? You’re still in the Demon World, anything could happen when no one’s around, y’know?

Yui: Ah… I’m sorry for being careless. I hope I didn’t make you worry…

Ayato: No need to sulk now. What matters the most is that you’re alright.

Now… about the thing you’re wearing. Where the heck did you even get it from? It’s the first time I’ve seen you in it.

Yui: Oh, actually I bought it last time we went shopping together. You see… I didn’t show it to you back then because I wanted it to be a surprise, but uuh… does it not suit me?

Ayato: Haa… normally, when a woman wants to surprise her man, she wears lingerie or something sexy, but I’ll forgive you this time. Why? Because you look hella cute in that, can’t deny.

— Yui blushes —

Yui: Ayato-kun… thank you! I’m really happy…!

Ayato: ( Is she seriously almost on the verge of tears for that? )

C-C’mon, don’t get all emotional over every little thing. The date hasn’t even started yet! You really want people to see you with red eyes and puffy cheeks outside?

— Yui shakes head —

Ayato: Good, now let’s go!

— He takes her hand —

Place: Kaminashi City

Ayato: Can’t believe I’m gonna say this but I somehow missed this place.

Yui: Is that so? I thought Ayato-kun didn’t like the Human World.

Ayato: I don’t mind either of them, but right now I’m sick of the Demon World. If I see one more document, I will end up throwing up on the spot.

Yui: Ayato-kun…

( That’s right, he’s been working a lot ever since he became king. I’m sure it must truly be tiring spending days in front of all those documents. )

I’m glad you put a lot of effort in your role, but take it easy, okay? I can’t do much in this situation, yet… If you ever need help, I want to be there to support you!

Ayato: Hmm… anyway. I’m not here to talk about work again. I just want us to enjoy some time together for once.

Yui: ( Ayato-kun really sounds exhausted… He’s matured so much these past few months, which isn’t bad, but I just wish he could relax a little. )

Then, let’s make the best of this day!

— tugs onto his arm and starts walking —

*Timeskip*

Yui: Haa… it’s way better outside.

( Ayato-kun is still waiting to pay for our things, but it was way too hot in that store, so he told me to get some fresh air. )

( Now that I think about it, vampires are always cold, so I doubt the heat bothers him as much as it does me, right? Even so, seeing him care about my comfort makes me really happy. )

— warm breeze hits —

Yui: Mm… so ni—

— something suddenly hits her —

Yui: Kyah! What on earth was that!?

Eh? That’s—

Familiar: Greetings. Pardon my interruption, but could it be that you are Komori Yui-sama?

Yui: ( ‘Sama’? Uuh… I feel like that’s an exaggeration. )

Yes, I am. Did anything happen…?

Familiar: Rest assured, there is no need for alarm. My purpose here is simply to entrust this to your care. Unable to find Ayato-sama, I must rely on you to deliver him this letter.

— Yui takes it —

Yui: But, what’s this letter about?

If it’s possible to tell, of course.

Familiar: In essence, a new set of documents has been prepared for Ayato-sama. Please inform him at your earliest convenience, as his return is eagerly anticipated.

Yui: Wait! Does it mean that he really has to return now—!

( Oh no! The familiar is already gone! )

( To think that Ayato-kun was finally starting to relax again… )

( All this letter will do is ruin his day, that’s for sure. )

( But at the same time, not showing it to him… that would undoubtedly get him in troubles. )

( Uuh… This situation is so complicated. What should I do…? )

Ayato: Chichinashi!!!

Yui: ….!

— suddenly hides the letter —

A-Ah, Ayato-kun, you’re back!

Ayato: Duh, and I kept calling your name but it seems you only answer to Chi-chi-na-shi~.

— He starts pinching her cheeks —

Yui: Whey dwont, staphh!

Ayato: Hehe, that’s what you get for spacing out and ignoring me.

Anyway, you weren’t approached by any creeps, were you?

Yui: N-No, not at all!

Ayato: Hmm… that doesn’t sound too honest. Are you lying?

Yui: No way! I… I’m just hungry and my stomach won’t stop growling, which is really embarrassing…

Ayato: Haa… you never change. Always getting embarrassed over everything, but no worries, I didn’t hear anything. Though, if you’re really that hungry, I guess we could get something to eat.

Yui: Y-Yeah, that sounds great!

* Timeskip *

Yui: ( After the restaurant, we went to the mall, then back to the center. Ayato-kun… we walked a lot today, but instead of getting tired, he just got more and more energetic. )

( I suppose he was really in need of this break, so maybe hiding that letter wasn’t entirely bad, no…? Still, I’ll have to give it to him today, otherwise I’ll surely put him at risk… )

Ayato: Oi Yui, look!

Yui: W-Woah! I’ve never seen such big Takoyaki before!

Ayato: Heh, right? It’s even bigger than the ones from the Demon World!

Also, Ore-sama got you this, so I better see you eat it all.

Yui: Eh-? This is such a big donut! T-There’s no way I could eat all of it!

Ayato: So you’re refusing my donut? You’re way too ungrateful for a Chichinashi. Well, in that case, I guess you don’t need it any—

Yui: No, no, the donut is good!

— starts eating it —

Come to think of it, today you’ve spoiled me quite a lot, Ayato-kun.

Ayato: And why would that be bad? I thought women liked that.

Yui: It’s not bad, but I really didn’t do anything special. You’re the one who’s been working all day and night, for this reason I believe you deserve this treatment more.

Ayato: Haa… getting all self-conscious, just like always.

Look, you know I’m not good at sentimental shit, but after everything we’ve been through, your presence is special enough for me.

I guess I just want to cherish you, that’s all.

Yui: Ayato-kun… I feel the——

A-Ah, oh no!

( The chocolate… it melted on my hand! )

I-I’m sorry, I’ll be right back!

— tries to stand up —

Ayato: Nah, nah. C’mere.

— grabs her and sits her on his lap —

Yui: Wait, don’t!

— he starts licking her hand —

Yui: A-Ayato-kun, stop it! We’re in public…!

Ayato: Mnn… Mm…

— slowly bites —

Yui: Uuh…

( At this rate, people will definitely start watching!)

— starts moving —

Ayato: Tch, you’re making this way too hard for both! Just stay still and stop acting like I’m about to kill you!

Yui: ( I know his intentions aren’t bad, but this is getting too embarrassing…! )

( I’m sorry, Ayato-kun! )

— tries to push him away but falls down —

Yui: Oww…

Ayato: ( Geez, what a klutz. )

Haa… are you hurt?

— grabs her arm and picks her up —

Yui: Ah, I’m alright, no worries.

Ayato: Oi.

What’s that?

— picks something up —

Yui: ….!

Ayato: Is that… a letter for me?

— starts reading it —

You… you had it all this time with you and didn’t say a word?!

Yui: I… I can explain!

You see, I thought—

Ayato: Shut up!

Do you even have the slightest clue about what you just did!? I seriously doubt you understand how important king duties are, do you?

Hah, of course, you don’t! Why would you?

You sit around doing absolutely nothing all day while I’m working my ass off to make sure you and everyone else can live comfortably!

I’m out here putting in the effort, grinding to create a decent life, not just for you, but for everyone, even if I didn’t ask for this shit. And you do this to me!?

I thought you matured too, but at the end of the day, you’re nothing but a selfish bitch!

Yui: Wait! Ayato-ku—

Ayato: Don’t touch me!

Yui: …!

Please, listen to me!

— grabs his clothes —

Ayato: Quiet! I’m not risking to go through that again only because of someone like you. Get lost!

— pushes her away and leaves —

Yui: …!

No… No… this can’t be the end…

How… How could I be this stupid…? Hhn… Ngh…

Kuh… Ayato-kun.. Nhn…

Place: Avenue

Ayato: (Fuck! I can’t return to the Demon World right now. )

( On top of that, why the hell am I the one feeling guilty now!? )

( She… Yes, she deserved that treatment. That’s what she gets for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Besides, what she did could lead to something dangerous. )

( It’s not the first time she pulls such shit on me anyway, but… )

( Why can’t I stay mad at her no matter what she does to me…? )

Tch, such bullsh— Hah?

Guy 1: Aww, she’s playing hard to get~!

Guy 2: Aren’t you a bit too feisty for a crybaby?

???: S-Stop it! Leave me alone!

Ayato: …!

( That voice… Yui! )

Place: Alley

Yui: I-I told you to stop!

Guy 1: Just come with us, it’ll be fun~.

Yui: No, I don’t want to!

Guy 2: She keeps struggling, isn’t she cu——

— gets punched —

Guy 1: What the—

Guy 2: Such strength!

Yui: Eh?

Ayato: Get out of my sight, you bastards! If you don’t leave this girl alone right now, I’ll make sure your already disgusting faces get even worse!

— they start running away —

Yui: Ayato-kun… thank you!

( He came back for me… )

Ayato: ….

— grabs her hand and starts walking —

*Timeskip*

Yui: ( Ever since Ayato-kun saved me, he hasn’t spoken a word. )

( It’s obvious that he’s mad… )

( But if both of us keep quiet, this conflict will never be solved… )

Ayato & Yui simultaneously: I’m sorry.

Yui: ( Eh? Did he just— )

No… I’m the one who should apologize. I hid that letter, knowing full well the consequences it could have.

However… I only did it because I wanted Ayato-kun to have some free time for himself too.

Ayato: You…

Yui: I’m aware of how much work you have to do, and being king is definitely not easy. That’s why, I really admire your for that.

Nevertheless, it saddens me seeing Ayato-kun so stressed out and exhausted. I want Ayato-kun to be always as energetic and cheerful as he was today, but… I do realize that I’m just being selfish.

Ayato: No… You… You’re not selfish, I am.

I was the one who didn’t listen to your side of the story. It’s just... I’m afraid of failing as king. There, I said it!

I don’t want to put the people I care for in danger, nor can’t I accept being a worse king than that old fart, so all I have to do is carry out my duties. Hell yeah, they’re a pain in the ass but that’s my responsibility now, which is why I can’t back off.

Yui: ( Ayato-kun… I never thought you felt that way… )

N-no, the way you reacted was understandable. Anyone under that much stress might have done the same, and I can’t blame you for it.

Besides, I can’t say your words were wrong. I am indeed incapable of fully understanding the challenges you face, however… no matter what happens, I want you to know that you’ll always be the best king to me…!

Ayato: …!

Heh… you really never change.

— hugs her—

Yui: W-Well, I suppose I can’t change if I do nothing all day.

Ayato: Hmph, are you throwing shade at me for what I told you?

Yui: Eh? No way, it was just a coincidence! I swear!

Ayato: Pfft, proved my point. You'll forever stay the clumsy, stupid, and oddly adorable woman that you are.

Yui: Hey, that’s backhan— Mm…!

Ayato: Nn…

Yui: ( Ayato-kun… his kiss is so gentle… )

( I really missed Ayato-kun’s kisses. I’m so happy…! )

Ayato: Oi, don’t tell me you’re about to cry again.

Yui: I’m not but…

I just want to know, will the letter get Ayato-kun in troubles…?

Ayato: I might get some weird looks for not showing up on time, and maybe a lecture or two, but it shouldn’t be too bad. I was supposed to start on them today since there’s a lot, but... I think I’d rather spend my time with my girl instead.

Yui: Is that so? Thank you.

But doesn't that mean you'll have to work even harder to make up for today?

Ayato: I guess it can’t be helped. I don’t want to think of tomorrow, all I want is to focus on the present.

Yui: Fufu, I see. By the way…

Will you uhm… stay overnight too?

Ayato: Heh~? Is that supposed to be a sex invitation?

Yui: I… T-That’s—!

Ayato: Heh~, don’t even try to get out of it, it’s written all over your face.

Rest assured though, the invitation is accepted~.

— Smooch —

[celestie0]

hi friends, i won’t be posting or updating any of my works for an indefinite period n will be on hiatus from this blog as well.

i’ve unlisted kickoff & ihm on ao3 (haven’t deleted, they’ve just been made private) and i’ve unpinned my masterlist here on tumblr (again nothing’s been deleted so you could probably find the chapters if you searched my tags)

but the reason i did that is because i don’t want any new readers finding my works during my hiatus because i don’t want to potentially upset more people in the event that, during this hiatus, i decide that i would no longer like to write my fics

that would be an insanely sad decision to make. i put so much thought into my stories not because i am trying to make them entertaining, but it’s because they genuinely mean so much to me and are cathartic in ways i can’t describe. i have spent a great majority of my life self negating for the sake of others, and so writing was just a form of expression where i could talk about all the things i’ve suppressed over the years - anxiety, career stress, financial stress, avoidance, depression, loss, coming of age, navigating love, etc

but lately, and i do think it’s been a build up of just some careless words from a handful of people over the months, i find myself steering towards a practice of writing that is no longer asking the question “how can i put as much of myself in this piece as possible?” but rather “how can i make sure people won’t criticize this…i feel awful that it doesn’t have what they want it to have…other creators are doing xyz, should i be doing that too?…i’m just scared to share this”

not exactly sure when that shift in headspace began, but as of right now, it’s as strong as ever. and i understand that those questions may seem irrational, and i just have to try to not focus on the feeling, n i wish i was someone that could compartmentalize those thoughts better, but here’s the thing — the whole reason i started expressing myself through writing in the first place was because i’ve spent my whole life compartmentalizing. it would feel so ironic & untrue to the lessons i’ve learned in this journey if i just chose to “suck this up” and continue pushing forward until i reach a point of burnout simply because i don’t want to upset anyone

i’m really sorry i couldn’t focus on the positive. especially with all the insane n incredible amount of love n support i’ve received for my works. i’ve said this time n time again but when i started posting kickoff to ao3 back in january of this year, i had NO idea it would be this loved by so many people…i was like ok can’t wait to interact w these four readers for the rest of the year…and then BAM, i find myself fully sobbing after each chapter update because i was so touched by all the sweet n kind words. i don’t want this decision to come off in a way that makes it seems like i don’t love u guys sm or that i’m ungrateful — i’ve always taken pride in respecting my audience. even for a simple hobby, i try to put effort into my works. i proofread, i plan out, i edit in length, all because i am, well, for one, i’m a bit of a perfectionist LOL but also i think there’s a great deal of honor in respecting an audience that gives you their time n attention

but i already am struggling in my life to focus on the positive. medicine has been such an incredibly daunting career to pursue, i’m honestly only doing slightly better now because i’m just filled with relief that i got into med school to begin with lol it’s still surreal to me, so the stress has been kinda manageable so far on that sense of optimism, but dear god the shit i went through to get here…and the shit i know i still face ahead of me. i spend all of my serotonin on trying to stay positive in the face of my responsibilities. so all of this time i’ve spent trying to stay positive for the sake of my stories too has just left me with so much exhaustion — i just don’t see why posting my works should be anything less than fun and endlessly exciting when it’s a hobby that’s supposed to help me thru the actual brunt of life.

anyways, i’m getting a little carried away here. all this to say, i just need to take time away from posting my works so i can see writing as something for myself n not for others again. i don’t want the thoughts swimming in my head to be thoughts of anxiety over people potentially criticizing me n my creative decisions. i want the thoughts in my head to once again be positive, excited, and nurturing towards my stories. i don’t see how i can accomplish that at this point unless i start writing for myself once more, and not for others

i still have a great deal of passion to write, which is why i haven’t formally taken down my works. i anticipate that i may be able to come back in the future to share my writing again. but as of right now, i just want to heal the relationship that i have with this hobby, and i feel like that’s gotta happen in private (lmfao it sounds like im tryna freak my writing)

i’m sorry that i turned off my asks n my replies, i know so many of u care about me n want to support me n i just am beyond thankful. i don’t anticipate this is a forever goodbye, but i do just need some time rn away from all of this.

hope u all have a happy time!! and take care of yourselves :) much love

- ellie

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

First off your writing is incredible. I was in literal tears reading your Daryl fic.

But I thought I'd send in a request, a jealous Daryl. Doesnt have to be established reader, pretty easy. I just like it when he's all riled up. 😂 Please and thank you

Jealousy

Summary: He could have just told her, couldn’t he? That would have been simple. He’d had to yell at her instead though, because Daryl can never do things the usual way round. Hand down her skirt and about to run away for the second time really was more his style.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Nervous!Daryl. Angst. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Alexandria era. Vague, very short smut.

A/N: Thank you for this request and the beautiful compliment! I may have rushed the editing a little so if you notice any errors please tell me!

It’s not that she’s been avoiding him, it’s the complete opposite, she’s absolutely, inarguably, infuriatingly normal. He’s clawing at the walls of his own brain and she’s acting as if everything is fine. Maybe it is, he thinks, maybe she’s over it, maybe she’s been over it since the second he screwed it up and he’s the only one still hanging on to whatever it was in the first place. He can’t even claim he’s hanging on to much, they’d barely even kissed and it was months ago, but he hadn’t exactly been good at this kind of thing before the world threw a damn apocalypse into the mix.

He’d loved her since the moment he’d heard her laugh. He’d found her in a cabin in the woods on a run, just after Woodbury had fallen, back when the prison was still strong. He didn’t want to bring her back, one more mouth to feed, one more person to keep an eye on, but she’d saved him from a rogue walker he hadn’t seen coming, shrugged like it was nothing, like she’d have done it for anyone. She’d offered him food and water, a rundown but relatively safe place to lay low for a few hours, she was kind. The words were tumbling from his lips before he’d really thought about them.

He’d avoided her for a good while, despite her efforts to befriend him, he’d lost so much already he didn’t want to let her in. But then he’d said something sarcastic, something snappy and prissy and she’d laughed; an honest to goodness belly laugh that had her head throwing back and him smiling from the side of his mouth despite himself and something deep in his chest felt warm.

So he’d loved her, quietly and from a distance. Safe. Until she’d kissed him.

He watches as she laughs, the same laugh, big and warm and real. It’s not aimed at him, and he hates it. After he’d run away from her, he worried he wouldn’t hear it again, but he’d been wrong, and this was worse. He taps his fingers against his thigh, trying to keep a scowl from his face. Failing. He thinks steam would come out of his ears if it were within the realm of possibility.

He’s always too late. Always takes too long to get comfortable. Always spends so long waiting that he misses out on the thing he wanted, and she’s not a thing but his blood is fucking boiling. At the man she’s talking to, at himself, at her too if he’s a little honest.

The man, who’s name he doesn’t know and now never wants to, is handsome. If you’re into that suburban, well groomed, boring kind of thing. He has a punchable face. Daryl is not allowed to punch people unless its necessary anymore, Rick has told him that explicitly but surely flirting with his…flirting with the woman he’s in lo…flirting with her makes it necessary.

He can’t stand the thought that he might not be the last person to kiss her lips. He can’t stand looking any longer, but he doesn’t mean for his knife to clatter loudly on the floor as he tries to flee. He doesn’t dare turn around, but he’d be able to tell she was looking at him even in pitch black. Knows she’s watching the solid, tense set of his shoulders as he retreats.

-

She startles at the sight of him sitting on her porch, quickly schooling her face into the nonchalance she’s been practicing around him since they arrived. It was easy enough, on the road, to pretend he hadn’t hurt her. They were so busy trying to survive, so busy being busy that she could avoid an inevitable conversation where she’d had to apologise for getting their wires crossed.

But since they’ve been behind the walls of Alexandria? She can’t stop herself from searching him out, finding excuses to be near him, trying to act like they were back at the prison. Friends. She can do friends. She has been absolutely nailing being just friends, as long as she can ignore the tightness in her chest and the way she feels like she’s going to cry every time she walks away. Friends.

She flips the knife in her hand with ease, shielding his hand from the blade as she passes it back to him. He nods his thanks as he squints up at her.

“What crawled up your ass tonight?” She asks, but there’s a teasing smile on her face as leans against the railing to her house. The porch light is dim, warm golden yellow illuminating them. Daryl hasn’t been one for a lot of words in a long time, but he intends to bat the question away, distract her with something funny, something acerbic but good natured. Friendly, he can do friendly. He can’t, could barely do it on the road after everything happened. Now though, when she’s showered and brushed her hair and dressed up, lit up by a damn porch light? He doesn’t stand a chance.

“Dun’ kiss him”

“What the fuck?”

Fists clenching to calm himself down, unfurling them when he feels more grounded, he looks up at her again, daring to lock his eyes onto hers.

“Ya like him…tha’ guy?” He tries to keep his voice steady, hopes she doesn’t understand he’s begging her to say no, begging for her to give him a chance, but how many can one man have?

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Dun’ kiss him, please” He asks again, with a shake of his head, knocking his hair in front of his eyes as the ground in front of him becomes the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. She sighs quietly, but the sound reverberates in his brain, he can hear the disappointment that weighs it down, the disappointment he’d hoped to avoid by avoiding talking about this thing between them entirely.

“I’m not having this conversation with you on the porch” She pushes herself off the railing, turning to open the front floor. She means for him to leave but he follows her inside, tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh as he closes the door behind him. Every part of his body is telling him to run.

“I know I ain’t got no right t’ ask”

“No, you don’t. Why are you asking?”

“‘cause I can’t stand it”

“Why do you care?”

“’cause ya shouldn’t be wit’ him!”

“Who should I be with then, Daryl? Huh?” He doesn’t respond, not that she expects him to, head hanging low toward the ground “You have no answer, because it’s not you, is it? You didn’t want me!”

“I didn’t-what?”

He’d tried to make it obvious, had given her extra food, had nudged her shoulder with his, had talked to her more than anyone else. But she’d tried to kiss him and he’d fled, had retreated safely back into the comfort of his walls. Then he’d come back. He’d kissed her and again he’d fled. Daryl Dixon is the human embodiment of emotional whiplash. He knows he’s not easy, but he thought at least he’d been clear, he can’t imagine the way he looks at her has ever been subtle.

“I did want ya”

Her mind thinks over the weeks he’s been standoffish, the time he’s spent avoiding her touches, thinks back the first week they’d arrived here and he’s barely spoken a word, all the while watching her with an intensity that would have been uncomfortable if she hadn’t wanted his attention.

“I can’t do this, you can’t play with my head because you’re jealous all of a sudden”

“Ain’t jealous” He argues, knowing they both know he’s lying, but he still, even now, won’t let himself be vulnerable. “I know I fucked up, ‘kay? I know, but I’m ‘ere now!”

He snarls, frustrated and bordering on vicious, practically diving towards her as his hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise. He smashes his lips against hers, unpractised and clumsily before his brain catches up and he goes to pull away. Her response is so fast he doesn’t get a chance, dragging him back in as his brain shuts down.

The kiss is hard, angry and fast, all hip bones pressing into hip bones and teeth clacking against teeth. It’s not the romantic, affectionate start she was hoping for. It’s not the gentle steady and slow he was. She’s angry, he is too she can feel it in his body as he presses it against her.

The room spins, air thick and foggy with months’ worth of frustration, tension so thick it could be cut, it’s only when he swallows a heady, deep moan from her that he realises he needs more. Tongue sweeping into her mouth he grips the fabric of her skirt in his hand, bunching it up until he can reach an insistent, rough calloused hand inside her underwear, ripping his lips away from hers to heave a breath in. She’s soaked, dripping around his fingers and he’ll have time to be absolutely fucking floored by that when he recounts this later. His forehead sticks to hers as she moans.

It’s not that he hasn’t had trysts before, it’s just that they were short and unimportant, he’s barely been confident enough to use his hands. He wants to touch her in the right way, wants to know what he’s doing but she’s snaking a hand into his trousers and wrapping her fingers around his cock so thinking isn’t the top of his priorities right now.

It feels incredible, and in the vague recess of his brain he thinks he should have done this at a pace he'd be more comfortable with but he hasn’t done this in years, and barely successfully then so its not long before he comes all over her hand, whining as his head dips down to pant heavily against her collarbone. His fingers still, embarrassed and suddenly full of crippling self-doubt. She knows he’s going to remove them about a second before he does.

A thud echoes through the suddenly too big room as she tips her head back to hit the wall behind her.

“You leaving?” She lets out an incredulous laugh, hurt, betrayed, surprisingly unsurprised. The zip on his trousers seems louder than anything she’d yelled at him less than an hour before. It feels like an eternity before she lowers her head to look at him, doesn’t bother to mask the absolute disappointment on her features.

“I-uh-yeah-I”

She can practically see the walls slamming back up around him, the walls she’s been watching for weeks. A tear rolls down her cheek as he turns away from her, heading towards the front door.

“You don’t get another chance with me, Daryl” the finality in her voice makes him pause, hand on the doorknob. She sighs, hating that she’s about to give him the grace she is “You need to make up your mind, because I’m not waiting for you, not again. If you’re not certain by tomorrow you need to leave me alone”

The shaky nod from him is so small its almost imperceptible.

-

She’s not expecting the knock on her door as soon as the sun is up, really she isn’t. The whole night has been sleepless and filled to the brim with dread, knowing for sure that he wants her but fully believing he will never be able to let himself have her. She isn’t unaware of Daryl’s tendency to self-destruct. Maybe this is it, she thinks, maybe he values her enough as a friend if nothing else, to tell her face to face, but he’d never been able to before and the tiniest hint of hope lights her up as she treads carefully down the stairs.

Daryl stands there with a small, nervous but hopeful smile on his face. The hope hasn’t missed him, either. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, so out of his depth he might as well be drowning, but the knowledge that she wants this too means he’d rather fumble his way through this with her than do well without her.

“I’m a’ idiot”

“Yes you are” She laughs, setting him alight on the inside. The laugh that started al of this, almost. Doubt underneath her voice is the thing that finally settles it for him, makes him pull her towards him, gentle this time, the way he’d wanted. He’ll never let her doubt his feelings even when he doubts himself.

“I always wanted ya” he murmurs against her lips before closing the distance.

“You’re not going to run away again?”

“Ain’t runnin’, ain’t ever runnin’ again”

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Indefinite hiatus

I was toying with writing up a long post about what running this blog has meant to me over the years and why I'm stepping away for the foreseeable future, but that feels too dramatic for what's really just me saying "I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year". So, I'll just say I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year.

Okay, actually I have a bunch more to say, but it'll be under the cut.

Politics sucks. And paying attention to it, even in the reduced way I've been paying attention to it over the last few years, is hard. You end up spending so much of your supposedly free time thinking about things you can't change, getting mad about things you can't change, and getting depressed when the people who can change things just keep going in the wrong direction. Even when good things happen, it's just a matter of a few days before something bad happens once again. And vice versa. It's an endless cycle of hope, despair, resignation. Rinse and repeat, and triple speed that cycle during an election year. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of spending every other year worried about what's going to happen on one day in November. I'm tired of hearing a piece of news and automatically composing a post about it or running through 20 different responses I might give to asks I might get about it in my head.

Everyone I know who doesn't pay attention to politics (or at least doesn't run a social media page dedicated to it) seems to enjoy their live a lot more than I currently do. Which sounds way more dramatic than what's actually going on, which is mainly that I want to get to a place where I just don't care. I want the world and its problems to flow off my back instead of weighing it down. I want to stop thinking about what people on the internet might say about something I haven't even posted yet. And that can't happen while I'm tied to this blog. So I'll be staying away from it for at least the rest of the year.

I did have a good time with this blog. I've met a bunch of really awesome people, some who are sadly no longer with us (RIP Blue), and some who I think will carry on the "fight" way better than I ever did. This isn't an admission of defeat, or pessimism about the election. Even if Trump wins, and I truly think he will if we have a fair election, I still won't be back this year. But I'll still vote and I'll still be proud that my silly little tumblr blog had an impact on some people's lives. I may not have the reach of a Tucker Carlson or a Glenn Beck, but I've gotten a lot of messages from people who said they changed their minds about an issue, or even politics in general, because of things I said, and that counts for something. If you guys take anything away from me, I want it to be this: Even the smallest impact matters. It doesn't matter if you only ever reach one person and then stop, reaching that one person is enough. Changing one vote is enough. Changing one mind is enough.

To all my mutuals, you guys are the best. I truly hope you have wonderful lives and I'm sad I won't get to see your names on my dash everyday anymore. To anyone I've ever followed or reblogged from, I couldn't have had a blog without you, so thank you. Yes, even the leftiod psychos, XD. To everyone else, find your own balance and never give into despair and never listen to people who tell you not to try. Even a failed effort is still more meaningful than sitting back and mocking people for trying to improve even the smallest thing about themselves or the world around them.

I won't be logging back in after I post this, so any messages or asks you send, I won't see. I'll still be active (or as active as I ever am) in my discord, so feel free to join there if you want to. It should still be my pinned post, but if it isn't, I'll edit this with a new invite link.

And that's all I've got to say for now.

[bloomyeu]

peach eyes

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in which chan and you struggle to convey the love you have for each other

word count: 1.7k

warnings: angst? fluff? comfort? :) not edited

a/n: channie is so soft i luv him. fic is based off peach eyes by wave 2 earth

masterlist | requests

He knew he loved you.

He really did, but at times he felt like it was never conveyed. The constant hours at the studio, the time away on tour, on a plane, at a showcase, hours that werent spent with you. He felt bad, when was the last time he kissed you? 3 weeks ago? Maybe 4?

Maybe its time he lets you go. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You knew you loved him.

Yes he was always busy, yes he wasn't home, but with him you were complete and that was that mattered. No matter how much time was spent apart.

Maybe its time you let him know you love him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Its been a few weeks since chan had last been home, and with the two weeks coming up to it, you could only think of how you could surprise him to make him feel the love you have for him. To hug and kiss him without anything holding you back.

He was supposed to be back at around 6pm. So you made everything he loved. A home cooked meal of jjajangmyeon, bobs burger on the tv, christmas candle lit, fuzzy blanket ready on the couch, and cuddles. 

The plan was to tell him how you felt as soon as you both finished dinner, although things don't always go exactly as planned. 

hey ynnie, flight got delayed :[ have no idea what time ill be home we also have a team dinner as soon as we land so dont wait up for me! im sorry baby, i rlly wanted to see u

hii channie awe thats sucks :/ i hope u have fun tnt and land safely!! will u still come tnt or r u gna stay at the dorms?

ur crazy i need to see u babe ofc ill be home ill jst be late

ok!!! ill be waiting <3

And with that dinner was put back in the fridge, candles were blown out, love confessions burned on your tongue, and tears were falling as you showered. 

You knew it wasn't his fault, he didn't even know. But it still hurt. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

He felt so bad.

All he wanted to do was come home and be in your arms, and yet the flight got delayed so he’d be back at around 9pm and had a dinner/team meeting/debrief as soon as he landed. Could it not wait till tomorrow?

He knew you were waiting for him, wanting to spend a day with him before the both of you are sprung back to work.

But life is unfair is it not?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

It was around 1am when chan unlocked the front door of your(shared) apartment. 

The house was quiet, but he could hear Lorelei Gilmore talking about Chilton and whatnot.

“Ynnie, I’m home,” he whispered into the still apartment.

Walking into the kitchen, he noticed the food you’d prepared, and it made his heart swell. The jjajangmyeon, perfectly plated and covered with plastic wrap to keep it warm, the careful presentation that showed how much thought you’d put into making his favorite meal. You even remembered to set out his favorite pair of chopsticks—the ones you’d bought together during a trip to Japan.

The effort, the care, the love you’d put into this simple act of cooking for him—despite the long hours and despite knowing he might not even make it home in time to enjoy it—it all hit him like a wave. You still did these things for him, even when he felt he didn’t deserve it.

He could almost see you in the kitchen, humming softly to yourself as you cooked, imagining the smile on your face when you thought about how happy he’d be to come home to a meal made by you. The image was so vivid, so tender, that it made his chest tighten with emotion. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, but it was impossible not to feel overwhelmed by the depth of your love and how much he missed these moments with you.

He walked out of the kitchen before the tears could spill, hoping to pull himself together, but then he saw you on the couch.

You were wearing his shirt, the one that was a little too big on you but somehow looked perfect, hanging off your frame in that effortlessly beautiful way only you could manage. The fuzzy white blanket was wrapped snugly around you, keeping you warm as you slept. Your mouth was slightly agape, soft snores leaving your lips, and your hair was slightly tousled, as if you’d fallen asleep waiting for him.

He knew you’d tried to wait for him, and he’d never felt so guilty.

You never complained about the hours he worked, you never argued when he said “10 more minutes” at the studio—you were so good to him.

And yet he felt he treated you like crap.

And that realization only made him let out a choked sob.

He sank to his knees beside the couch, his hand reaching out to touch your face gently. You stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. Chan watched you sleep, his heart heavy with guilt and love. He wished he could turn back time, be there for you more, show you how much you meant to him.

He sat there for a while, just watching you sleep. The room was dim, the only light coming from the TV playing Gilmore Girls on low volume. The soft glow cast shadows on the walls, creating a peaceful, almost magical atmosphere. Chan took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. He knew he needed to be strong for you, to make things right. To treat you better.

Eventually, he got up and went to the bedroom. He changed into comfortable clothes and grabbed a spare blanket. He returned to the living room, covering you with the extra blanket before settling down on the floor next to the couch. He didn’t want to disturb you by trying to fit on the couch with you, but he wanted to be close.

As he layed there, he thought about all the times he’d missed, all the moments he should have been there for. He remembered the first time he met you, how your smile had lit up the room. He thought about all the little things you did for him, the way you always made him feel loved even when he was far away.

He made a silent promise to himself that he would do better. He would make more time for you, show you how much he loved you. He wouldn’t let his career come between you two anymore. He closed his eyes, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day, that he could start making things right.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Morning came, and you woke up to the smell of coffee. You blinked a few times, realizing you were still on the couch. The TV was off, and the apartment was filled with the soft morning light. You sat up, stretching and rubbing your eyes.

That’s when you saw Chan in the kitchen, making breakfast. He looked up and smiled when he saw you awake.

“Good morning, ynnie” he said softly.

“Hiii channie, good morning. How was the flight” you replied, your voice still groggy from sleep.

He walked over to you, holding a cup of coffee. “It was ok. made you some coffee.”

You took the cup from him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thank you.”

He sat down next to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and guilt. “I’m sorry about last night. I really wanted to be here with you.”

You shook your head, placing a hand on his. “It’s okay, it wasn't your fault. I know you’re busy. I just miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I wish i was here more, with you. I want to be here for you more.”

You smiled, tears forming in your eyes. “I’d like that.”

He leaned in, kissing you softly. a kiss filled with love and promise, a vow to be better. You kissed him back, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but you were willing to work through it together.

The two of you spent the morning talking, about anything and everything. It felt like you both were in your own bubble, just the two of you without any distractions. Chan told you about his tour, the places he’d seen, the experiences he’d had. You told him about your days, the little things that made you smile, the moments you wished he’d been there for.

As the day went on, you realized how much you’d missed these moments. The simple act of being together, sharing your lives. It was something you never wanted to take for granted again. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Over the next few weeks, things began to change. Chan made a conscious effort to be more present, to spend more time with you. He still had his responsibilities, his career, but he found a balance. He made sure to call you every day, even if it was just for a few minutes. He made time for date nights, for weekends away, for the little things that made your relationship special.

You could see the difference in him, the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel. The love was always there, but now it was more tangible, more real. You felt closer to him than ever before, and it made you realize how strong your love was.

as you were both sitting on the couch together, watching a movie, Chan turned to you, his eyes filled with emotion.

“Ynnie you know i love you right? you mean the world to me. Youre like my sunlight”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love. “I love you too, Channie, so much. With you I can do anything, were meant to be”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Always,” he whispered.

And in that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges came your way, you would face them together. Your love was strong, and it would endure.

fin.

masterlist | requests

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 16)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 2000

A/N: knock, knock, anyone still here? We're back baby! Let's continue this emotional rollercoaster.

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 16, Next Chapter

The truth is you weren't sure if setting such strong boundaries between yourself and Remus was a good idea, you knew in your words you shut off any opportunity for dates but at least you stopped arguing. It was almost as if removing pressure and expectations relaxed you both, a bit more excitement showed up as you now didn't know when you would spend time together. This increased the tension during your tutoring and when you bumped into each other in the hallway. If you wanted to see Remus you would go and knock on his office door and usually he would be in, but if he wanted to see you he had to put in more effort, he would usually find you using his Marauders Map, and he'd "casually" bump into you and inform you that he needed to discuss an essay with you.

The first week after your discussion was quite drastic you only saw each other two evenings out of the week, Remus only waited for you to show up but by the second week he was initiating the invites too. Your tutoring days turned into default Remus days as you chose to stay after your lesson was complete, it all felt very healthy and balanced. Neither of you owed each other anything and in a way you finally fell into the pattern Remus always wanted of not being in love just being together. However what you didn't know is Remus ached the past just like you did, you both didn't know what to do with your evenings anymore hoping the other would speak out and initiate an evenings together. Yes you did spend more time with your friends you began building friendships with more fellow students like Oliver Wood for example but the emptiness and longing remained and only disappeared as soon as you were back with Remus. On Friday you decided to go visit Remus's office with a gift that your parents sent you for your "friends" birthday upon your request. You knocked on his door only to find him in his usual position, he was hunched over his desk writing, his hands slightly stained from the ink of his quill.

"Marking or just for fun Professor?" You asked as you entered with a light nod and he looked up at you with a warm smile.

"For mental clarity. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He collected all the parchment and put it back in his desk drawer as you sat down opposite. He didn't stand up to embrace you as he was recently taking a more reserved approach towards your relations.

"I've got you a gift." You said with a smile revealing a small present wrapped in brown paper and tied with a tweed string.

"Thank you but how come?" He looked confused as he stood up and came to sit besides you.

"Your birthday, I know it's a bit late but you didn't let me know your birthday in advance so next year it'll be on time."

"Oh you think they'll be a next year?" He said shyly.

"Well no matter how close you are to a friend at least birthday wishes are always in order don't you think?" You asked and he nodded.

"You really didn't have to, you spend too much money on me." He said holding the gift in his hands but not opening it.

"Just open it." You said rolling your eyes and he followed your instructions opening it slowly, attempting not to rip anything. He pulled out a hardback penguin classics editions of Blake's Songs of innocence and of experience. "To help with the moral battles going on inside your head."

"How utterly topical, thank you dear, it's absolutely beautiful." He said with a warm smile going in to kiss you at the end of his sentence you welcomed the kiss as it felt like how he kissed you before the argument happened. "However it was actually the proverbs of hell that I quoted to you."

"I know, innocent and experienced wouldn't say something so evil to me."

"You were the one who called it off not me." He said with a playful wink.

"All thanks to your verbs from hell Remus." You said throwing a sofa cushion at him jokingly and he laughed.

"So do we thank William Blake or do we hate him?" Remus asked.

"Well let's see what happens when I finish school than we'll know." You said moving to sit closer to Remus and resting your head on his shoulder he put down the book on the coffee table and put his arm around you.

"How's revision going?"

"It's going, I'm stressed and I feel like I can't focus it feels like the common room and library are so packed with people and no one is ever really that quiet and I feel like they're all so far ahead of me."

"Darling you are so much further ahead then most of them, trust me I mark their work. But if you want to come and study here again you can, even if I'm not here just use my office, if anyone knocks while you're in here you can just say you have detention or you can explain that I allowed you to work from here."

"Thank you, but it's okay. I'll let you know if I need it. For now I think I just need a break my head feels like it's on fire." You explained closing your eyes slowly.

"Walk with me?" He asked standing up and reaching out a hand, you nodded in return standing up with him. He picked up his blazer and locked his office as you both left. You began walking and talking not knowing where Remus was leading you but you quickly left the castle grounds and began walking in the direction of Hogsmeade.

"How do you feel about us now?" You asked quietly as soon as you left Hogwarts grounds.

"I think you did the best thing for us, something I didn't have the guts to do." He replied, hands in his pocket, eyes looking down at his feet.

"What do you mean?"

"You hit the breaks on us, something I couldn't get myself to do, but we both knew we should."

"I think I regret it." You admitted not looking at him but in this moment he looked at you with a hurt face. "Not you, not us, but slowing us down, I miss what we had already." You elaborated.

"We still have it, just more controlled." His voice was very controlled like each word was thought out.

"But it's not the same, it's like I'm constantly reaching to stroke your hair and then pulling away as I know that's too much for what we currently are. I just want to skip to the end of the year and click play, I don't like this time on pause thing."

"Don't waste these last few months, when you leave you'll realise how much you miss it. These will be some of your best years. The freedom almost disappears, the friends move away and money suddenly becomes a problem." He explained and you nodded.

"I don't even know what I'll do next year." You admitted.

"Do you want my advice or just for me to listen?"

"Advice." You said appreciating he asked.

"I think you should teach muggle studies."

"Where?"

"Here at Hogwarts." He said enthusiastically.

"Here with you?" You asked.

"Not necessarily here with me, just here in the best school in the country. Hogwarts needs someone as passionate as you. You can help make young witches and wizards understand the muggle world, you can introduce them to music, literature. You can spend all day talking about things you love."

"I never thought of it that way." You admitted.

"It's just a thought, I think you'd make a great teacher. Plus in what other job can you geek out about Bowie to a room full of people and call it work?" He said enthusiastically.

"I don't know the first thing about teaching." You admitted.

"I'll teach you." He said casually.

"You just want to stay as my teacher forever and then we can never move on." You said with a small nervous laugh.

"Don't be stupid, then you'll be my peer and we'll have more freedom as to see where our lives go." He said.

"Won't it be just as taboo? We'll be back in limbo of not being able to date as we'll be working together and then we'll be waiting forever."

"No I don't think so, the problem is right now you're young, you haven't experienced the world, I don't want to be the blockade. You need to be free to do whatever you want and when you are no longer my student we can talk and see what we are." He explained once again, it felt like you both had this conversation memorised.

"But," you began again and Remus sighed anticipating what you're about to say. "How does this constitute as freedom, if I want to date around I can't, not that I want to, but if I did we said we're exclusive, it's like this is a relationship with none of the feel good parts just the sex and longing." You whispered bits just incase anyone was around.

"You asked for this Y/N." Remus emphasised.

"I don't think I did, I asked for more and I settled for this." You explained realising all you ever wanted was more dates but somehow your argument that day led to you asking for less everything, less feelings, less love and less time.

"Dear, have you read The mill on the floss by George Elliot? In it Phillip says "It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we're thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good and we must hunger after them. How can we ever be satisfied without them until our feelings are deadened?"

"I think that feels like an instinct I share." You said not understanding how a quote about seeking love is relevant when he's saying not to seek it.

"It's the romantic manifesto. There must be something more than this, something more intense. Something to let you out of the washing up and making your bed."

"Exactly." You said.

"Well it scares me to say I may have found it, the something more intense, but I don't want to mess it up, because if it exists it's the most beautiful thing I've ever stumbled across and I don't want to loose it by messing it up. Therefore let's let it take time and nourish in the feeling of longing for a little longer before we find comfort in it, let's not risk it before we are sure we can have it."

"I feel you're right but I don't want you to be."

"I don't want to be either." He said as he stood still and you looked puzzled at him as he looked around. "Coast is clear, aparate with me." He said and you grabbed on to him. You were in an alleyway in London you knew that immediately. First thing he did was crash his lips into yours, you kissed for an extended moment as it felt like finally you could, once he pulled away he grabbed your hand. "Where are we going?" You asked.

"To visit a friend, if you'd like?" He said as you turned the corner to see the familiar steps of 12 Grimauld place.

"Really, you aren't scared?" You asked.

"Terrified, but there's no meeting and no need to have a meeting therefore the only person home today will be Sirius and no one else should arrive especially who on earth would come on a Friday with no news, they don't like to hang out here." He explained as you approached the house.

"I'm so excited to find out everything about teenage Remus." You said and he laughed as he knocked on the door waiting for Sirius to open it.

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[isalisewrites]

A Deep Dive into JKR's Terrible, Amateur Writing - Part Two

Welcome to my ballsy series where I will prove to you, dear reader, that J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series and resident Twitter TERF, is actually a very, very poor writer.

And when I say ‘poor writer,’ I’m talking about her prose, her sentence structure, and her scenes. I am not going to discuss anything about the HP world nor the overall plot of the books. 

This is all about the nitty gritty in the craft of writing itself.

Part One Link.

Disclaimer for all readers of this series: 

I’m going to sound very confident in my posts where I work under the assumption I’m a better writer than JKR; because I am. My apologies if this rubs you the wrong way. You’re simply witnessing the culmination of over two and half decades of experience with the intensity from a neurodivergent who is hyperfocused on her special interest. I didn’t just learn how to create stories; I learned the craft of writing to a minutia of details.

I’m not a perfect writer. No one is. I’m not a talented writer either. I’m experienced and skilled through years of study and practice.

I don’t care about J.K. Rowling. At all.

If you’re triggered by the concept and fact that JKR is a terrible crafter of writing, then you might want to take a step back and self reflect on that personal issue.

I still very much love and adore Harry Potter; you’re still allowed to love Harry Potter.

This is not a series to bitch or bash. This isn’t a shitpost. This isn’t an attack on JKR, no matter the disgusting bullshit she spews forth on Twitter. However, my hope is people awaken to the fact that JKR isn’t the goddess of writing we’ve all been led to believe.

This is a place of study and learning, where the purpose is to help students gain critical thinking skills and writing analysis tools to become better in their craft.

And, sorry, one more disclaimer for this specific post: 

Fanfiction is written for fun and is posted for free. I put most of my effort into my main fanfic, Terrible, But Great. (Yes, I intend to update Moon Rite soon, too) However, I also have two fanfics that are cowritten with another author; thus, the style of Shall I Stay and Badger Prey are understandably different. I spend three to four times the hours to edit a chapter versus drafting it. My process for fanfiction: I draft. I do one expansion edit. I do one proofread edit. I post.

However, if I were to publish a novel where people are expected to drop money on said book, my work flow would be vastly more extensive. To be clear, I’d do all of the following myself. I would not outsource. My process for published novels: I would draft. I would do three to four expansion edits. I would do two to three cutting edits. I would do three proofread edits. 

See the difference?

Because I don’t go through a cutting edit for my fanfiction, I’ll often come back later and see things I think are weak. I’m constantly seeing where I can tighten my work. There’s always room for improvement.

Remember: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is a paperback book that costs $10. My fanfics are free. If I, someone who writes for free and puts what she considers the bare minimum of effort into them, have a higher standard in the quality of my writing than a paid traditionally published novelist, there’s a problem here. 

All right, with that nonsense out of the way, buckle up, my writing friends. Grab a snack. Hydrate. Remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. Let’s begin.

Class is in session.

In this post, we’re going to discuss these five pages from HP5 and dissect one paragraph and a line from page 731. All dialogue is highlighted in blue.

(My favorite book in the series, btw. I fucking love fifth year the most. JKR did a damn good job with Umbridge.)

Since a certain anon lacked the skill to comprehend the difference between too much dialogue and stories driven by a high saturation of dialogue, let's go into further depth about dialogue.

What did I mean last week when I said: "Too much fucking dialogue!"

Today’s lesson will focus on the overall issue in JKR’s dialogue and in the prose surrounding those dialogue lines.

And since, apparently, I “lack the self awareness” to know most of my fics are “oversaturated with dialogue,” I’m going to use weaker examples of my own writing. Chapter 24 of TBG is heavily driven by dialogue with twenty-one named characters to juggle, something that's very difficult for me to manage. Though the chapter is lovely, I do feel it's some of my weaker work. In the end, I just didn’t have the energy to edit it a second time nor go through cutting edit.

Here are three different pages (some connected, some not) from Chapter 24 of Terrible, But Great. All dialogue is highlighted in blue.

You can already see the difference, I'm sure.

So, what’s the difference between a scene that has 'too much fucking dialogue' versus a scene that is highly saturated with dialogue?

Because there is one.

Let's set the scene for HP5. In the middle of an OWL exam, Harry received a vision from Voldemort, showing him that Sirius has been captured. He's being tortured to get something from a shelf, but Sirius refuses. Harry believes the vision is real. He tells Ron and Hermione, then asks for their advice on how to rescue Sirius. Ron and Hermione are both like, pardon, wtf, sir? (As they should be.)

We have five pages of this fight between them. These five pages are mostly dialogue with very little else surrounding it.

Also, note the final page where it has the worst sins of adverb usage. That page is what triggered me to begin writing this series in the first place, btw.

There's too much dialogue here. There's no description. I'm being told stuff, but I'm not being shown anything. There are no emotional anchors to Harry either. The more I reread this scene, the more I realized what was wrong.

There’s an emotional disconnect from Harry in the prose.

Do not misunderstand me: it is NOT to say that Harry isn’t emotional here. It's that the prose doesn’t grip me, the reader, by the chest and twist my heart with his overwhelming emotions. The prose doesn't prove anything, doesn't show me anything. This is an intense, terrifying moment for Harry. It should feel visceral. It should feel tangible. I should be able to taste his fear.

We also don’t get too much information about the emotional states of Ron and Hermione. We have hints, of course. But we can’t feel them. The emotions of the scene are dampened, muffled, dull even.

With an untrained eye, you might disagree. It's okay. You'll see what I mean soon.

Page 731 exact quote:

"I dunno how," said Harry. "But I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they're at the end of row ninety-seven...He's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there....He's torturing him....Says he'll end by killing him..." Harry found his voice shaking, as were his knees. He moved over to a desk and sat down on it, trying to master himself.

(Btw, punctuation issue: you do not use an ellipsis and a period together and there should be a space after the ellipsis.)

This is the only instance in the five pages where we get any information about Harry's physical state.

And it's written in such a weak 'telling' instead of 'showing' way, too.

How and where was his voice shaking? How are his knees shaking? Are they knocking together in a weird way that's kind of physically improbable? Or was it actually his legs were shaking? Isn't he leaning against the door? If his weight was resting against the door, then there'd be less shaking in his knees or legs because his knees would be locked to brace his body against the door. His arms and hands would be shaking, though.

How does Harry master himself? What does that look like? Slow breaths? Running a hand through his hair? Rubbing his face and eyes? How is Harry mastering himself? Is it mentally? Then, where are those mastering thoughts? What are they and why do those thoughts in particular help Harry 'master' himself?

What's Harry's tone as he talking about Voldemort threatening to kill Sirius? How is Harry feeling about this? Give me MORE!

The dialogue is presented to the reader in a bland, empty fashion. Harry is relating something to Ron and Hermione. I could switch the dialogue out with anything and it'd still make sense.

There is little surrounding the dialogue to anchor it.

So, let's rewrite this, shall we?

"I dunno how," said Harry, letting out a shaky breath. His hands clenched into fists against the door of the classroom. "But I know where—they're in a room in the Department of Mysteries that's filled with rows of shelves holding these... weird little glass balls. They're in row ninety-seven. Voldemort, he's—" Harry's voice broke. His breath caught in his throat. The memory of the vision returned full force into his mind, the image of Sirius on the floor at Voldemort's feet stark in his mind. He ducked his chin; his chest inhaled in a desperate breath and the edges of his eyes burned. He's torturing Sirius—I can't just wait around. I can't lose him. Harry looked up at Ron, whose face had grown pale, while Hermione stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. The strength in Harry's legs weakened. "He needs Sirius to get whatever it is he wants and he's—" Harry sucked in a gasp, his voice trembling like an autumn leaf in a thunderstorm. "—he's torturing Sirius... says he'll kill him in the end." His knees buckled. Harry stumbled to the nearest desk; Ron reached out with a steadying hand on Harry's upper arm and silent gratitude filled Harry's heart. With shaky arms, Harry lifted himself onto the desk to sit and twisted around to face Ron and Hermione. He licked his dry lips, rubbed his eyes with a hand, and took slow, deep breaths to master his fraying emotions.

The original canon text has 57 words of dialogue with a total of 83 words.

My rewritten version uses 56 words of dialogue with a total of 247 words.

I'm going to drill this concept into your heads, my lovely students: this is what I mean when I keep saying JKR's writing is both bloated and underwritten.

I only rewrote a single paragraph and its following line. The five pages I've provided are filled with this kind of empty dialogue.

So, what have I done here? Can you see the difference? Can you feel the difference?

Let's analyze what I focused on in this scene to show Harry's body language and his thoughts. I upped the physical effects on Harry's body. His fear causes his voice to break in the middle of explaining what's going on. He's terrified of losing Sirius, the only father figure he's ever known. Voldemort might take another parental figure from him. 

And now the prose reflects these feelings, not just in his thoughts, but also in how he speaks and reacts to what is around him. He is not just speaking at the reader.

Harry exists in his world. 

And you can feel it.

When he stumbles to the desk, Ron is there for him. Hermione reacting could also be added here. There is a lot that can be added to this scene, if one wanted to expand this further. 

Yes, what I've done has increased the word count, yet it strengthens this short moment—and I'd do this for the entire scene.

What I did to the scene is merely one version of its potential. It could be rewritten in a multitude of ways and go in various directions. I spent 10mins to 20mins on it. I haven't edited it or refined it.

Can you finally see what I mean now?

If you compare the highlighted pages of HP5 to the highlighted pages of Chp 24 of TBG, you can visually see the difference in the density of the dialogue. JKR is the one whose writing is oversaturated with dialogue. My writing will always be highly saturated with dialogue because my stories are character driven. I prefer stories like that. But I also need the dialogue to be interesting and engaging, where the character feels alive in their world.

When I say there's too much dialogue, this scene is such a good example of this because Harry, Ron, and Hermione are all over the place in their interactions with each other. Yes, you want your characters to sound realistic, but you're also the author curating an experience for the reader.

There's a balancing tightrope act between having realistic dialogue and unnecessary dialogue.

There's a thin line between showing too much and telling too little.

Lastly, if I were to improve the overall scene, I would center the focus on Harry's desperation to rescue Sirius. As Ron and Hermione try to talk him out of it, where Hermione delivers that iconic line of 'you have a people saving thing,' I'd have Harry explode with something like this:

"You don't know what's it like! You both have your parents—I-I don't... You'd feel the same as me if it were either of your parents being tortured by Voldemort, yeah? I can't lose him—I can't lose Sirius."

I'm not bothering with description around it right now. I just wanted to give the baseline dialogue to show you the theme I'd carry through this scene. It's all about Sirius. It's all about the fear of losing him. It's about showing the emotion of the character and making the reader feel that deeply.

And that's what matters the most.

All right then.

We have come to an end of Part Two in this series. We have discussed fives pages in JKR's Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. The pages in question are 731 - 735 should you wish to look it up and study the scene yourself.

And so, please do the world the greatest of favors and write better than J.K. Rowling. I promise, it's not that hard once you see the differences.

Until next time.

Isa

[sprinkler-ashes]

begin again // aaron hotchner x reader

begin again

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

description: in which there are five times that aaron hotchner restores your faith in love and one time where you restore his. inspired by begin again by taylor swift.

words: 6.1k

warnings: cursing, a touch of angst, hotch in a quarter zip and casual clothes (yes this requires a warning), fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, reader has an awful ex (gn pronouns for ex), mentions of violence and injuries

a/n: i’ve been working on this all throughout the week every night at like 3 am running on, at best, 4 hours of sleep so i’m very sorry if there are grammar/spelling errors – i will edit soon. also i fear i’ve been watching too much dharma & greg, and this was the product. enjoy!

i've been spending the last eight months

thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end

but on a wednesday in a cafe

i watched it begin again

One.

It was week one of your new job at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit when you knew with absolute certainty that as soon as you arrived back at the bureau, you were going to hand in your resignation.

You were sitting away from the rest of the team who all sat together, though a little cramped, and deep into discussion about something that you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to. They were talking normally as if everything they just witnessed over the last few days didn’t affect them.

You knew that you were new to this – it was your first week on the job. But you felt like you should be… happier than the way you currently felt. This was your dream job: one that you’ve spent years working towards. One that you gave everything up for, including your relationship.

However, it was starting to feel like it wasn’t worth it.

The team was very lovely. From the moment the case had begun, each one of them made an effort all throughout the trip to Missouri to make sure you were keeping up and doing okay. They’d even tried to get you to come over and chat with them when the flight started, but you lied and said you were tired.

Your head was leaning against the window, your eyes peering out to see nothing but blue skies and clouds. This was everything you’d ever wanted, so why did you feel the way you did?

A voice in the back of your head told you that your ex was right; you weren’t cut out for this. You were going to fail just like they always said you were going to – this was a mistake.

You couldn’t help but be on the verge of a breakdown with all the thoughts running through your head, but there was no way you could cry due to the presence of someone moving to sit in the seat in front of you. A part of you didn’t want to look up because you knew exactly who it was. You didn’t want to look him in the eyes, but, reluctantly, you did look up only seconds later.

BAU Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner was sitting in front of you with his usual gaze that made you feel slightly intimidated. He seemed to be good at everything he did – or at least everything you had seen him do. He was well-respected, a damn good profiler, and so put-together that it made you feel like a mess in comparison.

“Can I help you, sir?” You asked, attempting to mask the conflicted feelings in your voice.

He ignored your question. “You just finished your first case. I wanted to see how you were feeling. You and Reid really helped by figuring out the geographical profile.”

You should’ve known he would know. This was a plane full of profilers – they probably all knew.

“I’m good,” you lied with an attempted smile that never reached your eyes. “I’m glad we caught the guy; I’m just really exhausted.”

Aaron didn’t say anything as he obviously did not believe you with his eyes still watching you, presumably reading more about you in mere seconds than you even knew about yourself. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the chatter from the rest of the team filling the air.

“They’ve all been here for years,” he suddenly said. “It still affects them, but it gets easier.”

“I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” you told him, your voice cracking in the middle of your sentence. You shut your eyes, cutting off eye contact. You didn’t want to look at your boss after you basically just told him you can’t do your own job.

This is so embarrassing, you thought to yourself.

When you finally re-opened your eyes, Aaron was still watching you. He moved forward, crossing his arms and resting them on the table between the two of you. He was looking at you with what you almost would’ve called sympathy.

“You can do this,” he reassured you, making sure his voice couldn’t be heard by the rest of the team. “You wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t. It’ll get better.”

The sheer honesty in his voice caused unshed tears to form in your eyes. No one had given you the affirmation you so desperately needed in a long time – not even your ex, who often said more unkind things than kind.

“What if it doesn’t?” You asked, blinking hard to get rid of the tears that were threatening to fall.

“It will,” he said firmly, emphasizing his words. “Go home, rest, and come back for a new day tomorrow.” With that, he stood back up, straightened out the sleeves of his suit jacket, and looked at you one last time before walking back over to where he was originally sitting. “You did very well this week.”

Aaron said everything with so much sincerity that for the first time in a while, you felt a little bit better.

—

Two.

You didn’t end up quitting.

It had been a little over a month since you almost quit your job after the first week. Things still weren’t perfect, but you had gotten more used to being a profiler and had gotten to the point where going to work didn’t feel like such a chore.

You were now in a small North Dakota town on a case. It was the second week of December, and the heat was out at the inn you were staying at, which all of you had, unfortunately, found out when arriving back from the police department.

“I probably know the answer to this, but is there any way we could go somewhere else?” JJ asked as she stood by the door. “It’s freezing, Hotch.”

“Actually, in order for it to be freezing, it would need to be–”

“Reid, not now,” Derek cut him off.

Aaron looked up from the folder he was reading. “We can’t go anywhere else. This is the only place to stay in town, and it’s the only place that was approved and booked.”

“They said they will probably have it going again in under an hour. Maintenance is working on it now,” Rossi announced as he entered the room, stepping past JJ. “They apologized for the inconvenience.”

It was eleven at night, and everyone was in clothes they were sleeping in except for Aaron who still wore his suit, minus the tie and jacket. You didn’t know how he wasn’t freezing in only his white dress shirt. The rooms at the inn were relatively tiny, but the team had all managed to cram into Aaron’s room, who got one to himself this time. They’d all flocked to his room in an attempt to figure out if staying somewhere else was possible, except for you, who had already been there.

You were sitting on the couch in the room next to Aaron as you attempted to help him figure out how this particular unsub was kidnapping his victims. The couch was particularly small, leaving no room between you and him. The entire side of your thigh was pressed against his, warmth radiating off of him despite the cold room.

Aaron sighed, laying down the folder and running a hand across his temple. “I’m sorry, but it’s out of my hands. Everyone, go back to bed. Hopefully the heat will be back on soon.”

“You coming?” Emily, your roommate for the duration of time you would be in North Dakota, asked as everyone filed out of the room.

You shook your head. “I’ll be there soon. I’m going to look over this one last time and see if there’s anything I missed.”

Emily told the both of you goodnight and left the room, leaving only you and Aaron still sitting together.

He made you very nervous. 

Aaron was older, extremely accomplished, more experienced in the job, and working with him alone was nerve-wracking. You’d proven yourself immensely in the short amount of time you had been a member of the BAU. Still – he was wonderful at everything. The idea of being wrong around him was terrifying.

As you continued to look through everything laid out in front of you, you couldn’t focus. It was so cold to the point where you couldn’t feel the tip of your nose anymore, and you were slightly shivering, crossing your arms in an attempt to warm up a little.

“Looks like I should’ve brought a winter coat to sleep in,” you attempted to joke.

The left corner of Aaron’s mouth tipped upward as he stood up and moved to the small closet. “It is pretty cold, isn’t it?”

Before you knew it, there was a brown blanket being draped across your shoulders.

It wasn’t very thick nor was it very comfortable. In fact, it felt a little scratchy to the touch as it brushed over your bare hands, but Aaron situated it until it was entirely wrapped around you while his body hovered over yours. You stopped breathing momentarily, your heart picking up its pace every time his hands scraped over your own arms. Even through your thick sweatshirt and the blanket, you could still feel his touch.

“Thanks,” you muttered. Your heart rate had gone back down to normal now that he was moving to sit again.

“I can’t have one of my agents going hypothermic,” he joked and gave you one of his rare smiles; the ones that were usually reserved for outside of work.

You weren’t blind – Aaron Hotchner was a gorgeous man, and you wouldn’t deny that just the scent of his very expensive cologne alone was enough to make you feel slightly dizzy.

However, that's all you thought. He was your boss, and you were dealing with a breakup that was still laying heavy on your heart and constantly consumed your thoughts.

But even after the heat started working only half an hour later, you didn’t remove the blanket and temporarily forgot about the person who broke your heart while you worked next to him.

—

Three.

It was six months into your job when you found yourself having one of the worst days ever.

You’d woken up late and to a text from a friend letting you know that the ex you’d been getting over for half a year was now social-media-official with the person they told you not to worry about, you spilled coffee all over your car and your white top resulting in you being even later for work as you had to go back to your apartment and change.

You were a stumbling mess when you finally made it to the conference room for the meeting that you were six minutes late for. All eyes were focused on you as you mumbled apologies and sat down while trying to listen to Aaron’s voice. It was some housekeeping things and maybe you should’ve listened, but your head was elsewhere.

The rest of the day did not go well either. Halfway through the day, you had managed to screw up the fax machine, trip over your own shoes, and give yourself not one but two paper cuts. All of it sounded like minor things – a paper cut shouldn’t have set you off so badly, but it really did.

By the end of the day, you wouldn’t have minded if the ground opened up and swallowed you whole. Once you did one more thing, you would finally be able to go home.

“Come in.”

Aaron’s office was a place that you had grown to not fear so much. In the beginning of your job, every time you had to go in, it almost felt like you were in middle school walking into the principal’s office as he sat there at his desk with a stoic stare and hardly any emotion in his voice.

“I got your email about needing to speak with me,” you told him, coming inside and shutting the door behind you. “What did you need?”

He looked up at you as you moved closer to his desk. “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

You frowned. “I thought you said in the email that you needed to speak with me about something important?”

Aaron nodded as if it was no big deal. “You’ve been acting off all day. How you feel is an important thing – even if you think it isn’t. So, are you okay?”

Your heart broke at his kindness. He was always nice to you, maybe nicer than he should’ve been, but calling you into his office just to make sure you were okay after a bad day made you wonder why no one else had ever cared about your feelings like this.

“I’m okay,” you told him. “It’s just been a terrible day.”

Still sitting at his desk with his full attention on you, Aaron asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You wouldn't lie – you did think about his proposal for a moment. There weren't many people for you to talk to. You had friends, but not many in Quantico other than your co-workers. You’d moved alone without knowing anyone, and you worked so much that there was rarely time for you to go out and meet new people.

But Aaron was a busy man. He was probably just offering to be polite – there was no way he cared that much to hear about your miniscule problems when his job was as hectic and busy as it was.

“No, Hotch, I don’t want to keep you here any longer–”

He cut you off. “I’m already here; it doesn’t matter. You can talk to me. I’ve been rather concerned about you.”

At that moment, you couldn’t come up with an excuse as to why the idea of him thinking about you was enough to make your heart flutter.

“It’s… it’s stupid,” you started, taking a seat in the chair in front of his desk. “I had a bad breakup right before I moved to Quantico. My ex didn't really care when I went to the Academy, but they exploded when I told them how I finally got this job. It was constant fighting before they gave me an ultimatum: them or taking the job.”

“And you chose the job?”

You laughed, feeling a little pathetic. “No, at first, I didn’t. They really got it stuck in my head that I wasn’t good enough to do this. I was going to turn it down and stay, but I changed my mind last minute. I found out this morning they’re now with someone else. Then, I was late, I fucked up the fax machine, and I got a couple paper cuts. It’s nothing, really – it was just a bad day.”

Aaron moved around in his seat, leaning back a little and crossing his arms. “It isn’t nothing if it bothers you.”

“I didn’t know you were a therapist,” you tried to joke, squirming awkwardly in your seat. You were already feeling vulnerable and the way he was looking at you wasn’t helping.

“Only part-time,” he said. “Don’t tell anyone – someone may think I have emotions.”

His face was completely stoic when he said it, but as soon as you started to laugh, he joined in.

“Really, though, I’m okay – just exhausted. I think the universe just hates me right now.” You stood up to leave. “I want to beat the rush hour traffic, so I should head out, but thanks for checking on me.”

He nodded in acknowledgement and you were on your way out while thinking the interaction was over, when he called out your name.

You stopped, hand still grasping the door you were about to open. “Yeah?”

“It’s their loss.”

A frown appeared on your face. “What do you mean?”

“Your ex,” he explained. “You shouldn’t lose sleep over someone who doesn’t know how lovely you are.”

Lovely.

You’d been called a lot of things in your life, probably even some adjectives better than lovely, but the way it just rolled out of Aaron’s mouth as if it was a casual, every-day-like occurrence made you feel warm.

Aaron Hotchner thought you were lovely and knowing that kept a smile on your face for days after while the wounds that had been given to you by someone else slowly healed.

—

Four.

After a year of working with the BAU, you ended up with your first unsub-related injury.

You thought going to the hospital was pointless because you truly felt fine, but both Derek and JJ argued relentlessly for you to go due to the nasty gash on your head. Unfortunately, you were outnumbered and sent to the hospital for an evaluation after the unsub you were after thought it was okay to slam you on the ground a little too hard, resulting in a blow to your head when you went down and hit the concrete.

JJ rode with you to the hospital in the ambulance that you, very much, did not think was necessary. After seeing a doctor, it was determined that you had a concussion. With a thick bandage on your wound and a drive home from JJ who gave you strict rules on taking care of yourself while you healed like the mother she was, you were finally alone in the comfort of your apartment after a long day spent in Manassas – the location of the latest case.

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, you were starting to feel the symptoms and the sound of knocking on your door felt like nails being drilled into your head.

However, the person standing on the other side when you opened the door made your head spin faster than the concussion did.

Aaron was standing on the other side of the door, one hand holding a brown paper bag with a look of worry on his face. He was dressed casually in a navy blue sweatshirt and jeans, nose slightly red from where he had walked through the cold November air to get inside your apartment building.

In other words, he looked very good. It was hard to not grab and kiss him.

You’d developed somewhat of an attraction for your boss since that fateful day in his office. Not that you hadn’t been attracted to him before, but it now felt more like a serious affection and not some small crush – the first time you felt this way about anyone in a long time.

“Hi,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to another upon seeing you. “How are you?” He paused after his eyes glanced at the very obvious bandage on your forehead. “Wait, I don’t think that’s an appropriate question right now. I’m sorry.”

You giggled despite the throbbing in your temple, moving to let him into your apartment. “I’m as good as I can be right now. Come on in.”

He walked into your apartment, following you into the kitchen after you shut the door and locked it. Aaron had only been to your apartment once after giving you a ride home from work, but this was the first time he’d ever been inside.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” He asked while you got a glass of water.

You nodded slightly, careful to cause any more pain. “Probably, but I can’t get any rest until my medicine kicks in and my head doesn’t feel like it’s about to bust.”

Aaron winced. “I tried to come to the hospital, but JJ had already taken you home by the time I got there, so I came here. I apologize for coming unannounced and so late, but I had to make sure you were okay.”

“You do that a lot,” you told him, leaning against one of the counters in the kitchen. “Making sure I’m okay.”

“I happen to care about you a lot.”

Hiding your smile behind the glass of water, you took a sip before focusing your attention back on the bag he brought with him. “What’s in the bag?”

It seemed as though he had forgotten he was still holding something. He raised it up and held it out to you, an almost-shy look dancing across his face that you’d never seen before on him. “I, um, made a stop at the store for you on my way over. It’s just over-the-counter medicine, extra bandages, and a couple snacks that I know you like. I figured it might help you out since you can’t drive for the next two days.”

You couldn’t stop the grin that appeared on your face. It was almost as if every time you thought Aaron couldn’t get any more perfect, he would prove you wrong.

He continued as he sat the bag down on the counter next to you. “I also wanted to tell you that Strauss said take all the time you need to recover.”

You gave him a quizzical look. “She did?”

There was only silence between the two of you as you looked at each other until he shrugged. “Well, I told her that you’re going to be taking all the time off that you need, and she didn’t really say anything so take all the time you need.”

“It’s just a concussion,” you told him. “I’ll be back to work soon.”

“A concussion is a serious thing,” Aaron said with a frown, not liking the way you brushed the injury off as nothing. “I’m glad you’re okay. Morgan said you hit the ground pretty hard before he cuffed the guy.”

You took another sip of your water before sitting it down. “I’m alive and well – Derek was just worried.”

As much as you were enjoying the feeling of talking with Aaron in your kitchen, the heaviness you felt in your eyes reminded you that it was nearly midnight, and you’d had a long day. The yawn that escaped your mouth didn’t go unnoticed.

“I should go and let you get some rest.”

You really didn’t want him to go. There weren't many other opportunities where you would get Aaron in your apartment like this. It felt oddly domestic, and you hated the fact that you loved it so much. But he was right – you did need the rest.

“Thank you again for stopping by,” you told him as the two of you walked the short distance back to the front door. “And for all the stuff you bought. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he said, his hand lingering on the door knob. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call.”

He was opening the door before you called out, “Wait,” your mind flooded with déjà vu from the time he stopped you on your way out of his office.

Aaron paused and turned to look back at you. His body hadn’t left the room yet, but the door was slightly ajar where he opened it. 

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you walked over to him and threw your arms around his broad torso engulfed in the softest sweatshirt you’d ever felt.

“Thank you,” you softly said. “Not just for tonight, but for, well, just caring about me.”

He didn’t waste a second reciprocating the hug as he wrapped his arms around you even tighter, careful not to get near the bandage on your forehead and further hurt you. He was like a human heater – warm, tall, and you fit perfectly against him.

One hug from Aaron was like a band-aid healing any problem you had – even the external ones. Maybe this was what the placebo effect felt like and if this was it, you wanted it over and over again.

“Of course,” he muttered, arms still locked around you as if he needed this more than you did.

When you finally parted, his cheeks were dusted with a slight red shade as he wore one of his grins that you’d grown to love and receive more often. “Goodnight.”

Even though you had a raging headache and a painful cut on your temple, it had nothing on the big smile you kept on your face even as you drifted off into sleep that night still feeling warm and giddy.

—

Five.

It had been almost two months since you hugged Aaron in your apartment.

Since that night, something changed in the relationship between the two of you. You couldn’t really place your finger on what had changed, but there was a shift. Tension was thick – not in a bad way but in a way where you wanted to grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him to you any time you were alone.

You also had the feeling that he felt the same way. Aaron had been a profiler for many more years than you had been, but you liked to think you were good at your job. You could read him and from the way his eyes watched you, you could tell he was feeling the same tension in the air.

It was New Year’s Eve, and David Rossi had, after a lot of pleading from Penelope, agreed to host a small get-together for the team plus family including Will, Henry, and Jack – the latter two were currently running around the, very expensive, house, which was driving Dave insane as kept watch to make sure nothing got damaged due to the kids.

You were standing outside in the backyard, the late-December air hitting your face as you glanced down at your phone that told you it was almost midnight.

When you thought back to who you were around this time last year –  a woman in a new city with a demanding job and hardly any friends, still crying yourself to sleep over someone who didn’t deserve your tears – it made you want to smile.

It had been a little over a year since you started working at the BAU and as you glanced inside through the large glass doors, you felt like you belonged. There was no more doubt, no more tears, and no more days where you wanted to run away.

“What are you doing out here? You’ll freeze to death.” You turned around to find Aaron closing one of the glass doors and moving towards you.

He was wearing a black quarter zip and jeans – a casual outfit but one of your favorites. For reasons that you couldn’t understand, Aaron Hotchner in a quarter zip made you feel things.

“I came out here because it’s cold,” you told Aaron, leaning against a railing and crossing your sweater-covered arms. “It’s so hot and stuffy in there. It’s like Rossi is trying to burn us all alive.”

Aaron laughed and walked over next to you. He leaned against the railing, his arm brushing against yours. “He does keep his house pretty hot.”

“Is Jack having a good time?”

Jack Hotchner was probably your favorite kid you’d ever met. He was a total sweetheart, and you instantly got along with him from the first day you met him.

You didn’t miss the way Aaron’s face lit up a little as you mentioned his son. “Yes, I think so. He’s a big fan of celebrating the New Year because he gets to stay up late.” You then watched his face fall a bit. “He’s been missing his mom a lot lately, so coming here tonight – it’s good for him.”

You knew of Aaron’s ex-wife who had died before you joined the team, and you knew the terrible way that it happened. You’d also heard that it greatly affected Jack and Aaron, even though he hid it more than he should’ve.

“It must be hard on him, but I’m glad he’s having a good time tonight.”

Aaron smiled. “He loves the team, but I think you’re his favorite.”

You grinned. “No way! I’m honored.”

A comfortable silence grew between the two of you with no sounds other than distinct chatter and laughs from inside of the house. You glanced over to Aaron who was pulling out his phone.

“Eleven fifty-eight,” he said. “You want to head back inside and watch the ball drop?”

You almost said yes at first because you actually did want to see the ball drop, but you also wanted a moment alone with Aaron considering you rarely got them in a setting outside of work. Maybe you were being selfish, but you didn’t care – a few more minutes with him wouldn’t hurt. “I think I’m going to stay out here.”

He didn’t say anything. Aaron kept his phone out so the two of you could keep an eye on the clock app, its tiny, orange hand moving around the twelve, now signalizing that it was eleven fifty-nine.

Your eyes kept watch on the clock as it got closer to passing twelve again. You were starting to get nervous. A part of you expected Aaron to go inside after you told him you weren’t going back in – it wasn’t like he was obligated to stay out in the cold with you.

However, he never went back inside and as the clock kept getting closer to midnight, only seconds away now, you wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were: the traditional New Year’s kiss.

You discretely searched for any sign on his face that gave away if he was going to kiss you or not. You so desperately wanted it but if he wasn’t thinking the same thing, there was no way you were going to embarrass yourself by trying to kiss him.

Ten.

Still no sign – you were starting to panic a little.

Nine.

What were you supposed to do?

Eight.

Would he rather have a handshake? He did have a pretty firm grip.

Seven.

No, screw a handshake. Who gives someone a handshake at midnight on New Year’s?

Six.

He put down his phone and was starting to turn toward you.

Five.

Was he actually going to kiss you?

Four.

“Forgive me if I’m reading this wrong, but can I kiss you?”

Three.

You couldn’t form words, only a nod, eyes slightly widened.

Two.

He was moving his hand up to your cheek and, oh dear, this was actually going to happen.

One.

Aaron’s lips were warm against yours, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever been kissed with so much delicacy. He was gentle and respectful. Your hands pressed against his chest before you finally moved them up to the nape of his neck under the collar of the quarter zip you loved so much, pulling him even closer to you.

You felt secure and safe pressed up tightly against him with one hand of his cupping your jaw as the other rested firmly on your lower back. Your mouth was opening up before you could even stop it. Aaron smiled against your lips as he felt it before he deepened the kiss.

 This time, he was kissing you much more firmly and with the feeling of his tongue moving against yours, you couldn’t remember the last time, or if ever, you felt the way you did. His hand pressed even harder against your back, making you inhale sharply during the kiss.

There was a time in your life when you thought you would never find someone else – that maybe you were destined to be alone all because of one person who didn’t see your worth, but Aaron made all the pain go away to the point where you hadn’t thought of the person who hurt you in months.

Aaron made you feel like you were floating all the time. He reminded you of your worth instead of breaking you down. He was a man who did both the small things like throwing a blanket around your cold body and the big things like bringing you snacks and medicine after a hit to the head – the definition of “if he wanted to, he would” in the best way possible.

“Hey! You guys missed the – holy shit!”

You flung yourself off Aaron and looked behind him to see Emily standing there, her mouth wide open. You’d never seen her utterly speechless like she was at the moment. She opened and closed her mouth for a moment, glancing back and forth between the two of you before she finally found something to say.

 “Morgan and Reid owe me fifty bucks.”

—

(+) One.

It was three months into Aaron Hotchner’s relationship with you when he knew with absolute certainty that he loved you.

His job was difficult, and today was no different but instead of shaking it off before going home, he couldn’t help but feel a cloud of emotion follow him all the way back home to his apartment.

He knew that you were waiting on him because the two of you were supposed to have dinner. You’d gotten to leave at a reasonable time and not, he glanced down at his watch, at nine at night. Aaron had a lot of duties and responsibilities as Unit Chief, but he sometimes wished he didn’t in order to come home at a normal hour.

Aaron saw you sitting on his couch as soon as he unlocked and opened his front door. You smiled sweetly as you looked over at him, no trace of frustration or anger at how late he was getting home.

“Everything go okay with those reports? I know Strauss was giving you a hard time,” You said as you glanced back down at your phone you were holding. When he didn’t answer, he saw you look back up at him again but this time with a frown on your face.

He knew the look he had on his face was giving him away, but he just couldn’t force himself to not feel the way that he was feeling.

You put your phone down on the coffee table and stood up to move in front of him. “Are you okay?”

“That’s usually my line to you,” he attempted a joke, but it never reached his eyes.

You responded with a half-smile. “Bad evening?”

Aaron nodded, not saying anything further. You moved closer as you wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, honey,” he said, instantly feeling a little better just from your touch. “I missed dinner. I’m not the one who should be upset.”

You pulled back and rested both hands on each side of his face as he kept his situated on your waist. “Someone told me once that how you feel is an important thing even if you think it isn’t.”

He chuckled a bit. “Using my own words against me, huh?”

You cracked a smile. “It’s okay that you missed dinner. I know you had a rough and busy evening. Don’t worry about me. We can have dinner another night – it’s not a big deal that you couldn’t make it.”

You were looking at him so sincerely and touching him with so much care that he couldn’t help but pull you back in again, eyes closing at the feeling of another hug from you.

“Let’s go to bed,” you mumbled to him. “You look like you could go for an early night.”

Aaron wasn’t sure what he did to deserve someone as good as you – someone who cared for him even on days when he didn’t care for himself. You were kind, understanding, and patient. Sometimes he couldn’t even believe he was lucky enough to be with someone like you.

So while he wasn’t sure of how deserving he really was, he was one hundred percent sure of the fact that he loved you and your lovely self.