#i'm embarrassed by the quality of some of these

[cherryredz]

Skating on Thin Ice

one-shot

Summary: After weeks of exchanging lighthearted texts and meeting up for casual coffee dates, Harry decides to take you on your first official date. Wanting to do something fun and a bit nostalgic, he suggests ice skating at a nearby outdoor rink that’s been set up for the winter. You have never skated before and hesitate at first. But in the end you agree, intrigued by the idea of trying something new with him.

Warnings: none

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It was a crisp winter evening, the kind that made the world feel still and quiet, save for the soft sound of skates carving through ice. Harry stood beside the outdoor rink, waiting for you to arrive. The twinkling lights around the rink shimmered, casting a warm glow over everything. When he spotted you walking toward him, your breath visible in the cold air, he smiled.

"Hey," you greeted, your cheeks flushed from the cold, your eyes bright with excitement and nervousness. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this."

Harry grinned, stepping forward to meet you. "I promise it’s going to be fun. No pressure, we’re here to enjoy the night." He held out a hand, helping you with your skates. "Let’s get these on first."

"I’m already having second thoughts," you laughed, pulling the laces tight around your boots. "I’ve never been on ice before. What if I fall?"

"You won’t fall," Harry reassured you, tying your skate laces with an expert hand. "Well, you might... but I’ll be there to catch you."

You raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on your lips. "You’re so confident, I’m starting to feel like I might just embarrass myself."

"No chance." Harry finished with the skates, standing up and offering you a hand. "Come on, I’ll show you how it’s done."

You stepped onto the ice together, and you immediately clutched the edge of the rink. Harry, laughing softly, stayed by your side, one hand resting on your back to steady you.

"Okay, this is definitely harder than it looks," you muttered, trying to shift your weight but feeling unsteady.

"Take your time," Harry said gently. "Just shift your weight, one foot at a time."

You hesitated, glancing at Harry. "I feel like a baby deer on skates."

Harry chuckled. "We all start somewhere. I’m not exactly a pro either." He nudged you playfully. "Just don’t fall into me."

"I’ll try not to," you teased, trying to keep your balance. "I feel like I’m going to wipe out any second."

Harry steadied you once more, a warm smile on his face. "You’re doing great. I’ll be right here."

As you slowly circled the rink together, your conversation shifted to more personal topics. "So," you started, your voice light, "you’re always so calm and collected. How do you do it?"

Harry shrugged, gliding along smoothly beside you. "It’s just easier to keep it together when the world’s watching. But sometimes, it gets... tiring, you know? People expect you to always be happy, always on."

You nodded, your thoughts drifting to your own insecurities. "I get that. I guess I try to keep a brave face too, but there’s always this pressure, this feeling like I’m never enough."

Harry glanced at you, his expression softening. "You don’t have to feel like that, Y/N. I mean, you’re here, with me, right now. And that’s enough."

You smiled, the warmth of his words melting some of your nerves. "Thanks, Harry. I... I think I needed to hear that."

You continued skating, Harry occasionally giving you pointers, laughing at the little stumbles you both made. The ice became more familiar, and your confidence began to grow.

"You’re getting better," Harry commented, slowing down beside you as you gained more control. "Look at you go."

You grinned, feeling proud of yourself. "I guess I’m not so bad after all."

You skated in silence for a moment, both of you enjoying the peacefulness of the rink. The cold air was refreshing, and the twinkling lights above you gave the night an almost magical quality.

"I think I could get used to this," you said softly, your hand brushing against his. You glanced up at him, your breath coming in soft puffs. "Thanks for pushing me to try something new."

Harry stopped skating for a moment, turning to face you. "I’m glad you did. It’s fun, right?"

You nodded, your heart racing a little faster than it had been before. "Yeah, it is." You looked into his eyes, the connection between you growing stronger by the second. The moments of awkwardness had turned into something more—something real.

Harry, who had been trying to keep his composure, suddenly felt a shift. The nervousness he’d felt at the beginning of the night had turned into something far more tender. He stepped closer, his voice quieter now. "Y/N…"

Before he could say anything else, you took a small step closer as well, the gap between you closing. Your faces were inches apart, the warmth of your bodies contrasting with the chill in the air. Your heart pounded, and Harry’s breath was shallow. You paused for a moment, and in the next breath, Harry leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, unexpected kiss.

It was gentle, tentative at first, but when you kissed him back, all the hesitation melted away. You pulled back slightly, your faces still close, eyes meeting in the glow of the lights. Your lips were warm against his, and the spark between you was undeniable.

"That was..." you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Harry replied, his voice just as soft. "Perfect."

You lingered there for a moment, basking in the magic of the moment before Harry smiled and extended his hand. "Shall we go get some cocoa? I’m freezing."

"That sounds amazing," you said, grinning. "Lead the way."

You walked off the ice together, the sound of your laughter echoing in the crisp winter air. Harry pulled you close, and you shared a quiet moment as you headed for the warmth of the car, the ice rink behind you already becoming a cherished memory.

As you parted ways later that night, Harry paused before walking off into the night, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "This is just the beginning, Y/N."

You smiled, your heart still racing, as you watched him go. "I’m looking forward to it."

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This is the first ever time I'm writing something here, hope you like it! Let me know what you think :))

p.s. English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes.

[bts-trans]

📅 250130 Weverse Translations Thread

Jin's Post ❇️

아미 여러분 설 잘 보내고 계시나요 저도 가족들이랑 떡국 잘 먹었답니다 집안에 요리하는 사람이 있어서 그런지 음식 퀄리티가 올라 갔더라구요 하하 (나도 가끔 해감) 조카도 두 명이나 있어서 세뱃돈도 줬어요.. 평생 받을 줄 만 알았는데ㅠㅠ 셀카도 올리고 싶은데 요새 화장하는 스케줄이 없어서 민낯이 부끄러워 잘 못 올리겠습니다 힝 그래도 최근 삼주 정도 단 하루도 거르지 않고 출근은 했어요. 열심히 일하고 있으니 우리 아미들 달려라 석진 보면서 조금 더 기다려주세요 하트 https://weverse.io/bts/artist/4-191167287

ARMY, are you enjoying Seollal?

I enjoyed some tteokguk* with my family

Maybe it's because we have someone in the family who cooks, but I feel like the quality of the food has gone up haha (I help out sometimes too)

I also have two nieces/nephews*² so I had to give out some new year's money too.. I thought I'd only be on the receiving end my whole life ㅠㅠ

I wanted to post a selfie but I haven't had any appointments that I needed to wear make up for recently, and I'm embarrassed by my bare face so I won't be able to post sob

But still, for the last three weeks, I've gone to work every single day, without fail. I've been working hard. So, ARMY, just watch some Run!Jin and wait a little bit more hearties

(T/N: 1. Rice cake soup traditionally eaten during new year's celebrations. 2. Could be either since the term in Korean does not specify gender.)

Trans cr; Aditi @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

[tvuniverse]

ARCANE Jinx and Vi -> hugs through the seasons

[critter-covenant]

Hi chat have these dogday and catnap sketches I did with a crayon on a napkin at olive garden todahy

[buckleydiaz]

RYAN GUZMAN | Everybody Wants Some!! (2016)

[lucy-the-cat]

me accidentally convincing one of my classics mutuals to read red queen by my sheer amount of posting

[robyn-wont-shut-up]

i'm not going to beat the furry allegations with this one guys

(tail from liquidbreed on etsy)

[ay0nha]

Tim Roth, The Perfect Husband (1993)

[wardensantoineandevka]

there are days that I feel bad about the state of coverage and structure at the Miraheze CR wiki, then immediately the Fandom platform starts inflicting some real garbage onto all of their wikis

[seravphs]

I’m scared to post knight Gojo thank you for being so nice to me about it bffs 💛

[thatlittledandere]

Okay, so this is late (again), but for the "Not So Nice" OC Asks: how about 4, 13, 21, 25, 36, and 42 for Keiichi, Shiro, and/or Minta (or whoever you feel like talking about)~ ^^

[EDIT: FUCK ok I scrolled to the bottom of my drafts and this has been buried in there for SEVEN YEARS. And I see some things have changed since then so I’m just. Gonna release this into the wild as-is. No edits past these brackets not even in tags. wOW. Vintage.]

ok this is gonna be LONG so here’s a cut (and here’s the meme)

4. Describe their worst nightmare.

(I’m treating this as a “biggest fear” question I couldn’t tell the difference)

Keiichi: Being abandoned by the people who mean the most to him

Shiro: His loved ones getting hurt and 

Minta: Being seen as weak

13. Which of the 7 Deadly Sins best describes them?

Keiichi:

Shiro: Many would say lust because of his skirt-chasing reputation but really it’s pretty far away from the truth

Minta: Pride. She wants to feel be seen as strong, powerful, independent and mature so she won’t ask for help or show vulnerability very easily or to very many.

21. What is something that causes them great anxiety?

Keiichi: At the point on the timeline I’m imagining here Keiichi’s biggest anxiety is being outed as gay. It’ll be fine eventually, I promise. He’ll have more reason to anxiety later on and oh boy those things are the things I feast on.

Shiro: He’s afraid he’s generally an unlikable person and Keiichi and Minta are just so used to him that they’ve learnt to tolerate him.

Minta:

25. Have they ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust?

Keiichi: Oh, honey, he doesn’t trust like that. Keiichi trusts three (3) people in his life: Shiro, Minta and his mom. Amd they have all earned his trust fair and square and that isn’t the kind of hurt I’m planning on

Shiro: Oh sweetie YES. I mean he doesn’t look at it that way but I do and I am God so ye. What Shitzuko pulled was definitely betrayal, whatever it was that she pulled.

Minta: Also yes. Her ex boyfriend (or… future or current one… listen I operate on at least four points on the timeline simultaneously) was a fuckboy and deserved to go after his lil stunt.

36. Are they in control of their emotions, or are their emotions in control of them?

Keiichi: At least he thinks he’s got them on check. And I don’t enough about emotions to dispute it.

Shiro: Shiro is a man of emotion.

Minta:

42. Are they comfortable with where they are in life?

Keiichi: He tries to convince himself he is

Shiro: Mostly yeah! He’d like a girlfriend and would love it if he didn’t need to worry for Keiichi so much (he doesn’t need to he just doesn’t understand the concept of introverts) but mostly he doesn’t have anything to complain about. A sunshine child

Minta: She’s got her own demons too but doesn’t acknowledge them even to the the extent Keiichi does;;

Thinking of answers I noticed Minta really doesn’t have a lot going on for her… I gotta work on that. She used to be my favorite to draw (and I guess she still is) but golly did she lose in personality what she gained in attention.

[cxttlefishcxller]

𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤

So I was lovingly tagged by @residentdormouse who is great and awesome and indulgent of my bullshit. So away the shit does bull, I suppose jfkdl;safd The rules are simple - find a sentence, or excerpt, that includes the words you're given and paste it in, and include a link to the finished story of you want. But honestly, guidelines at best - do what you want.

My words to find: White, Cold, Snow, Frost, Ice, Gloves, Hat, Cocoa (or Tea), Blanket, Snuggle/cuddle (or any variation of this) No pressure tags: @caktusjuice-draws, @jaiesondurantkross, @beyondthetemples-ooc, and a massive Open Tag to anyone who wants to! I love seeing things y'all write <3 Your words are (really I'm just going off of moodboard vibes with a couple wild cards thrown in): Paper, Sunset, Natural, Leather, Bookmark, Steel, Chill, Ember, Storm, Makeshift.

Bullshit below the cut!

Okay, so some of these will be from published works, but several will likely be from the as-of-yet chaotically-unwritten remake of Second Lead Serenade. So it's a lot of Stand Shenanigans (tm) but I'll try to drop some other shit in, too. Just to keep things interesting. XD

White: (godfuckingdammit I was making fun of you for having so many Flagg references and the first one I got is a fucking Flagg reference. This one's from a bonus chapter from Serenade that hasn't made its way into the narrative just yet.)

“I went down to Saint James Infirm’ry…saw my baby there,” The voice croons under its breath. The predators may be gone, but the fear remains, and Piper finds that she doesn’t dare raise her head to see who belongs to the boots that draw slowly near. Didn’t Mother Abigail say something about wolves? Dark eyes in the night that were too eager to snap up good souls lost on their way? She had thought about how wolves were sacred to Odin, that not all were hungry and savage beasts, but that truth seems farther away now. “She was stretched out on a long white table…” The voice goes on. “So cold, so sweet, so sweet, so fair.” The footsteps stop. The boots are only a foot or so away now, and the figure pauses before dropping to a squat. A warm glow lights the area around them as a hand comes into her field of vision, extended in invitation. “Hey there, Dani. Need a hand?” Dani. No one’s been alive to call her that in weeks…maybe even months. All of the family and friends that had known her by that name are long dead. Her hair spills into her face as she dares to look up at last. Attached to that hand is a lean man with coiffed, sandy hair and a smile as sharp as glass. His eyes are pale, creased by the kindness of his expression, but she can’t shake the feeling that maybe the wolf had been in front of her all along. Dazedly, she puts her hand in his, allowing him to help her slowly to her feet. His skin burns against hers, and she stumbles when he claps a free hand on her shoulder. 

Cold: (I wasn't gonna have Serenade be two for two, but honestly I couldn't resist the urge to shoehorn TedPipes into something. Teddy continues to be the Best Boi Ever, and poor Piper's just trying to drag herself out of her survivor's guilt jfkldsafd)

His worry comes off of him in waves. The last bits of her loathing have returned to their home in the hollow of her ribs, turning her stomach as it settles back into shame instead of rage. “I’m okay.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, energy all but spent. “I’m fine. It’s just…” She can’t find an explanation worth using. Trying to put this emotion to words feels like Sisyphus and his stone. Too much and not enough all at once. “...It’s just me.”  He studies her for a long moment, brow furrowing before he shifts to take his legs out from underneath him, sitting beside her on the ground instead. “...Wanna talk about it?” He asks. His radio hisses, someone’s voice reporting that a section is clear. He shifts, turning the device off with a telltale click.  “I…I don’t know.” She shakes her head, brushing a loose lock of hair out of her eyes. Her palm is scraped raw from her outburst, skin broken in a few places and stinging as dots of blood meet the cold air. “I don’t know where I’d even start.” ���Take your time.” He moves again, settling in at her side and leaning back against the tree. “Whatever you need. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

Frost: (Ohhhh I had to DIG to find this one. I don't use this word enough, I guess. This is an ooooold WIP of an original D&D-adjacent fantasy piece I was writing about a witch and a rogue finding some royal baby in a rosebush and having to figure out who and where to take it home to. Shenanigans Ensue.)

With such a blue cast to their coal-colored skin, Dark-Elves flush a shade of purple. This purple tinges his cheeks as he coughs, sitting up again as he splutters, “That...that isn’t any of your concern. The important thing is that I was at her estate and she had a need for my services. And we’ll get a tidy sum of gold out of her, so what’s the harm?” “None at all...if you’re successful. If you’re not, you don’t live here. I’ll deny everything if her guard comes by to make you pay for ruining her land.” She decides with a hum, draining the last of her tea.  “How heartless, Ketta. After all I’ve done for you.” Despite his words, he laughs, reaching to fill her cup again. “After all I’ve done for you, you mean. I got along just fine before you got here. And when you leave again, I’ll be all the more peaceful for it.” The banter is easy, playful, though her words ring true. Irren is a wanderer, and Ketsiyah a loner. Their arrangement is comfortable, she knows, because it’s temporary. He came into Thornfall just as the last frost was thawing, with half a year spent in the attic space above her home. The arrangement was that he would be gone by the time the first freeze came through.  

Ice: (BirdBrains gets some representation! This is from Shine On You Crazy Diamond, the IT/The Stand crossover I've slowly been writing. Which.......I really ought to get back to. <.<;;;;)

“We all tried to find out what really happened--his friends and I, I mean. A bunch of kids looking for a fucking serial killer.” He chuckles wryly, only able to look at his and Crow’s joined hands. Their touch is the only thing anchoring him, he thinks. If he lets go, he might sink down into the pit again. Down in the dark, where It lived. “And I think we did find It eventually. But I can’t remember. I just remember how scared I was. And how badly we were hurt after. And I remember that we all made a promise that if we didn’t kill It like we thought…we’d have to come back. To finish the job.” Silence falls between them as he finishes, and now, with all of the confusing, tangled pieces he has out in the open, Harold feels that ice-cold surety that he has finally, finally managed to find the one thing to say that would be Too Much. The final straw on the back of a camel that’s been struggling for the four years of their relationship. The one thing that even Crow’s infinite adaptability and determination couldn’t overcome. He can’t look at them, picking at his lower lip with his teeth.  “...It.” They say at last, putting the same weight on the word that he had. Not just a pronoun--it’s almost a title. A name for something so evil and so terrible that his mind goes utterly blank every time he tries to remember. “So this…murderer. This serial killer. You talk about It like It’s not a person at all.”

Gloves: (I was wondering when Between Iron and Silver would come into this one, but apparently I don't use this word enough either jfdkls;afd To summarize, this is an Undertale fic that's the answer to "what if a human fell into the Ruins and stayed?" and then it just...ran away from me. It's also my first foray into second-person writing, which is way more fun than I thought it'd be.)

At the edge of consciousness, you feel more than hear something snap, that ozone scent filling your senses before the weight vanishes, leaving you coughing and rolling to your side to curl around your stomach. As oxygen helps your mind to clear, you turn a little to see your assailant hovering a few feet above you, flailing and growling as they are held in place by some glowing blue force. They turn to roar at your companions, demanding to be released. As you struggle to catch your breath, you turn a little more to see that Sans has an arm raised in their direction, hand and left eye swirling with that same blue glow. Papyrus has one glove pressed against his mouth, eyes wide, looking between the guard and his brother. “Undyne.” Sans speaks through gritted teeth, and you note that his non-glowing eye has gone pitch black. “Calm down. We’re not here about that--this is more important than Asgore’s manhunt. We’re here for help.” “What the hell could be more important than this?!” Undyne--as you know her to be--growls, struggling anew against the force that holds her still. “This is our freedom, the only ticket we have to survive; don’t you want to get out of here?!” “It’s about what happened to Alva.” His tone sharpens despite never raising his voice. “This human has seen it. We came here to get your help.” At the mention of “Alva”, Undyne freezes, fixing him with a hard stare that he unabashedly returns. After a moment that feels like a lifetime, she goes limp. “...Fine.” The conclusion sounds like a struggle. “Whatever. Just...put me down, Sans.”

Hat: (Ahhh the Fuckening. Serenade yet again, but a WIP chapter this time! I still haven't gotten around to the Fuckening itself, but I sure wanted to write down what happened after. If I ever write a fic chronologically, it'll be a cold day in hell.)

Teddy hasn’t moved since his first few hours in the clinic, laid in a bed in the main room under the rough hospital blankets and the unfinished crochet throw Piper had brought in for the chill of the night. The Free Zone’s newly-acquired electricity has been put to good use -- the steady rhythm of his heart monitor embedding itself into her thoughts as she tries to keep busy. Crow had been kind enough to bring some of their collective yarn stash and Piper’s bag of hooks, giving her a chance to try to work on the hats and scarves they were putting together for the town. Doing as much as she can to occupy her mind. Two days, she thinks. The longest two days of her fucking life. Those old habits she’d built when Tripps was at its height have come back in full-force now -- numbly doing the bare minimum requirements of survival, following a set track and routine with no deviation. Filing her mind with tasks and media to avoid any thoughts toward the future or the dark what-ifs outside of her blinders. Much like it had with Tripps, this method works…for the most part. When it doesn’t, it’s only in flashes -- the image of Teddy holding a bloodied hand to his stomach, the way he had clung to her as he collapsed, the shocked look on Nadine’s face as Piper had torn that gun out of her hands from twenty feet away-- No. No, no, no. Not that. Not now. Not ever. She shakes her head, pulling out a few stitches that her tension has made too tight. That didn’t happen. It can’t have happened. So she sweeps it aside, turns up the radio in her mind. Her next few stitches are much more even.

Cocoa/Tea: (Okay so it's more Serenade, but at least it's a Teddy chapter? Nostalgia and introspection abound during a chat with Mother A, while the plot continues to thicken.)

"It's a shitshow." Crow finishes matter-of-factly. "The whole world ended faster than any of us could blink, and no one's around to tell us how to pick up the pieces. And there are too many pieces around to pick up, anyway." Then, clearing their throat, they add a little more sheepishly, "...Sorry for swearing." The older woman only laughs, shaking her head. "Don't you worry about that--I'm old enough and wise enough to know when polite words simply don't suffice. You're absolutely correct. Now that we're done running around like chickens with our heads cut off, it's hard to tell what way is up." Teddy can’t remember the last time he’d had tea, he thinks, listening to the exchange. At least, not the kind that didn’t come in a big teal can that he could pick up for a dollar at 7-11. For an absurd moment as he picks up his cup for a sip, he’s reminded of afternoons spent with his sisters and their dollar-store tea set made from pink plastic and poorly-painted flowers. It’s an effort to keep from sticking his pinkie finger out, mind replaying their indignant cries of it being “the right way”. The nostalgia makes his chest ache. The drink itself is nothing to write home about, as far as his coffee-saturated palate is concerned. A little weak, a little earthy. Probably needing sugar. He reaches for the carafe.  “But you must have some thoughts about how things ended up the way they did. Mr. Bateman thinks it’s human folly. Ray says it’s divine providence. You know how I feel about the divine, but the Lord’s messages to me are more concerned about ‘how’ than ‘why’. What do you all think about it? Why here? Why us?”

Blanket: (ughhhh this one was tough! It isn't that I haven't used this word a lot, but it's never in places that are like. Interesting to share. Except for that post-fuckening excerpt I've already referenced. So back to Iron and Silver I go! Our nameless protag has a mission and they're gonna see it through, no matter how worried their adopted mother gets.)

Not wanting to wake your hosts, you pull the blanket from the next hook on the door, slipping out into the chill night. The lights still bathe the town in warm, inviting light, the snow muffling signs of life to near-silence as you draw the blanket around your shoulders. Steeling yourself for the scolding of the century, you flip the phone open, letting out a deep breath and watching it fog the air before you. “...Hello?” “Where are you?” Toriel’s voice is a comfort despite the frightened sharpness to her voice. “Are you all right? Has anyone found you? Describe where you are--I’ll find you as soon as I’m able.” The questions are fast, going past your attempts to interrupt until you find a breath’s space to break in. “Mom. Momma, I’m fine. I promise. I’m safe, don’t worry.” A beat of silence follows. “My dearest child, what do you think you are doing?” Her voice sounds so small, so vulnerable that you feel a lump forming in your throat. “This world is so cold. So unforgiving. If Asgore finds you, if one of his soldiers catches wind of a human, not even I can protect you. It’s still very early; you should be able to return before anything should happen.” “And what, wait for someone else to figure out what’s going on?” The sharpness you hear from your tone shocks you, shaking your head as you try to force your voice into something more gentle. “I mean...that last cave-in was right in front of our door. And that poor Migosp...Momma, it’s getting closer. It’s getting worse. I can’t let it keep going. And it’s happening out here, too--someone I met has seen it--” “You met someone?” She breaks in, that fear never leaving her voice. “Who? How far did you get?”

Cuddle/Snuggle: (I have only just now realized I have never used either of these words. Like. Ever. I guess I've been focusing WAY too much on the pining and not enough on the actual smoochies, so here, have a cute TedPipes-flavored thing from the unfinished next-chapter of Shine On. The Derry kids come home, and realize that they'd forgotten a little too much in their time away.)

She turns, fixed by the familiarity of the stranger standing behind her. He’s almost a head taller than her, with dark curly hair and a warm smile that crinkles the edges of pale blue eyes. “You make for a terrible door.” he goes on, gesturing to her with one hand as the other slips into the pocket of his jacket.  “Teddy?” The name brings a younger face to her mind, bright and freckled and just a little bucktoothed. In a flash she remembers laying in the floor of her bedroom listening to her sister’s old record player, sitting in a dark movie theater waiting for the previews of some new movie to end, and swinging off of a rope into the water at the quarry…never more than an arm’s length away from the one kid who insisted that no one should spend summer break alone. He’s older now, but still has that mischievous light in his eyes. “Hey, Piper. Been a while.” “Holy shit,” Her tension is forgotten completely as she meets him in a hug that smells of cigarette smoke and cologne. The pure warmth she feels is unmistakable, beaming as she pulls back just enough to look up at him. “God, look at you.” She breathes, realizing that time has done him incredibly well. Those freckles are still there, but time has given them some softness, as well as a softness around his eyes and mouth. He’s really grown into himself, features and posture much stronger than she remembers. Oh no, she thinks. Puberty hit Weizak like a Mack truck. “Look at you.” He returns with a self-conscious laugh, arms still looped around her back. Her heart is still racing, she finds, trying and failing to find words to say that encompass the strength of emotions running through her. 

[rotisseries]

WHAT IS THIS AFTG DRUG THAT IM MISSING. WHAT HAPPENED. RORI WAS IT JUST SOME KIND OF PIT YOU FELL INTO OR DID YOU JUST SPIRAL DOWN SLOWLY INTO MADNESS. HELLO?????? I want to know. I'm looking thru the bars of ur cell wishing I could join in this is ludicrous

I WISH I WAS YOU I WISH I WAS YOU SO FUCKING BAD. if it makes you feel better I actually have a habit of watching/reading bad series and just. sticking it out for some reason like even if I hate it as long i have something to bitch about we're good. which is how i stuck it out long enough for it to be inescapable. anyway chapter 7 of the first book seems to be where the first signs of madness set in and then chapter 12 was the point of no return. i tripped and fell I blinked and suddenly I did have to know very badly how the entire series would play out

[simonbrain]

it doesn't matter how quietly you attempt to get off at night; your lieutenant is always listening, always grumpy about the pretty sounds disturbing his slumber.

you were embarrassed when he brought it up to you (keep it down, can't fuckin' sleep with oll tha' racket), so you opted to not use your vibrator the next night, instead using your fingers like some lady from the 1800's. it wasn't as efficient, but it did the job, and you were knocked out after a few orgasms.

you think you're doing good, as he doesn't confront you about your nightly activities for a few days after that. not until one morning when he pulls you over to an obscured area outside, not paying any mind to your stumbling and hissing.

even with the mask on, you can tell he's scowling. "how many times do i 'ave to tell you to keep it down?" he grumbles, peering down at you through golden eyelashes. his head tilts as he speaks, and you have to force yourself to not squeeze your thighs together in front of your superior officer. "i can hear tha' wet cunt through the walls every night—are you tha' thirsty for it, pet?" a finger clips onto your belt loop, and you're being tugged closer, a chuckle rumbling from him when he takes notice of how flustered you're getting.

you've never wanted to explode into tiny pieces more in your life than this moment. your cheeks feel hot, and you can only stare up at him and watch as his gaze roams down your body. heated. predatory.

"i— i don't want—" you try to deny what you know is inevitable because ghost always gets his way, but it's thrilling to watch how he pushes his body against yours, the smell of him overpowering your rational thoughts. he only peels the mask high enough to free his mouth before he's shoving his tongue down your throat, a gloved hand finding its way to the front of your pants.

that night, when you crawl into bed with a fully charged vibrator, warmth already swirling in your belly, you think about how ghost's hands felt on your body. how he so meanly nudged the fat head of his cock in until he was fully sheathed, stretching you so thin you swear he was going to split you apart.

("there we go," he coos—or rather snarls at you, thick fingers filling up your mouth because you were whining too loud for his liking. "knew you wanted this fuckin' cunt stuffed full o'me," he groans while pawing at your chest, harsh pants hitting your ear. "tha's why you're so loud, innit? nasty fuckin' thing.")

how he kissed you like he was trying to consume you, licking into your mouth with such fervour, you were surprised he hadn't already burst into flames. he resembles a brick more than an actual human sometimes, but patience has always been his strongest quality.

you really shouldn't be surprised when ghost pours into your room while you're making yourself dizzy with thoughts of him, your brain liquifying on the pillow from the constant delicious vibrations against your throbbing clit. the sound of the door being kicked shut behind him startles you as he stalks over to your bed.

"i'm starting to think you like pissing me off." he growls softly, the bed squeaking underneath his weight. the vibrator is still buzzing against you, and you swallow when his eyes drop down to the soft, wet mess between your legs. "get on your fuckin' knees, girl."

[s0dium]

I fucking hate him

A/n: One of the dialogues is lightly taken from "God of Ruin" by Rina Kentaken (plz check it out) Enjoy!!

Word count: 3.5k

Synopsis: You detest Yuji's uncle, Sukuna. His demeanor is rude and abrasive, and he is undoubtedly a sadist. You don't even try to hide your disdain, but the more you try to distance yourself from him, the stronger his opposition grows. Each attempt to push him away only seems to draw him in closer, closer, ever so close.

"You're fucking insufferable," you spat, your eyes narrowing with hatred. "You're pretentious," Sukuna shot back, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth." No, you're a narcissist," you hiss" Yeah, but I turn you on," he purrs

Warning: Hate sex, rough sex, biting, fingering, edging, cowgirl, size kink, breeding, unprotected sex, slight voyeurism, breeding

You remember the day you met Sukuna for the first time like it was yesterday.

It was during the somber occasion of Wasuke Itadori's funeral—Yuji's beloved grandfather. The day was draped in a heavy sorrow; after the ceremony and the lowering of the casket, you followed the Itadori family back to their home. Being practically family yourself, and living just next door, it felt natural to join them and if not grieve, support the grieving family alongside them. While everyone gathered in the garden, sharing hushed memories and quiet support, you slipped inside the house to charge your phone.

As you stepped into the room, the air felt suddenly charged, like the prelude to a storm. There in the living room, was a man, a large man, lounging on one of the sofas dressed in a black suit and tie. The first thing you notice is his striking pink hair contrasting sharply with the dark, intricate tattoos that crawl up his neck and frame his face. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, fix on you the moment you enter, and his smirk is like a crack in a mask of indifference.

"You must be the famous dear friend of the family, Y/n right?" he drawls, his voice as smooth as silk and just as dangerous. "Heard a lot about you. All good things, I promise." His voice drips with sarcasm making you thickly gulp.

You hesitate by the doorway, your initial smile freezing on your lips. This was the Sukuna Ryomen? The man you'd heard only in hushed conversations between Jin and Choso, the man Yuji calls his uncle? You try to muster your composure, crossing the room to stand at a respectable distance.

"I wish I could say the same," you reply, aiming for polite but firm. Your voice wavers just slightly.

Sukuna chuckles, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. "Oh, come now. No need for such defenses. I'm not the monster they painted in their tales. Or perhaps I am, and that's what intrigues you? What do you think so far" he bends forward. "Am I intriguing?"

You bristle at his words, the arrogance dripping from each syllable like poison. "I-I dont know about that." You curse yourself at the way your voice comes out as a stutter. "I'm here out of respect for your family."

"Respect," he repeats, tasting the word as if it's something exotic. "Funny, I never put much stock in that. The old man sure tried to teach me, shame he is gone. But perhaps you'll teach me its value?"

What the hell does he mean by that?

He stands suddenly, closing the distance between you with a few measured steps. You can’t help but step back, your back hitting the wall. His presence is overwhelming, suffocating.

"Why so tense?" Sukuna teases, leaning close, his breath ghosting over your cheek. "I'm just trying to get to know you better. After all, anyone who loves my family must have some redeeming qualities, hidden though they may be. Although," he tilts his head, as if analyzing you. "I wouldn't be surprised if they just kept you around cause you're a pretty thing to look at."

You feel a flush of anger and embarrassment heating your cheeks. "I think you've gotten to know enough for one day," you snap, ducking under his arm and striding toward the door. His laughter follows you, low and mocking.

"Oh, don't be like that!" he calls out. "We're just getting started!"

It only took a minute. One minute for you to decide that you hated Sukuna with a fucking passion.

Unfortunately, the fact that Sukuna had just gotten out of jail, did nothing to hamper your hatred. It seemed like ever since he got out, he was not only determined to stick to the family, but to you, like glue.

The Friday night dinners with the Itadori family, once cherished and loved, had practically turned into a battleground. What used to be a warm gathering was now filled with endless teasing and arrogant attempts at flirting. You were even hesitant to stay over now, as you were never to sure when you’d turn a corner and there Sukuna would be with some sleazy remark about your pajamas.

You tried talking to the Itadori family about it, tried complaining to Jin and raise your concerns. And as receptive and understanding as they were, you knew that for them, blood was thicker than anything, and in some part, you knew that applied to you too.

Still, you persisted, even now as you sat at another Friday dinner you were determined to just enjoy yourself with the family you loved so much.

Key word, tried.

"Well, Jin, I must say, this food is... quaint.” He says through a chuckle and you have to bite the inside of your cheek from throwing a fork at him right there and then. “Did you burn it on purpose, or was that just a happy accident?"

"Dude," You breathe a sigh of relief when Choso speaks up, his voice calm but firm. "Can you go one day without being a jerk?" His eyes are fixed on Sukuna, echoing the frustration you both share about his behavior. This solidarity is one of the reasons why you feel closest to Choso in the family. His understanding and shared grievances with the insufferable man were one of the reasons why you two were best friends.

"Please, I bet this food beats anything you had in prison." You whisper under your breath, but audibly enough that others catch it when you hear Choso breathe through his nose in a laugh-like snort.

Sukuna sets down his silverware and leans forward with a grin, his eyebrows raised in amusement as he gazes across the table at you. "Oh, someone's got a sharp tongue," he remarks. "Careful, angel, you might cut yourself."

You roll your eyes and sharply cross your arms. "Funny, coming from someone who probably had to beg for scraps behind bars. Do you even know what real food tastes like?"

You don’t miss the way Yuji chokes on his pasta, stifling back laughter making you smile.

Sukuna's lips curve into a sly smirk as he locks eyes with you. "Oh trust me, I've tasted a lot of things. But I guess you wouldn't understand, being so... sheltered."

Unfazed, you shoot back with a dismissive wave of your hand, "Sheltered? Please. At least I don’t need to rely on prison slop to remind me of home."

This time, Sukuna's response is a silent, piercing stare that makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Even though you were wearing a sweater and shorts, his gaze made you feel like you were naked.

From the corner, Jin clears his throat, chuckling nervously. "Um, maybe we should all just calm down a bit—"

You cut him off, your voice firm as you defend the meal laid out before you. “No way, not when he disrespects your food, which is great, may I add.”

"Oh, I love it when you get all fired up." Sukuna's eyes glint with mischief as he watches your rising frustration. "It's adorable."

Feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, you stand up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a scrape. "Excuse me, I think I'm full," you declare crisply, gathering your dishes with a clatter and storming off to the kitchen to dump them in the sink. Without a backward glance, you stride toward the living room, your footsteps echoing your irritation.

"Come on, why do you always gotta be such an ass, Uncle?" Yuji mumbles, shooting a glare at Sukuna who only responds with a shrug.

As you sank into the couch cushions, you let out a deep sigh of relief, your body sinking into the familiar comfort of your favorite spot. You turned on the TV, dazedly watching whatever was on, trying to distract yourself from the day's tensions. Of course, thoughts of Sukuna kept creeping into your mind. What was his problem with you? Did the man get dropped on the head as a baby? How and the hell were he and Jin brothers?? Surely he was the result of some fucked up science experiment.

Engulfed in your thoughts, the passage of time slipped unnoticed until a shift in the couch's cushion snapped you back to reality. You turned, and -

Oh what the fuck.

Sukuna settled next to you, leaning on the armrest of the other side of the couch, a tattooed hand settled on his thigh, He had changed into a white tank top and sweatpants, and you feel your heart jump when your eyes unconsciously travel to between his leg where a slight budge pressed against the fabric. Shit. The tips of your ears turned red and you bit the inside of your cheek. That's another thing you loathed about Sukuna; how the scent of his old spice shampoo made you dizzy, how the way he towered over you made your breathing stop, how despite how fucking insufferable he was, he was so so so attractive.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you choked out, your tone edged with disbelief and irritation.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "What does it look like? Watching TV," he replied coolly, his eyes briefly scanning the screen before settling back on you. "Everyone's gone to sleep, you know."

"No, what are you doing sitting next to me?" you hissed, the proximity suddenly feeling far too close despite the physical distance. Your eyes narrowed, locking onto his vermillion eyes.

"Why you afraid I'll bite?" He says, gnashing his teeth together in a teasing display before moving closer to you. "Don't worry, I only bite when I'm asked."

"S-stop talking to me like that," you say, trying to shuffle back, but find yourself already trapped against the armrest.

"Like what?" Sukuna's voice is teasing, almost playful.

"Like I'm your toy."

He tilts his head slightly and leans forward, a smirk playing at his lips. "More like my doll."

"More like your grim reaper. I'll slice your throat if you touch me," you retort sharply, the tension between you crackling. You watch the way his eyes rake over you like a porn magazine, making you cross your arms as if to shield yourself.

He laughs, a sound rich with amusement. "You're such a menace. I want to gobble you up."

As he inches closer, the scent of his shampoo fills the air—a fragrance so intoxicating you want to bury your nose in it, yet you resist. "I'll give you indigestion, asshole," you snap, trying to maintain your composure.

"Worth it, muse," he counters smoothly, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Sure you're going to be thinking about that when I punch you in the face?"

"Oh, and make me bleed? Blood?" He licks his lips. "Yum." He feigns shock, leaning even closer. "You just keep ticking all my boxes today. Did you do your research on me?"

"Not even if you were the last man alive," you choke out, his proximity overwhelming, his face just inches from yours now. A slight move, and your noses would brush against each other.

"Last man to everyone else? No. To you? Highly likely." His whisper is a taunt, his breath a warm tease against your skin.

That's it.

As you attempt to rise from the couch, Sukuna's large hand swiftly lands on your thigh, pressing just firmly enough to guide you back down onto the cushion. You react instinctively, trying to swat his hand away, but he's quicker; he catches both of your wrists in his grasp, holding them gently yet with an unyielding firmness.

"What the hell are you doing?" you demand, your voice sharp with alarm and a flare of anger, your eyes locked intensely on his, searching for an explanation in his steady gaze.

"Jesus christ Y/n" Sukuna groans, rolling his eyes, "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?"

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”

“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” He chuckles.

Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, and get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so.

“I-fuck you” The words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.

“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and stern. You stay silent as you watch him examine your face. He leans in, close enough to kiss you, raises his right hand and runs his finger tips down your face.

"Will you bite my tongue if I kiss you?"

"Maybe"

Sukuna's mouth crashes onto yours, hard, angry, and demanding. He doesn't even give you a chance to resist, not even a breath. His lips are fierce against yours, stealing every breath you try to take. Your hands instinctively move to push him away, but instead, you find yourself gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.

You meet his aggression with equal force, your lips moving furiously against his. His hands cup your face roughly, holding you in place as his tongue demands entry. You respond with a whine, opening up to him, your tongues tangling in a heated dance.

Every kiss is a challenge, every touch a dare. You bite his lower lip, drawing a groan from him that vibrates through you. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. The intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, hot, and angry.

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging sharply as if to remind him you won't be dominated easily. He retaliates by pressing you harder against the cushions, so you have no choice but to melt into him.

In one swift motion, Sukuna pulls back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, revealing muscles lined with black tattoos beneath. Before you can even take a breath, he’s back, his mouth claiming yours with renewed fervor. His hands move to your shirt, fingers pulling at the fabric of your sweater. You break the kiss for a mere second as he tugs your shirt off, then he dives back in, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that makes your head spin.

His hands roam over your newly exposed skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your breath hitches as his fingers find the waistband of your pants. He undoes them with a practiced ease, pushing them down and leaving you in just underwear and bra, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"W-what do you think you're doing?" you stutter, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he replies, his voice low and filled with a wicked amusement.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I'm gonna fuck you." His hands slide over your hips, pulling your pants down completely, and you shiver at the sensation of his touch.

You whine when he places his knee between your legs which pushes against your clothed crotch. You involuntarily buck up your hips to try and gain more friction, making Sukuna chuckle; his shit eating grin widening.

“Needy, arent you?”

Your instinct is to tell him to fuck off, but he is already hooking a finger under your pastel pink panties; pulling the material down to reveal your cunt. You mentally curse yourself at the fact that you're already wet, a fact that will sure to swell Sukuna's ego.

Your hands fly down to hide yourself but he swats them away, giving you a glare before sliding a finger up and down your wet slit; collecting the juices before pushing a digit into your tight hole.

"S-shit." your groan, and the moment you clench around him, a sickening grin spreads across his tattooed face.

"Always knew you where gonna feel great around me."

The first curl of his fingers knocks the wind out of you, as it hits the sweet spot inside of you that you could only dream to reach on your own.

“Hah~ I cant-” You whimper, stomach clenching and legs trembling from the pleasure. You want to say you hate this, tell him to get off of you but you can't, you can't even think straight. You even push your hips out, angling them so his digits reach deeper into that sweet spot that sends tendrils of electricity through your body. But before you can fully bask in the pleasure, before you can taste your orgasm on your tongue, he pulls his fingers out.

"You think I'm gonna let you cum so early? After all the shit you have pulled?" His hand flies to your throat wrapping around it with a force that belies the strength behind it. Your breath hitches, a strange mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through your veins. His touch is firm, and commanding, but there’s an undeniable pleasure in the way his fingers tighten slightly, reminding you of the power he holds.

"Nah no way." Sukuna chuckles "Your just gonna have to suck it up."

You try to speak, but his grip tightens just enough to cut off your words, leaving you gasping. The pressure on your throat is intoxicating, a strange pleasure mingling with the discomfort. You can feel your pulse throbbing under his hand. You are so dazed that you don’t even notice he has pulled out his dick until you feel something big pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so.

You’re about to open your mouth to say something, what, you do not know, but all of a sudden Sukuna pushes his dick into you until his hips are flushed against yours. It feels like you're being split in two, and the way his tip smushes against your cervix makes you unable to find your breath. The unfamiliar feeling has you squirming and clenching around his cock; body desperately trying to push out the foreign intrusion.  

“Shit you gotta loosen up doll, cant fuck you like this.” There were veins popping on his temple as he started to rub tight circles on your clit. Bolts of pleasure shoot up your body, and you desperately try to relax your body.

“Atta girl” He coos, withdrawing his hips before slamming into your.

The first thrust completely knocks the wind out of you. The collision with your gspot has you arching your back of the couch; eyes screwed shut and letting out a loud moan. He's girth spread you so well, so much, and the friction was so delicious, tears blotted your eyesight. Your skin is buzzing, and your entire lower half is shaking from the pleasure. Sukuna's pace is brutal, unforgiving, and he has to grab the arm rest above you with one arm to help his brutal and unforgiving pace into you.

Your mind grows hazy, lost in the sensation of how good he was fucking you, but then, without explanation, a spark of defiance ignites within you. Suddenly, you find the strength to flip him over, his dick not leaving the warmth of your cunt once and so you were effectively laying on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. With your chest flushed against his, and your ass perked up in the air, you begin to fuck yourself on his dick, raising your hips up and down his length as if he was a dildo.

"Oh thats it." Sukuna is not a whining man but here he is, his voice cracking from the feeling and sight of you riding him. "Fuck yourself on me shit shit shit."

You are practically drooling on his chest, your eyes rolling back from how good he felt against your G spot.

You let a whine when you feel yourself start to get tired so Sukuna grabs your hips and starts fucking you on his length.

Fap.Fap.Fap

"Gonna cum in you baby ok?" He murmurs into your ear and you dazedly nod.

Suddenly you feel your stomach dip and your mind go blank. Your mind feels as though it’s been dipped in pure euphoria, thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind, replaced by an overwhelming wave of bliss that drowns out everything else. Your body responds in kind, muscles tensing and releasing in perfect harmony with the pleasure coursing through you. It’s as if every cell is vibrating with delight, your skin tingling with a heightened sensitivity that makes even the slightest touch feel like a divine caress. The heat of the sensation is intoxicating, making your limbs feel weightless as if you’re floating on a cloud of pure, unadulterated joy.

Sukuna is quick to follow, shooting ropes of thick cum that glide down his shaft onto his balls.

"See? We are practically made for each other."

[yurinaa-world]

May i request love and deepspace boys with clingy!reader? Shes shy too!! In public, she'll hold onto his hand or finger and stays quiet but at home she becomes a yapper machine and also likes to plop onto his lap as she talks. Sometimes likes mindlessly squeezing and playing with his meaty bicep too :3

"𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓉"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, & Sylus x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader who's clingy at home and mindlessly touches him

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: I got sickkk 😫 this isn't my usual quality...I'm sorry (it had to be when it's my first post with the 4 lnds guys...Give me another chance!)

💫𝑅𝒶𝒻𝒶𝓎𝑒𝓁 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝒷𝓎𝓈𝓈𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝓇"

He eats it up, watching you act shy in public, grabbing the piece of his shirt or finger whenever you're in public. The second you feel like you're in a comfortable space he watches you unwind, holding onto him so tightly that he’ll just tease you. 

Your pretty self not wanting to let go of him, not even for a glass of water, straddling his lap, and arms wrapped around his neck, hiding in his neck. You're just begging him to tease you so badly. Yet his jaw just drops whenever you unconsciously touch him more. 

While you’re talking about your day, your hands unconsciously go to his chest. aren’t you so handsy? He stops in the middle of your sentence, teasing you so much even bringing up the other times you act shameless with him. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

After such a long day, you can’t help but unload everything you had been feeling the entire day, just going on and on while he puts on his irrelevant commentary—letting gasps and hums, you play with the buttons on his shirt before taking your hands away from his buttons, gently caress his chest while you talk about the climax of your entire day.

“You should have seen her, she was completely soaked and the owner didn’t even say anything even though it was his fault that it happened in the first place!” you chirped—your eyes shining so bright there might be little stars in them—leaning into his face to emphasize your point, he just gasps as if he were there experiencing it. “Oh wow…” he smiles back at you—it looked more like a sly lazy grin plastered on his lips.

“Yeah! And then…”

There you go again switching through topics so fast that he might just start taking notes to understand what you’re talking about. But feel his grin get wider, while your hands shamelessly touch his chest like a creep on the streets.

“If you’re going to shamelessly touch me, at least own up instead of pretending to tell a story.” He grins, snapping you out of your story with an accusation of your character. Your eyes go wide feeling embarrassment pool into your stomach, resulting in your cheeks becoming rosy red as your hands spring back.

“I didn’t mean to touch you like.” you stutter as if he were a cop, while he just enjoys watching you freak out. “You’re such a terrible liar, you’re always touching me, taking advantage of me just because I let you do it once” he sighs dramatically, pinching, and pulling your cheek as if he were an adult lecturing a child—in reality he would be the child…“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Don’t bother, I already know the truth.”

💫𝒵𝒶𝓎𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓇"

He lets you unwind, it’s good for a person to relax after a long day, and you it’s no different—maybe a bit more affection from him while he lets you grasp onto his arms.

Arms wrapped around his one arm while you talk about your day, with a large smile on your face, your body basically sinking into the side of his. He finds it amusing the way you act but what does he expect? You’ve always been like that; it's not like he hates it, he loves it.

He even lets you play with his tie, slowly untying it and fiddling with it as if we’re some kind of toy.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“I didn’t tell you about the craziest thing that happened today.” You realized, switching through topics so fast that he has to put his entire mind onto what you tell him, which he doesn’t mind, he’ll always listen to whatever you have to say. 

Your body against his, sinking into his side with your fingers fiddling with the tie as if it were a toy.

His eyes are loving to them while he listens to your voice with such attentiveness as if he were still taking a midterm exam back while he was a medical student. Just going on and on, telling every part of the story, before stopping to think of another story in the past. “Remember when we were kids!…” there you go again.

He’ll always find it adorable, a small plastered upon his gentle face from your hold speaks for itself.

 “Do you remember that?” 

“Pretty well, I remember another embarrassing thing you used to do, always holding and touching…seems that nothing changed,” he smiles at you, his hand going to withdraw your hand that was fiddled with a tie, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles.

“Your touch still feels more like a medical exam,” he gently teased you, seeing your mouth agape made him love you more.

“Not that I dislike the feeling, I can’t go a day without it.” He reassures, bringing your hand to his heart, making you feel where his heart is.

“You can Continue speaking, I won’t stop you.”

💫𝒳𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓇 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒪𝒻 𝐿𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉"

He just loves to listen to your voice, whether it be a childish story about what happened that day or a drama your friend/coworker told you.

Now it’s no different even if he’s dozing off, his head flinching awake while you straddle his lap. It's fine! He’s not tired! You should keep on talking!

Through his half-lidded eyes looking back at you. Your touches might be the thing that brings him towards the border of going to sleep and staying awake, how dangerous you are.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“And then she left her boyfriend for her boss,” you gushed, leaning into his face to exaggerate the story more while he looked back at you with his tired gaze, “can you believe it, Xavier? And you know what her boyfriend did!” you exclaimed, he can’t help but let out a yawn.

“What did he do?” he asked sluggishly, his arms snaking their way up your waist, he might just be going in and out of sleep, every time he slowly closed his eyes and opens to jump in between different stories or different parts of one long story, yet he couldn’t fall asleep, feeling your hands move around his body.

“Xavier, are you awake?” 

You gently poke his cheek, while he just softly groans before he pushes you into his neck, taking the chance to hide himself in the crook of your neck. 

“You can keep talking…”

💫𝒮𝓎𝓁𝓊𝓈 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒪𝒻 𝒪𝓃𝓎𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓊𝓈"

He’s very “attentive” to your little story about what happened in Linkon that day, with his eyes softly staring at you with that signature smirk. 

You have quite the hands, don’t you? He would think you were robbing him blind with your touches. Just feeling your arms on his bicep, his bicep right against your chest, even if he pulls slightly away, you just pull him back.

He can’t help himself but stare at you like, to the point you notice and stop your story under his gaze.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“So that’s what happened…” he hums, listening to your little stories, grasping tightly on his arm while you laugh at your own story, and the way your lips grin ear to ear. 

“Pity I wasn’t there to see that.” He murmured—the little voice in the back of your head tells that it’s probably not the story he's focused on, cocking his head to the side, watching you go off onto another rant. only for you to cut your story short when you locked eyes with him for too long.

“He…”

“Something wrong?” He tilts his eyebrow with a subtle smirk on his lips, watching your lips pressed together in nervousness. “Well…” you mutter, while he just laughs at your expression. 

“Go on, keep on talking, I'd rather not miss what you were telling me, keep grabbing my arm like that as well.”

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