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anonbinaryweirdo · 1 year

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I WANT TO KNOW EVERYTHING FOR CHAELIVER SOOO HAVE FUN >:)

3, 6, 7, 8, 11, 14, 15, 19, 24, 26, 38, 37, 41, 53, 58, 60, 63, 95, 99, 106, 111

KDLFJDS ALEXIBEARR BIG SISTER <33

(3. When did you get together in your shipping canon?)

oliver met both boys at around the same time, but met childe first ! (id say about a month before meeting kaeya)...so maybe 10-12 months? oli had her heart closed off for a long while, its a miracle they made their way into it in just that amount of time <//3

(6. Who made the first move?)

the boys did !! obviously. oliver avoided them when she realized she caught feelings (she fell first, and fell way too hard <//3). it took her younger sister setting her up to be cornered by the boys for her to get her shit together

(7. What was your first date like?)

kaeya took them both on a little date that consisted of walking around mondstat, then they went out for drinks to a restaurant before heading home !

(8. When did you first say "I love you" to each other?

i feel childe was the first to say it to both kaeya and oliver, and he says it a lot! it didn't take long for kaeya to follow after, but it did take quite some time for oliver to even say "love" to either of them..."some time" as in a few months (unspecified amount), much to the boys' disappointment. but, she did end up saying she loved them eventually--as a shy little slip. they were ecstatic (especially because of how embarrassed she was afterkjkdfj)

(11. First impressions of each other?)

oliver hated childe LMFAO enemies to lovers !! they met through the traveller, and she immediately hated him upon finding out he was apart of the fatui--a harbinger no less. always glaring at him, being aggressive (not passive-aggressive. just aggressive.), always trying to put him down, absolutely demolishing him if he got too close or touchy... childe, being him, took this as a challenge to get under her skin a lot more >:)) especially because of how strong she was??? ma'am.

oliver waltzed into kaeya's office and (at first, nicely) demanded for information the knights were gatekeeping, and eventually got fed up with his kaeyaness and tomfoolery and stole the documents lol. he didn't find her til about a week later when she acted like she had no idea who he even was (average oliver girlbossing activities)

(14. What initially attracted you to them versus what they were attracted to?)

shes convinced shes into dumbasses/j LMAO but no fr, for childe; it was how stubborn (never gonna get this out of her yourself) and family-orientated he was. she puts her family above everything else, too, willing to do anything it takes for them, and it's not so often she meets people who do the same for theirs. especially not a harbinger of all people. perhaps she's made judgements about his character too soon?

and for kaeya, it has to be just how deep his character actually is. not only that, but, like childe, he reminds her some of amethyst and her character...except he's more closed off and masked. it was something in her that wanted to get to know him behind to mask, rather than what he showed. she didn't know or understand why, she just did.

as for what attracted them to her, for childe; it had to be how "hard-to-get" she always was -- especially around him. not only that, but, of course, her strength. he finds her as someone worth fighting, and always tried to get her to spar with him every chance he could. he was surprised when she gave criticism the first time, even though she was pretty mean with it, practically insulting his every move and breath. still, she somehow managed to help him improve, so why wouldn't he be attracted to her?

as for kaeya; i feel it had to be how mysterious she actually was on the inside,, just like him. he knew, when he first met her, there was more to her than meets the eye--more than just some strong, stoic woman playing hard-to-get with everyone she came across that tried their luck. it was like the hurt little boy inside him felt the presence of a hurt little girl deep inside herself, and wanted nothing more but to reach out to her, even though it would be a tough fight to get past the impossible walls she's built up over the years.

(15. How do you match up with your first crushes?)

i dunno what this means 😔

(19. How publicly affectionate are you? Is it cringe, embarrassing, or do you love PDA?)

oliver is a touch-starved baby, and secretly really enjoys pda...but prefers to not initiate the first move. she'll find herself reaching out to link pinkies with one of her partners, only to shyly link her hands behind her back as soon as she reaches out. she's pretty frustrated by how shy and embarrassed she gets so easily,,, it's not that she thinks pda itself is embarrassing--she just cant bring herself to ever bring the first move. but whenever her partner does it for her (like, all the time), her face does heat up quite a bit, but she lets it happen, and even sighs a little sigh of relief when it happens.

(24. What's a gift that you've given each other that means a lot to you?)

okay okay, so, oliver being the little indoors kid she was with her siblings, learned a lot of things! one of those, being making bracelets for people she deems worthy of such affections/hj. when she got more comfortable with kaeya and childe, she spent her time making bracelets for them, and put their initials on them (k + o, a + o, and k + o + a for herself, because she wanted them to match). she approached them with her head down, and shoved the bracelets in their hands, and very quickly walking away right after. they had to chase her down just to thank her <//3 its something they all cherish SO much, especially the boys :33

(26. What's 'your song' with them? Does it remind you of each other, or have special memories attached to it?)

i dont do too good with linking songs to characters unless it involves something that'll help me stir up the angst in their lore, i apologize

(38. What is a guilty pleasure/something that you'd be embarrassed to tell them about, but want to share?)

whenever she knows that they'll be gone for a long while, she wears their clothes all over the house, and if they're, like, out of mondstat, she'll wear a piece of their clothing when she's going out...the townsfolk dont say anything though <3. she refuses to sleep on her own pillow when they're gone, instead sleeping on one of their pillows, while holding the other. uses their cologne when they're gone. (except, in contrast to the ask, she'd die before she shares any of this with them)

(37. If you're away from each other, what do you prepare for each other? Welcome back gifts, setting time aside, etc.)

i dont think kaeya would be gone for as long as childe and oliver would be, so; whenever it's kaeya and childe waiting for olivers long awaited return, they clean up the house beforehand, prepare a bath and food (because they both know damn well oliver has NOT eaten for as long as she's been out. if she was out for like a few weeks to a month or two, chances are she's only eaten like three times the entire time), or, they'll plan a date: if oliver's too tired by the time she gets home, then after she eats and bathes (nothing but princess treatment), she goes into their bedroom where there is rose petals all over the sheets and three bottles of wine on the nightstand + candles. she murmurs about how dramatic they are while cuddling w/ them, and it makes them happy :>

as for oliver and kaeya; they definitely cook for childe, which was, surprisingly, olivers idea. just because she hardly eats, doesn't mean she can't cook !! they make his favorites, even though it takes a while. but seeing his tired little freckled face brighten up at the smell of whatever was brewing up in the kitchen was always worth it :D. they talk for a bit while childe eats, but if childe wants them to eat too, then they will (they make oliver eat, but only if they know she hasnt eaten all day). then childe gets to decide what else they wanna do for the rest of the night, and they'll gladly oblige! (an immediate no from oliver if it has anything to do with fighting)

(41. What are your names saved as in each other's phones?)

modern au lesogoOOOOIGHjbns aight so, oliver probably changes their contacts based on how much they irritated her last, and, chances are, childe's nickname 80% of the time is "Ginger. Do not answer." but by default? "Ajax 💚" or "Kaeya 💚". or "Manchild(e) + Kaeya/derogatory" because that is something i would do

kaeya has her down as "My Princess 🩵" and childe as "My Prince 🩵" probably

as for childe i have no clue. its a wild card. guess.

(53. What do your sleeping arrangements look like? Do you sleep together, or in separate beds?)

ever since oliver asked them to let them move into her house, they're always sleeping together. it used to didn't matter where they slept, but oliver would wake up on the floor or under the bed so they put her in the middle so she wouldn't accidentally kill herself with how messy a sleeper she was <//3. childe is such a blanket hog istg. now, kaeya can probably sleep without blankets (psychopath), but if oli doesnt have anything covering her, he'll have to take the blankets back from childe and make him share,, childe does half-wake up with an eepy little apology and covers oliver though, and its cute it gets both of them a kiss on the forehead from eyepatch man <33

(58. When you go shopping, who takes the longest? Who's the worst to shop with?)

oliver and childe are s t a c k e d with mora, so they prefer spoiling each other + kaeya. between the two, it's a race to see who can steal/hide the other's wallet before they leave the house to see who gets dibs on paying for everything. its so amusing to watch omg <//3. if childe has to suffer not paying for anything, then. oh my god. him and kaeya take the longest time in the store. checking every outfit and every little accessory, both for themselves AND oliver. literally drags her around to find as many matching items as they can. they're lucky she has money and loves them (she guesses) or else she'd tel them put EVERYTHING back istg

if it was oliver that couldn't bring her wallet, she wouldn't get much, really. she'd help kaeya and childe shop around, and accept whatever they pciked out for her, but other than that, she herself doesnt buy much. to make up for that, she lets them shove her into the dressing room multiple times just to try on the outfits they think she'd look good in (they're convinced she looks good in anything but she doesnt believe it fr)

(60. When you take pictures together, how do you pose? Do you like taking pics together?)

oliver doesn't like pictures, and tries to cover herself whenever one is on her. and the boys, of course, takes this as a challenge to sneak up on her as many times as they possibly can >:) but she honestly doesnt mind it when they mush her next to them for a picture, and, while she wont admit that, the way she ""SUBTLY"" looks at them so softly in the final picture is enough for them to know. i feel like its mostly selfies, but when they do do silly things, they have to quite literally beg oliver to partake in the silly activities, because she will refuse otherwise <//3 they have to plead for her to even do the thing with her hair where you pretend to have a mustache (childe i kid you not cut off a piece of his hair just to do this, oliver slapped him). they probably all use kaeyas long ass hair to give all three of them the same blue mustache hehe. you wont catch oliver dead sticking her tongue out in a photo

(63. Do you take care of each other when you're sick? Who's an absolute mess when they're sick?)

i feel that they're all pretty stubborn when it comes to letting the other take care of them, but eventually they give in and lets them coddle them for as long as they're sick !! oliver's definitely the most stubborn about it, and can hide it for probably days until it gets so bad she's ready to die (then gets scolded by the boys like there's no tomorrow). that is- if she's not caught redhanded before it gets bad (probably gaslights her way out of the situation)

CHILDE. when he gets sick he's fucking m i s e r a b l e. dont ask me why i just know. and then, he acts like the BIGGEST. BABY. when sick. if oliver or kaeya isnt spoonfeeding him he wont eat the damn soup point blank period. both him and oliver have it in common when it comes to literally hiding away from their medicine though <//3

if either of the boys refuse to take their medicine or listen to oliver, the glare she gives them is enough to keep them in bed for at least two days dfhdgk

(95. Who is the most supportive of your relationship?)

both oliver and childe's side of the family, and secretly diluc shhhh. only oliver knows that though because they're besties, but he does make subtle comments whenever kaeya's around (not childe. childe can suck it)

olivers mother supports it entirely; she watched kaeya and his brother grow up for a little until they moved to liyue, where oliver and her siblings stayed until adulthood. so she's pretty happy about that! she had mixed feelings with childe at first, but honestly, as long as her princess is happy, she's content with what they have. it takes a while for olivers siblings (i mean ALL of them. her younger sister was already supporting it before they were together) to support either boys,,,skldfjkf especially childe <//3

(99. What's a common misconception about your relationship?)

that the love isn't actually "all there". let me explain;

childe and oliver already practically hated each other at first, and even now she acts as though she can't stand him, but thats only when they're not behind closed doors. in all honesty, she acts like that with pretty much everybody, but its...different, because that's her lover.

personal hc !! kaeya wasn't in any kind of relationship before this one, and only flirted and hit on people every now and then. oliver doesnt really care what either guy does because she wouldn't date them if she didn't put her trust in them at all. so when she acts indifferent to kaeyas flirting (that has toned down a bit, since he's in a committed relationship now), people tend to think she doesnt care at all, and that she wouldnt care if he "cheated" (something i doubt kaeya would ever do in any universe). which is...untrue. entirely. same case scenario for childe??

or that childe is literally a harbinger. with someone who's known to hate anything having to do with the fatui in any sense, and a captain of the knights...this by itself is self-explanatory, but none of it is trueeee

im almost certain that they would absolutely put their lives on the line for one another, and love each other more than words can even express. so even if they did know about this misconceptions, i doubt they'd pay ANY mind to them, because they know how untrue they are. the audacity for someone who doesn't even know about the depths of their love and make assumptions about it anyway is amusing. irritating, but amusing bc they dont care lol they love each other and THEY know they love each other, that's all that really matters :shrug:

(106. If you could give advice to yourselves when you started, what would you say to each other?)

"What they make us feel has been, and will always be much more stronger than any fight with a strong enemy ever's made us feel. Eventually, you'll learn that you have to start picking fights carefully, not only for your own sake, but theirs. They're more important to us than any adrenaline rush will ever be. They are the rush. Except it never goes away."

"Stop being so scared to trust your heart. You don't always have to listen to your head, you know. It's okay to love them. It's perfectly fine to love. You'll have to let down your walls eventually. It took us way longer than it should have to do just that. So stop running away from your feelings and just love them like we know we want to."

"There's no need to be so afraid of making the right or wrong choice. You'll know which one you've made, as long as you've still got them with you through and by the end of everything. Remember; they're our choice, our decision, at the end of the day. Always has been. It just took a while to figure that out. Don't worry about hiding who we are. Not with them."

(111. What does this self-ship mean to you?)

a lot. its a huge comfort ship, and it's helped me get through a bunch. i love them like i would do a real person, and that itself should say a lot about how i feel about them as a character. i absolutely adore them, and i hope i always will 💚

#ALEXISSS KISSES YOU AUFGDSFIUHYGJ #AAAAAAAAa #THIS WAS FUN TO DOOOO #THANK YOU MLLL <333 #📬 letter received !#📨 sincerely; alexis !#< my alexibear 3 #💝 oc/selfships...chaeliver !#oli selfships

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rosylamb · 1 year

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You are like a fairy crossed with an angel 🥰

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。🤍༊*·˚ ⋆˙⊹ !

　ﾟ･｡･

Aw!

This is *so* sweet . . !

What have I done to deserve such a nice compliment? ♡

(And how did you know how much I love fairies??)

This makes me feel really happy inside . . thank you so much, my friend !!

Honestly, I think it’d be neat to be one! Then I could be a fairy who helps people hehe. c:

Or just having angel wings would be sooo pretty ! I do still think they should be baby pink though ♡

Sending many hugs & much love your way!

You’ve truly made me smile a lot today — so I hope that something nice happens & makes you smile, too ~ ! ! ! XO

🎀 ✿﹒﹒♡ ⋆˙⊹ 🕊️ 🤍

#<3 #ask #angelfairy rosie ! ! !#i would like to be one c:#imagine how neat that would be ???#you could help so many people & have such fancy wings ..#this makes me smile hehe :D #so thank you most sincerely ! <333 #i hope you have a good day today friend !#and that only happy& wonderful things happen to you !!#all the best to you — take care ! <333 #xo ! <3 #♡ ˚⁎⁺˳ ೃ 🤍 🎀

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oldfacesnewdawnoffical · 2 years

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This project is so cool. Just thinking about it and had to send a ask

🥺 I’ll cry

#old faces new dawn #sincerely thank you so much <333 #praise and compliments are my driving force lmao #ask #nightly-ruse

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notaboutmyfries · 1 year

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everyday i log onto this hellhome and miss spanglebangle

#spanglebangle you were such a delight to the fandom #and I sincerely hope that you come back to it one day #even if it's just so we can thank you for all of the lovely things you've written #sending you so much love wherever you are in the world <333

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000-pawz · 3 months

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press play! (bnd) ˚ · .

bnd as male leads , ot6 , fluff , slight angst , movie/film tropes, loosely (!!!) inspired by random movies/dramas/books i've seen and read (with song recs <3)

more under the cut!

a/n: me pretending that all of these are real dramas so i can escape into my silly little fantasy land >___^ <3 also thank you so much for 400+ followers!!! i know i haven't been as active lately, but seeing the sweet messages in my inbox and your genuine reblogs keeps me going for sure. i don't deserve all of this love and support, and yet, i've managed to find my place here. thank you guys!!! my little strawberries ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆<333

sungho ˚ ⋆｡˚ - the "i have no idea why i like you, but i do" lead

university, streetlights, jackets, sunsets, fond eye rolls, sharing books, lunch dates, faint smiles, polar opposites, long calls, gardens, bouquets, lattes, butterflies

to put it simply, you are somehow everything sungho tries his best to avoid in life. disorganization, clumsiness, carelessness, and above all, making a fool of himself; four things you seem to have perfected. you always show up to lectures 30 minutes late, panting heavily as you clutch your backpack to your chest. your professor and everyone else in your course is used to your tardiness by now, so no one bats an eye—but when the only available seat left is next to sungho himself, he starts to mind. first, you ask him for a pencil, and then, you ask him what’s going on, and then you ask him how his handwriting is so neat. sungho responds to you in curt words, never sparing a glance your way as he tries his best to keep his focus on the lecture. but you keep. asking. him. questions.

he knows that you aren’t dumb. you somehow managed to get accepted into this school under a rigorous major, and you haven’t dropped out so far, so there’s no way you don’t know how to keep up. in a way, he sees you as a little yapping chihuahua who laughs way too loudly, and he sighs everytime you wave brightly to him across campus, cupping your hands around your mouth to tell him to wait up so you guys can walk to class together. it seems as if you’ve already claimed yourself to be his friend after your limited, brief interactions. great.

somehow you always manage to find him when he's studying at a cafe, pulling out the chair in front of him to plop down and pester him about what he's up to (and you always manage to convince him to buy you coffee just so you can leave sooner). you purposefully take the spot next to him everytime you show up to class, nudging hi sfoot under the table so you can pull a funny face at him or sneak him a lollipop under the table.

sungho likes to believe that he’s indifferent to you. you’re just another obstacle he has to navigate through in order to finish his day. but he realizes you may have struck a little deeper into his heart than he originally thought when he notices you sitting solemnly on a bench on his walk back to his apartment. you’re dressed up in a nice outfit and he can tell you’ve put in a lot of effort to your appearance, but under the glow of the streetlights, he notices your smeared mascara and wet cheeks, your purse clutched tightly between your fingers. you’re mumbling to yourself as you fiercely wipe at your face with the back of your hand, something about “that asshole” and how you’re “so dumb”. sungho doesn’t know what comes over him as he hears those words, but he finds himself stopping directly in front of you, watching as you slowly tilt your head up to meet his eyes.

“you’re not dumb,” he says, staring down at you with such sincerity. you sniffle a bit, tilting your head at his figure in a confused manner.

“sungho? what are you doing here?” you ask quietly, your voice shaky as you try to stop your tears.

“you aren’t dumb,” he repeats again. “it’s late. you shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

you don’t respond other than blinking owlishly at him. in this moment, he realizes how beautiful your eyes are, glimmering despite the tears pooling at your waterline. a cord in him strikes; he doesn’t like seeing you without a smile on your face.

sungho shrugs off his jacket before leaning down to drape it over your shoulders, giving you a soft smile before offering his hand out to you. “may i walk you home?”

and from that day on, sungho seems to have opened up his heart to you. he asks if you want to visit a cafe after class, helps you catch up in schoolwork, his eyes lingering on your bright smile—and each minute he spends with you, he falls for you more and more. he’s not sure how you feel about him; he can’t read you quite yet, and he’s not quite sure why he likes you so much, but he thinks it’ll be worth the wait, as long as he gets to be by your side.

˚ ⋆｡˚ riwoo - the "i'll look after you, no matter what" lead

bustling city, dinner dates, gentle hands, puppies, headlights, midnight talks, watching the stars, wishes upon dandelions, breakfast in bed

it’s riwoo’s second year working at this company—and subsequently, his second year dealing with his inconsiderate seniors and selfish boss. so when you, the new, sparkly-eyed intern, are assigned two giant stacks of paperwork to go through on your first day, riwoo immediately empathizes with you. when it starts to grow dark and most of your coworkers begin clocking out, you find yourself trapped at your tiny desk with at least 3 more hours worth of work to do.

you’re basically falling asleep, your eyelids slipping shut every few seconds before you finally doze off. riwoo watches you from across the office and some part of him feels guilty at the thought of leaving you all alone here. so instead, he makes you a cup of coffee and brings you a snack, placing it quietly at your desk. he even leaves a few sugar packets next to the mug because he’s unsure of how sweet you like your drink.

and then he waits. he exhaustedly types away at his keyboard, his knee bouncing under his desk to keep himself awake. you finally wake up an hour later with a tiny yawn, stretching in your chair before sleepily blinking at the scene in front of you. he watches as your eyes widen at the coffee and snack before looking around the office, locking eyes with him above his computer screen. he gives you a small smile and wave, to which you return, mouthing out a ‘thank you’. if you’re going to be working overtime, he’ll be there with you.

and it becomes a thing. riwoo makes sure you eat as you work through the mistreatment from your boss, comforting you when you stress cry in the breakroom, taking you out for dinner when you clock out and making sure you get home safe with a small reminder to get some sleep. you find yourself falling his selflessness. he works through those sleepless nights with you, cheering you on with shy smiles and quiet encouragement. before you know it, riwoo becomes your rock.

as you wait for the bus to head home, riwoo jogs up to you, his chest rising and falling quickly as he attempts to catch his breath.

“riwoo, hi,” you greet with a small, tired smile. riwoo’s cheeks are flushed red, his hands tucked deep into his pockets as he returns your smile with a weak one.

“hey, y/n. i just, um… i wanted to ask you something before you leave…” he starts, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. your bus is nearing your stop in the distance, so you stand, adjusting the bag on your shoulder.

“yeah, what’s up?” you ask, meeting riwoo’s eyes. they’re big and round, glossy as the headlights of passing cars speed by. your heart flutters in your chest at just the sight of him.

“i was wondering if i could take you out? on a date, i mean,” he stumbles out, pressing his lips into a thin line once the words escape.

“like a date date?” you clarify. you guys hang out all the time and you have to admit that you’ve started to want more. riwoo is the sweetest, most giving person you’ve ever met and you think you’re already in too deep.

“yeah. a date date.” at his words, your entire face lights up, quickly nodding your head as you answer.

“i would love to.” right then, your bus pulls up to a stop, so you give him a tiny smile, motioning toward the doors. “ i’ll call you when i get home, okay?”

“okay. yeah,” he breathes out with the brightest smile on his lips. “get home safely.”

“i will!” you wave enthusiastically through the doors before they close behind you and riwoo watches you through the windows with a small smile until your bus disappears down the road, his heart light in his chest.

from there, one date turns into two. and then two into three. and then suddenly, you’re at his apartment playing with his puppies while he cooks you guys breakfast, the sunlight beaming through his sheer curtains. even if the weight of the world is falling on your shoulders, you deem it impossible to feel down around your ray of sunshine.

riwoo always waits with you for your bus, letting you rant to him about your day, or things you're interest in, or to just tease him about how he dropped a stack of papers that day. and you never forget to text him when you get home, going to sleep with a smile on your face as you reread the long paragraph he sends to you about how proud he is of you and how he can't wait to see you tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. in this big city full of hustle, bustle and noise, he is your solace.

jaehyun ˚ ⋆｡˚ - the "everyone wants me, but i want you" lead

road trips, rooftop hangouts with friends, bright smiles, street vendors, shared hoodies, soccer games, skateboards, sparklers, bonfires, sunny days

ever since you moved onto campus for university, you’ve had a crush on myung jaehyun. from his silly smiles, to his friendly nature, to his cute nose and cheeks. you like everything about him. the only problem is that everyone loves myung jaehyun—in fact, you can’t name a single person that doesn’t know and love him. so you’ve managed to keep your feelings to yourself for the longest.

you were in the same friend group from the very start, with your roommate dating his roommate, the intermingling of your circles was bound to happen. and in all honesty, you couldn’t wish for a better group of people to be around. you guys always go on road trips together, visiting different cities and towns to sightsee and explore. you attend jaehyun’s soccer games with your friends, cheering him on from the sidelines only to celebrate with drinks in someone’s dorm room after another win. the proximity is inevitable, and the first two years of college pass by before you can even blink. by the end of your second year, you and jaehyun became closer than you would’ve ever thought. but it always remained at that. close friends.

it’s the night of your friend group’s annual bonfire—something you’ve been looking forward to all year. you’ve been worrying about your future: what would happen when you graduate college, whether you would move away or not, would jaehyun ever like you back. but mid-summer is your favorite, especially when the tide is low, everyone has sparklers and drinks, and the night air is light and fun. your bathing suit clings to your skin after your friends had splashed sea water on your earlier, but you don’t mind it. it’s a break from your own thoughts.

you notice jaehyun sitting in the sand near the bonfire, shivering a bit, so you grab an abandoned blanket from someone else’s chair and skip over to him. when you drape it over his shoulders from behind, he looks up at you, his eyes scrunching up with the smile that overtakes his face at the sight of you.

“hey,” he speaks, looking you up and down. you feel your body heat up under your skin, returning the smile with a small one of your own before taking a seat next to him.

“hey. you okay?” you ask, your eyes searching his face. usually, jaehyun is at the center of all the action, but tonight, he seems quieter than usual. the bonfire is warm on your skin, illuminating the sand in front of you.

“yeah, i’m okay. just thinking,” he says weakly, flashing you a tiny smile before looking back at the fire.

“about what?” you pry, bumping him with your shoulder. he looks especially good tonight, with his wet hair and soaked t-shirt, his tanned skin washed in a hue from the fire. you’re snapped out of your gazing when he speaks, though.

“you,” he says bluntly. he doesn’t look at you, but you’re staring holes into the side of head.

“what about me?” you nearly whisper, your voice almost drowned out by the loud laughter of your friends at the shore. jaehyun watches the fire for a bit before he turns to look at you again, his eyes glimmering with something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“how pretty you look. how pretty you always look,” he says. you scoff at his words, bumping his shoulder again.

“stop playing around, jaehyun. i almost thought you were being serious,” you nervously laugh, looking down at the sand.

“but i am,” he replies quickly. “i am being serious. you’re beautiful.”

when you meet his eyes again, they’re boring into yours with an intensity you’ve never felt before. something so foreign and yet familiar at the same time. you can’t do anything but whisper a thank you before your friends are rushing over to drag you guys back to the water. some part of you is unsure of whether that was just another passing comment made by jaehyun. he jokingly flirts with his friends all the time. what difference would it be when it’s towards you?

but when jaehyun texts you the next morning to meet him on the beach, and you see an entire picnic set up with flowers on the sand, you realize that maybe he wasn’t joking. he’s standing there with his arms awkwardly spread out in a ‘ta-da’ manner, a shy smile on his lips as you near him. the sun isn’t fully risen yet, so the sky is still slightly orange near the horizon. he looks softer like this, with his puffy morning cheek and his messy hair.

he confesses that your friends gave him the extra push to confess and helped him set everything up for you. over chocolate covered strawberries and french toast, he finally confesses that he’s had a crush on you this entire time and almost went crazy from keeping it a secret. the morning started with shy gazes, soft touches, and laced fingers as the ocean waves lulled you. with your head rested on his shoulder, you finally feel content. maybe the future won’t be so bad.

˚ ⋆｡˚ taesan - the "everything sucks, except you" lead

big school, skipping stones, handwritten notes, late-night bus rides, comfortable silence, dirty shoes, convenience stores, headphones, lingering gazes

han taesan always tries to stay out of the spotlight. he keeps his head down, his hood up, and his headphones on—in a way, he feels like if he can disappear from other people’s lives, it wouldn’t be so hard to disappear from himself either. he doesn’t have any friends, and if anything, people seem to act like he doesn’t exist at all. he’s okay with that. it’s comfortable. that is, until you come along.

he’s not sure how he’s never noticed you at first. maybe it’s because you’re just like him; you stay out of the way, you don’t speak to anyone, and you’re simply going through the motions. he’s not even sure if you go to the same school. he first sees you on a late bus ride home, near the back. your head is leaning on the window, your face blank and solemn, with one earbud in your ear as you watch the passing city through a blur. taesan doesn’t know what it is about you that intrigues him. let it be the way your sweater is a few sizes too big, or the melancholic look in your eyes, or the way those same eyes meet him from across the bus, piercing and inquisitive.

he sees you again at the convenience store a week later, pushing around noodles in a cup with your cheek in your palm, staring down at your food with no intentions of taking a bite. even in the harsh lighting of the store, your face stops him in his tracks. your eyes follow him as he pretends to not notice your stare, his heart pounding in his ears with every movement. and when he makes it up to the counter to pay, you’re gone, as if you were never there in the first place.

he doesn’t see you again for a while; not until he runs into you on his walk home, sitting on a swing at a vacant park. your shoelaces are untied, and you’re watching the way they flow in the wind. your unreadable gaze intrigues him in ways he’s never felt before. he’s always told himself to not get involved, to not get attached, and to not get in the way. but his feet seem to have a mind of their own as they drag themselves towards you. the sound of his shoes against concrete catches your attention, and he watches with shallow breaths as you lift your head to face him.

“your… your shoes are… um, untied,” he stutters out, moving his headphones to rest around his neck before pointing at your laces. you don’t say anything, but you do follow his gaze down to your shoes, cocking your head.

“can you tie them for me?”

the request is odd, especially for the first words he ever hears you speak, but he finds himself unable to decline. he kneels down by your shoes before taking a quick glance up at your face, his palms growing sweaty with the way you watch him. with shaky fingers, he helps you tie your shoes before he stands back up, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“you, um… i see you around a lot. what’s your name?” he doesn’t know why he asks, but some part of him is overwhelmed by curiosity. he knows why he is the way he is, but with you… you’re an anomaly that eats at his mind. he wants to know you.

“y/n,” you say quietly, looking up at him from your position on the swing. taesan nods with pursed lips, averting his gaze for a second.

“i’m taesan.” when he speaks, the corners of your lips perk up ever so slightly, nodding softly in acknowledgement. something about your faint smile makes his stomach churn and his head spin. he decides then and there that he would like to see you more often; and subsequently, your smile too.

“nice to meet you, taesan.”

“nice to meet you, too. y/n.”

from there, you guys meet every now and then. taesan likes to place his headphones over your ears to show you new songs, and you like to share earbuds on the bus ride home together. he slips little notes about his day in your pocket before you get off with a little p.s. to meet him at the park before sunset. you pick clovers and tie them together to make bracelets, sitting on the swings as you bounce conversation back and forth.

there’s no judgment from the outside world in the little bubble that you’ve created with him. and if he starts falling for you with every curious gaze and passing smile, he barely notices the shift. with you , existing becomes natural. there’s no guilt, or shame, or need to hide from yourself. it’s you both against the world.

leehan ˚ ⋆｡˚ - the "i wouldn't mind living with you" lead

new to town, seashell necklaces, oceanviews, birds in trees, sunrises, midday strolls, the youngests in the neighborhood, cooking together, white t-shirts + flannels

it’s not easy living in a new town, far away from the city that you grew up in, but you can’t bring yourself to regret anything. you wake up the the sound of beach waves and boats docking, the grandmas of the neighborhood leave fresh food on your doorstep, and you get to gawk at the beautiful man that always seems to be at the shore collecting seashells. he’s the only person near your age in the entire town, but for some reason, you haven’t spoken to him yet. maybe it’s because of the way that he’s always alone at the shore, or running around the town helping everyone he can.

leehan, they call him. a few of the grandmas have encouraged you to talk to him, saying that it’d do him well to have a friend his age. yet, something about him is unapproachable—let it be because of his long wavy hair or those flannels he wears way too often. you can’t place your finger on it. so you stick to admiring his bright smile from afar, taking in the way he speaks with fishermen as if he grew up in the water himself, or the way he assists the grandmas in caring their groceries home. he’s entrancing, moving with swiftness and speaking with intention. an aura of confidence follows him around like a glowing shadow. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a small, small crush on him by now.

you sit at the beach with your knees pulled up to your chest, the soft breeze kissing your cheeks as you gaze out at the water, the sun sparkling against its gentle waves. moments like these remind you why you moved here. your escape. although, you’re too wrapped up in soaking up the atmosphere to notice the figure moving to sit beside you, and the clinking of seashells is what pulls you out of your trance. you jump a bit at the sun block of sunshine, shielding your eyes to look up at the culprit.

the handsome, handsome culprit who’s currently holding something out towards you with a small smile on his lips, the wind blowing his long hair into his face. in the midst of your shock, you manage to drag your eyes down to his hand—it’s a handmade necklace, made of white string and polished shells from the shore. the shells are an assortment of light blues, whites, and pinks, perfectly complimenting each other, replicating where the setting sun meets the sea. it’s gorgeous.

“made something for you,” he starts, his smile lopsided and charming. his head is cocked in a playful way, his eyes slightly squinted from the bright sun. he’s even more gorgeous up close. “y/n, right?”

“uh, yeah,” you stutter out, too distracted by the way the sun hits his face so perfectly.

“i realized i haven’t given you a proper welcome yet,” leehan speaks as he hands you the necklace, his voice deep and gentle. your eyes flickered back up to his sparkling ones, quickly shaking your head in dismissal.

“oh! no, it’s okay. i’ve seen you around enough times,” you laugh as you avoid his eyes again, running your fingers over the shells. leehan hums in response, his eyes watching your fingers. alone like this, up close, his atmosphere is affable and soft—nothing like the unapproachable man you’ve seen from afar.

“so, are you liking it here? i heard you moved from the city.”

“i do like it here, actually. i couldn’t ask for more,” you speak, finding his eyes again. leehan’s are curious, sincere, and inviting in all the ways that makes you want to keep speaking. so you do. you tell him about why you came here, how you’re starting a-new and leehan, with a wide smile, offers to be your personal guide around town.

you end up meeting up every morning for a walk by the beach, watching the sunrise as you exchange stories about anything and everything. leehan teaches you how he makes necklaces from seashells, his favorite recipes to cook, and where to find the quietest spots in town when you just need a break from it all. you’re falling for him—with his chivalrous, kind-hearted nature and warm smile—but you don’t mind it at all. you really do like it here; especially if he’ll be around too.

˚ ⋆｡˚ woonhak - the "i'm secretly in love with my best friend" lead

small town, childhood best friends, neighbors, growing up together, coming of age, grassy fields, tiny markets, bicycles, fireflies, shorts + graphic tees

woonhak's big smile has been a constant in your life for as long as you can remember. some of your earliest members are of making mudpies and catching fireflies in jars together, playing tag in the long grassy fields that border your town. you guys are partners in crime, drawing silly pictures in chalk outside of your neighbor’s houses or riding your bikes down to the store to buy all of the mango popsicles in stock with your pocket money.

in your eyes, woonhak is just… woonhak. he is familiar. existing with woonhak was as easy as breathing to you. you remember teasing him when you lost your first tooth before him because it proved that you were going to be more mature than him, or when you took your training wheels off first.

your parents are best friends, and it also helps that he lives directly next to you. you guys have sleepovers all the time, using flashlights under the blankets as you pull funny faces at each other, sharing stories about past crushes or what show you’re currently watching. woonhak knows everything about you and you know everything about him.

your favorite spot to meet up is the flower field behind your house. the grass is so tall, it reaches up to woonhak’s chest, the flowers spotting the green with blooms of yellows, pinks, and purples. it’s quiet there, and you guys are free to discuss whatever and whoever. that’s where you are when you’re watching the stars one night with woonhak by your side, his arms tucked behind his head. you mirror him as you talk about something woonhak did earlier that week.

“you’re so cute, hakkie. still the same after all these years,” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand so your voice doesn’t echo too loud. at your words, woonhak sighs, a big one that catches your attention. “huh? what’s wrong?”

woonhak shakes his head, looking straight up at the sky. “i just… sometimes you say things and it reminds me that you still see me as a kid.”

you turn your head toward him at that in confusion. “what are you talking about?”

“y/n, what am i to you? honestly.” his words come out so quick, you don’t have time to linger on the sharpness in his voice.

“you’re… you’re my best friend, woonhak,” and you’re telling the truth. the answer is simple. woonhak is your best friend.

woonhak is silent for a bit, the crickets and frogs in the distance filling in the lack of noise. his gaze is far off as he stares up at the night sky, his body framed by grass and flowers. for the first time in your life, you can’t read his mind and it terrifies you.

“we are best friends, right?” when he remains silent and your heart drops a bit. “woonhak?”

suddenly then, he turns his head towards you, the side of his face illuminated by the glow of moonlight. his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, his cheeks flushed red from the humidity of summer nights.

“what if i wanted to be more than that?” he whispers, his gaze locked intensely on yours. you feel your heart stop in your chest, your palms growing sweaty from more than just the heat.

“more… more than best friends…?” you repeat dumbly. it’s as if you’re short-circuiting, all of the words that were once on your tongue dying off one by one.

“i…” woonhak sighs dejectedly, turning back up to face the sky. “i like you. i like like you. a lot.”

at the words, something in you clicks. something about the way your eyes always linger on his bright smile when he shows up on your doorsteps at the crack of dawn. something about the way your stomach churned when that girl from fourth period asked woonhak out last year. something about the way he links your pinkies together when you walk side by side, and the way he cups your face when you cry to him, and the way he holds you with so much security and love.

your lips move faster than your mind, sitting up quickly to look down at him with a wide grin. “i like you too. i like like you, woonhak. a lot. too.”

you aren’t sure what any of this means for your relationship, or for your future—but as woonhak laces your fingers together to press a small kiss to the back of your hand, any worry or doubt dissolves with the wind. you’re here now with him and for you, that could be more than enough. more than you’ve ever dreamed of.

reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3

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moonstruckme · 10 months

Note

Hi lovely!!! As I mentioned earlier, I apologize again do sending so many asks, I'm sick and stuck at home rn, so my brain has been working on overtime, so if I have an idea and think u might like it, I am sending them lol.

I wanted to know if u could write spencer x bau!reader, where reader is a technical analyst with Penelope for the team. But the last case was a pretty big one and she ended up sacrificing her sleep and needs to Penelope and everyone else could rest? So now that the case is over shes beng kinda stubborn and doesn't really wanna adress it, nor rest till she finishes the few remaining things?

Like always, you don't gotta write anything I request!!! I hope you've had a good week so far and get plenty of rest lol <333

Sincerely, :]

Hi sweetheart! No worries, send as many as you like! I'm just answering them at my own pace :)

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 876 words

“Hello my favorite genius.” Penelope snags Spencer by his sleeve just as he’s about to step into the elevator, using his momentum to swing him around and start him back the other direction. “I need you to get your ladylove out of my office—” she winces. “Our office. Sorry. Old habits, they do die hard.”

“She’s still here?” Spencer asks, having learned long ago how to bulldoze through the fluff of conversations with Garcia. “I thought she’d be home already.”

“Oh, no,” she says gravely, voice dropping to a whisper as they near the tech room. “I don’t think she’s been there in days. You cannot say anything, but she’s starting to smell.”

Spencer prepares himself for the worst as the door opens, but all he finds is you, cute if a little bedraggled, hunched over your keyboard.

“Hi,” he says tentatively when your glassed-over eyes don’t leave the screen. Your face is awash in blue light, blank but for the determined pinch of your mouth as you work. “Ready to go home?”

“You can’t kick me out,” you say. Spencer blinks in surprise and a bit of hurt at your blunt tone before he realizes you aren’t speaking to him. “You can’t make him kick me out, either. I just have a few things left to do.”

“Very admirable work ethic,” Penelope shoots back, her own voice chipper with a steel edge, “but you’ve done plenty. We can finish this tomorrow.”

You don’t stop typing even for a second. “Go home, Pen.”

She gives Spencer an emphatic, helpless look behind your back, and he nods, signaling for her to go. She backs out of the room with her hands held up in front of her like she’ll need to ward you off, grabbing her bag and shutting the door behind her.

“Hey.” Freed from the last constraints of professionalism, Spencer slips into his most honeyed tone. “Let’s get out of here, sweetheart. I’ve got a bed and a fridge full of almost-bad takeout waiting for us at home.”

“Just a couple of things left to do,” you mutter, but your tone is considerably less hard than it had been with Penelope.

“There will always be things left to do.” He walks up behind your chair, setting his hands on your shoulders and his chin on your head. You smell a bit stale, a sure tell you’ve been too long in this room, but nothing so bad as Penelope had warned him about. Just day-old you. “I may not know the full scope of things, but I know you’ve been working really hard on this case. You deserve some rest. You need some rest,” he amends. “Let me drive you home.”

Something like longing flickers across your expression, but then it hardens back into resolve. “Thanks, Spence, but I can drive myself once I’m done.”

Spencer decides to switch tactics. Oftentimes, the best way to get you to accept help is to let you think you’re actually helping someone else. He straightens and takes a couple of quick steps back from your desk with your chair in hand, rolling you with him.

“Hey!” you reach for your keyboard, but Spencer’s already swiveling your seat, turning you to face him.

He sets his hands on the armrests. “Sweetheart, I just got off a four hour flight after a three day case. I’d really like to go home, but I’m not leaving here without you.” The divot between your eyebrows takes on a new character, frustration softening into sympathy. “And you haven’t even let me say a real hello.”

A spark of happiness lights your eyes a second before they fall closed, face tipping up in eager anticipation as Spencer dips down to kiss you. It’s soft and lingering, and you rub your lips together self-consciously after it’s over, realizing how chapped they are. Spencer wonders when the last time you drank water was.

“Sorry,” you say softly. “I didn’t mean to hold you up.”

“You’re not,” he reassures you quickly, wanting you pliant but not guilty. “I mean, I don’t mind. Of course I don’t mind waiting for you. But are you ready to go now?”

You cast a hesitant, skeptical look back at your computer, but Spencer smooths his thumb over the inside of your wrist, and you relent. “Yeah, okay. I just have to come back early tomorrow to finish up.”

Spencer hums noncommittally. He was already planning on disabling your alarms after you’re asleep tonight. You need rest more than the higher-ups need your reports. You stand, grabbing your bag from under your desk and letting him shepherd you towards the door.

“Do you think we could order some new takeout?” you ask him.

“Good idea,” he agrees, somewhat relieved. “The stuff in the fridge has chicken in it, I don’t trust that.”

Your laugh is somewhat lighter than usual, exhaustion setting in now that you’re out of your cave, but Spencer relishes the sound regardless. “Yeah, me neither. Pizza?”

“Pizza,” he confirms.

You make it all the way downstairs before your eyes flare and you spin around. “Shit, I think I left the light—”

“Nope.” Spencer takes you by the shoulders, steering you towards his car. “Someone else will take care of it.”

1K notes · View notes

forlix · 1 year

Text

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞・l.f.

— five times you want to tell your best friend you love him and the time you finally do.

words・7.7k

pairing・idol!felix x gn!reader

genres・fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn w/a happy ending, 5 + 1 trope, idiots in love who are also afraid of love, you do the math

warnings・alcohol consumption, discussions of anxiety, lots of emotional vulnerability, like a surprising amount of crying icl

playlist・jazz bar by dreamcatcher・spring day by bts・through the night by iu・eight by iu ft. suga・house song by searows・not mine by day6

a/n・i borrowed the title of this beautiful day6 song for this fic; give it a listen if you can (especially while reading part four). happy late birthday, lix <333 thank you for being you

One. The door to the café opens with a soft jingle, bringing a chilly draft into the room and causing you to draw your scarf tighter around your shoulders.

Theoretically, you come here to study—but people-watching has become a simultaneous pastime. There was that couple with a pair of samoyeds, so fluffy that they looked like walking clouds; a mother and son, hunched over their croissants, arguing in a classic “don’t cause a scene in public” tone; an elderly woman in bicycle shorts asking for extra shots of espresso in the menu’s most caffeinated item.

And now, there is him.

“Hello,” the ashy-haired stranger says to the barista with a quick, polite bow. “May I have a medium caramel latte? Hot, with sweetener, please. Thank you.”

His voice reminds you of the notes of a cello, of the feeling of running your fingers through tufted velvet. When he turns away from the counter, he’s slipping a card back into his wallet, and you catch a glimpse of long lashes and a scattering of freckles. You cannot see his face, as it’s covered by a black mask, but that only propels the question further: who are you?

And perhaps it is destiny herself who hooks a gentle finger beneath the stranger’s chin and tilts his head upwards, because when he inadvertently steps into a patch of sunlight, his brown irises illuminate like molten amber, and they are fixed upon you.

You feel your lips part, your stomach turn. You don’t know if your cheeks are so warm because of your piping hot tea (your third one today) or because of the newfound eye contact with someone so ethereal.

But you are sure that the corners of the stranger’s eyes crinkle ever so slightly, as if his lips have just curved into a smile beneath his mask.

“Felix,” the barista calls, and you turn the name silently on your tongue.

Maybe you are exhausted from work and not thinking straight. Maybe you are more starved for change than you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’re just prophetic. But you think you sense forever in this man, with his freckled cheeks and pretty eyes.

That is the first time you want to tell Lee Felix you love him.

Two. The second Felix comes into your line of vision, you sense that something is wrong.

You hold up a hand in greeting, and the smile he returns is sincere but muted, as if it pains him to move, to breathe. He sounded weary on the phone earlier—can I see you tonight? Just for a bit—but only now that he’s in front of you do you see the extent of his fatigue, seeping into his sunken shoulders and lightless eyes.

“Hi,” he says once he’s close enough.

“Hey, you,” you answer, rising out of your seat. Instinctively, he extends his arms toward you, and you draw him into a hug that is fleeting and familiar. He smells faintly of laundry detergent and vanilla, and it makes something within you ache, like an oyster searching for its absent pearl.

When you pull away, your hands move to your best friend’s cheeks, cocooning his face so you can get a better look at him. Even under the sparse streetlights, you see that his eyes are slightly bloodshot, the shadows beneath them deep and sullen. Has he been crying?

“Bad day?” You ask, your hands falling back to your sides.

“The worst,” he returns with a weak smile.

“Wanna take a walk?”

“Yes, please. How long do I have you for?”

This is what you do when your schedules are too packed for you to make real plans: take strolls wherever is most convenient, for however long either of you can spare. Sometimes that’s five minutes, sometimes five hours. But you know that you need to be here for him tonight.

“As long as you need me,” you say.

You turn around to pick up your drinks (a decaf caramel latte for Felix and a black milk tea for yourself), and you don't see the way his smile comes back a little bigger the second time, the way his cheeks warm slightly under the moonlight.

There’s a small park a few blocks behind your apartment. Granted, it's not a very good park, with only a tiny, sad playground and very little foliage, but it is an excellent stargazing spot, due to it being so dark and desolate. You and Felix decide to head there now, your arms touching as you walk through the quiet residential area.

Ten minutes later, blades of grass are poking the back of your head, and directly above you is a sea of scattered stars, flickering like millions of faulty flashlights. Felix’s voice is leaden when he starts to speak, breaking the park’s fragile silence. He tells you about his fears, about how earlier today they overwhelmed him so much that he wanted to lock himself away from the world and throw away the key. He tells you about his dreams, about how even in his relentless pursuit of them they sometimes still feel as amorphous and unattainable as fragments of mist.

The way he always does when he’s around you, Felix spills parts of himself that he never thought he could entrust to anyone. And you don’t say a word, your knee leaning against his, listening, understanding. (But you wish you could tell him a lot of things: that you care for him more than you ever believed yourself capable; that you hope for his happiness more than your own; that you don’t have the words to heal him, but you would give anything to find them.)

By the time the two of you leave the park, it’s almost midnight, and the streets have fallen silent save for the occasional whoosh of car wheels on cement and the distant lamentations of cricket choirs. You’re making small talk now, and Felix is smiling a little easier. It seems your conversation worked in cheering him up; a temporary fix, you’re sure, like a bandaid where stitches should be, but seeing his eyes crinkle and hearing his laugh again is enough to soothe your worry for the rest of the night, at the very least.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay going back yourself?” You ask once the two of you reach the entrance to your apartment building.

“Yeah, of course.” Felix touches the back of his neck apologetically. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”

“Nonsense, Lix. I’m always here for you.”

Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, and you’re caught off guard by his facial expression: exhausted but contemplative, and possessing a sense of tenderness. It is a look that you don’t think you’ve seen before, and you feel your heartstrings pull at its unfamiliarity, its strange softness.

You say your goodbyes, but your "let me know when you get home safe" is cut short when you feel a hand catch your wrist, just as you’re entering the building.

How Felix doesn’t notice your frantic pulse beneath his touch is beyond you, but instead he parts his lips, and his next words resound in your mind as you try and fail to fall asleep that night.

“I can’t explain why, or how—but I feel braver when I’m with you, Y/N. I meant to tell you that earlier.”

And those three words rush to your mind fleetingly, like saltwater crashing against the shores of your mind. Even when the tide has subsided, they remain on the sand, waiting to be read aloud.

“Thank you,” Felix mumbles, “for everything.”

You don’t read out those words, of course. Instead, you reach up to squish Felix’s face and call him a sentimental dork, to which he rolls his eyes affectionately and bats you away, and the moment is over. But when you turn to go, your heart is pounding so loudly that your reply may as well have been a confession.

Three. You sink into your mattress, careful to keep your tea within your mug’s rim, and let out a hybrid of a groan and a sigh that is strikingly reminiscent of an old man lowering himself into a worn armchair.

You can’t remember the last time you had a cold this terrible. It feels as if your lungs took a plunge in a vat of wet cement and then rolled around in gravel immediately afterward. And it’s got you in the mood to do nothing but listen to the heavy drops of rain knocking against your window, curl up with a good show and a hot drink, and bask in your own congestion.

But then your phone, which you left in the bathroom, emits four deafening notification sounds, and you haul yourself back out of bed with a groan-sigh that’s twice as anguished as the last.

When you reach the hellish device, your best friend’s name greets you, and your ire dissipates momentarily.

From: Lix 🐣 Hey hey From: Lix 🐣 We still on for dinner tonight? From: Lix 🐣 Just gonna be me, Minho, Seungmin. Jeongin has a vocal lesson From: Lix 🐣 Please don’t play the “if Jeongin doesn’t go neither do I” card again I’ve had enough of it!!! ENOUGH

You let out a throaty laugh that sounds like one of Minho’s cats battling a hairball, heading back to bed.

From: Y/N 🌙 ahhhh i meant to text you earlier, but i have the worst cold From: Y/N 🌙 no clue how or why i caught it but i feel like fucking shit. it’d be a bad idea for me to come over right now From: Y/N 🌙 sorry :( can we raincheck in a few days? From: Y/N 🌙 (that way jeongin can come too!!!)

Felix dislikes this last text, and you snort into your tea.

From: Lix 🐣 Yeah, of course. Don’t apologize From: Lix 🐣 Do you need anything? You’re eating and sleeping well, yeah? From: Y/N 🌙 sleeping, YES. From: Y/N 🌙 eating, not really 😅 but i don’t have much of an appetite anyways From: Y/N 🌙 don’t worry about me. i’ll be raring to go in a day or two

Felix starts to type a response, but the gray dots disappear after a bit, and you set your phone face-down on your nightstand. He probably has to get back to work, and you have to get back to your episode.

Slowly, the soporific fragrance of chamomile and the lull of relentless rain start to weigh on your eyelids, and you slump unconsciously into your makeshift fortress of blankets, your show playing to nobody.

Night has fallen by the time the door of your apartment clicks open, and Felix pokes a head into your dark kitchen, cautiously calling out your name. When you don’t respond, he slips inside and moves to your kitchen counter, where he unloads the bags in his arms. A spare key to your place dangles from the opening of his hoodie pocket.

There’s a quiet knock on your bedroom door, another call of your name—infinitely softer this time, like how one would speak to a dove. But Felix finds you out like a light, even when he closes your laptop and puts it on your desk, checks your temperature with a gentle hand to your forehead. It feels normal enough to let you sleep, but warm enough that he brings a glass of water and two pills of ibuprofen to your nightstand, placed within your reach, should you wake up in the middle of the night needing them.

Using only the slivers of light coming in from the hallway, Felix allows himself to look at your sleeping form. Your breathing is callous but steady; your face pallid but peaceful. And if only you'd seen see the tiny, helpless smile that pulls at his lips; if only you'd heard the pulse protesting against his skin, yelling at him “do something about this, you fucking idiot, and do it soon."

But you don’t see or hear anything; you just speak, instead.

“Stay with me,” you whisper, and Felix’s hand freezes on your doorknob, his eyes widening in the darkness. “Please?”

There is a lengthy period of nothing, during which neither of you makes another noise; there is only the sound of your clock ticking, raindrops rushing against the windows, and Felix’s heart in his ears.

And then he moves.

“C'mere,” Felix murmurs once he’s lying down next to you, and you nestle into his embrace as easily as if you've always belonged there, your face burrowing into the crook of his neck, your arms winding around his waist, searching for him, asking for him.

Felix has always expressed his affection for people through touch, and you’ve gotten used to his constant hand on your shoulder, his leg resting against yours. But he thinks this is the first time you’ve initiated physicality outright, and he feels a concerned pang in his chest at your unexpected vulnerability. He lifts a hand to cradle the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair.

“Gonna get you sick,” you say with a wet sniffle, your voice muffled against him. And Felix presses a kiss to the top of your head, perhaps without thinking as much as he should have; but who can blame him for forgetting to think when he’s holding you the way he is?

“Don’t care,” he answers readily. “I'm not going anywhere.”

At some point before you fall back asleep, you think your mouth actually forms the words I love you, subtly and silently and into the fabric of his hoodie. But you resume your slumber before you can think more of it. (Felix waits until your breathing is steady again, checks your temperature one more time; and only afterward does he allow his eyes to close.)

The next morning, you wake to an empty bed and a Post-It note explaining that Felix had to run to a recording session: Check your kitchen! See u soon x. Accompanied by a small, messy doodle of a baby chick popping out of its egg.

Your face melts into a smile when you see that the fridge is chock-full of fresh groceries and the pantry has been restocked with your favorite snacks, including a batch of Felix’s world-famous sea salt brownies—accompanied by another note with another doodle, this time a crescent moon wearing your sneakers. Sugar is prolly bad for you rn. Pls have in moderation!

When you pull out your phone to thank him for everything, you see his remaining texts from yesterday—and you feel momentarily empty, as if only then noticing that you've been missing a fraction of your soul your whole life.

From: Lix 🐣 I’ll drop by tonight to check on you From: Lix 🐣 Wait for me, okay?

And he is right in front of you, just out of reach.

Four. “This isn’t a bad idea, right?” Chan asks under his breath.

“Nah, they’ll be fine,” Minho replies, clapping a hand on the leader’s shoulder. “Y/N will take care of him.”

A loud yelp comes from up ahead, and the men whip around quickly enough to crack a joint—only to realize that the noise was the opening note of DAY6’s “Not Mine,” and you and Felix have just launched into song so terribly and so loudly that it’s probably awoken the entirety of Seoul.

“And who’s gonna take care of Y/N?”

The two men look at each other for a moment before deciding they’re not interested in talking the two of you out of a disorderly intoxication charge.

“Let me know when you get back!” Chan hollers after you, and they reenter the karaoke bar in a hurry.

The members decided to go out for karaoke after finishing promotions earlier that week, and Felix invited you to come along. And you might've gone a little overboard with the mango sake, but your level of tipsy is nothing compared to that of the blue-haired boy draped over you.

Felix is rather prone to hangovers, you’ve discovered from past experiences, so the moment he started speaking in some kind of nonsensical Korean-English mutation that not even Chan could understand, the members tasked you with taking him home early. Now, Felix has his arm around your neck, less out of affection and more out of a genuine requirement for support, doing his best to walk in a straight line. He hasn't stopped grinning for the last hour, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to run out of energy anytime soon, not as long as there’s more of DAY6’s discography to butcher.

In spite of your foggy mind, you're well aware that your best friend has never been prettier. He sets the bar high as it is, but then you throw in the flushed lips and cheeks, the lopsided, ditzy grin, the wine-kissed complexion, and life becomes terribly difficult for you. It doesn’t help that alcohol amplifies his proclivity for physical contact—he's been attached to your hip all night, holding your waist, pulling you into incidental hugs.

Needless to say, your current situation is a bit precarious; but you don't know that. Not yet.

The two of you finish your disrespectful rendition of “Not Mine” just as you pass the apartment’s front desk, and it is only when you see the deadly look that the receptionist gives you over the brim of his glasses that you finally feel sober again. You have the sense to incline your head in apology. Felix, however, launches into “You Were Beautiful” without a care in the world.

You dig a pointed elbow into his ribs as you hit the up button, and his singing abruptly falters with a pained huff. "Ow."

“Take an intermission, superstar,” you say. “The receptionist looks like he’s ready to throttle us.”

“Ah, he would never. We’re tight,” he returns, and before you can stop him he’s lifting his head, raising his voice. “Have a good night, Mr. Seo!”

Your nose scrunches into an apprehensive wince—but instead, you think you hear a hint of a smile in the man's cool reply.

“You too, Mr. Lee. Keep your voices down, please.”

“Yes, sir!” You and Felix reply in unison. Felix gives you a smile that says I told you so before he nestles his cheek against your shoulder, and you shake your head. Nobody is immune to the boy’s brightness.

Entering the building seemed to be effective in calming Felix down. The elevator ride up is silent save for a bit of quiet humming, and you finally see a bit of sleep on his face when you open the door of his dorm and turn on the living room lights. He lets you escort him to his bathroom without a word.

“I’ll be here if you need me,” you say, reaching to pat his cheeks a couple times. “Be careful in there.”

“M’kay. Thank you," he says with a drowsy smile, and closes the door.

You pull out your phone and open up your messages with Chan, remembering his parting request.

To: Chan 🐺 we got back safe!! To: Chan 🐺 lix is gonna be okay. i'll take care of him

A few minutes later, a notification appears at the top of your screen; Chan left hearts on both of your messages and sent two in response.

From: Chan 🐺 Thanks, good to hear :) you get some rest too, okay? From: Chan 🐺 Bro tore that sake UP

You begin to type back a retort—give me a break it was basically JUICE—when you hear Felix call your name, his voice muffled through the bathroom door.

“What's up?” You answer.

“I think I’m...stuck.”

Now what the hell does that mean?

“Can I come in?”

“Mhm.”

You open the door, and your attempt to suppress your laughter fails with flying colors. Felix is well and truly stuck in his crewneck, the gray material swathed around his head, his arms positioned in some kind of advanced pretzel formation.

“You are a hot mess, Lee Yongbok," you sing, moving toward him, and he whines from inside his cotton prison.

“Please don’t kick me while I’m down.”

Grinning, you bring your fingers to the hem of his top and attempt to lift it over his head. He’s managed to tangle himself quite impressively, and the next few minutes are spent with you trying to extract him, like he’s that one nose hair that your tweezers have never been able to reach, all while he's moaning and groaning about the fabric catching on his earrings, about his joints not being able to handle this kind of pressure anymore.

He emerges from the crewneck a while later looking positively disgruntled. You toss the gray mass onto the counter, proud of your handiwork.

“So maybe I‘m a hot mess,” he concedes. “A little bit.”

“That's alright. We all have our moments,” you giggle. “Come on, let me help you with your jewelry.”

For a second, he looks like he’s about to protest—but the look you give him reminds him that his motor functions are currently on strike.

“Okay,” he mumbles adorably.

You position yourself a little closer to Felix and lift your hands to the nape of his neck, where the clasp of his chain lies. It takes you a few tries to undo it, and you end up having to use the mirror above the sink for guidance. Soon, there is a soft click. You set the chain down next to the crewneck before your hands return to the sides of his face, this time to tuck long, light blue strands behind the cuffs of his ears. Your fingers run over the curves of his silver earrings.

“Are these bothering you at all?” You ask nonchalantly. “I forgot you had so many piercings.”

In your peripheral vision, you see Felix’s lips move, but no sound comes out. Puzzled, you move your eyes to meet his, and it takes you one blink’s worth of time to understand the source of his speechlessness.

Somewhere between your reaching up to touch his necklace and the present moment, you’ve come incredibly, dangerously close to him. Close enough that you can count the freckles that speckle his skin like fallen stars, that you can feel the heat of his body against your own, that Felix’s eyes are nearly crossed trying to maintain eye contact with you.

Your heartbeat lodges itself firmly in your throat, and your thoughts evaporate into complete and utter disarray. There are three differently-worded apologies on the tip of your tongue within seconds. You immediately start to pray that he won’t remember this tomorrow morning. And your strongest impulse is to move; to get as far away from him as possible, before either of you does anything you'll regret.

But there is something that overwhelms your every instinct, and stops you from budging an inch. And that is the way Felix is looking at you, unblinking brown eyes filled with something that doesn’t have a name. It is the same tender expression that’d surprised you the first time you saw it, and it is with a spiraling stomach that you finally realize what that expression is.

You reach your conclusion a second after he does.

Felix’s hand lifts to cradle your jaw, his face moving closer to yours. Your foreheads touch, wisps of his hair falling over the bridge of your nose, your senses engulfed by the vanilla of his cologne and the touch of sweet wine on his breath. The scene is as delicate as a dragonfly’s tail dipping into a pond’s surface; even a minuscule disturbance would shatter this limbo instantaneously.

A part of you wishes that it would, but nothing does. There is only his pulse, perceptible through the thin cloth of his tank top, vehement beneath your fingertips—and your heart, naked and frail, sitting upon the palm of his hand.

Felix doesn’t push you away; he doesn’t kiss you. He does something far worse.

“I love you,” he whispers.

A few seconds. That is how long you stand there for, with every word of every language you know inaccessible, every qualm and doubt and source of anxiety that plagued your mind moments before now distant memories, every ounce of your energy channeled into keeping yourself upright.

But the few seconds feel like forever. The same way he has always felt like forever to you. The same way you imagined you would spend forever loving him, close enough for him to love you back, but far enough that he’ll never know the true nature of your affection: greater and truer than anything anyone would ever call friendship.

An urgent question suddenly surfaces in your mind: is he still drunk? He was falling up, down, and sideways minutes ago. Surely this was an intoxicated slip of the tongue. But you discern the slight tremble to Felix’s breathing and the intensity in his heavy-lidded gaze, all far too intentional, far too conscious to be wine-induced—leaving behind one impossible possibility.

You should be having your happy tears kissed from your face right now. You should be over the moon, relishing in the sensation of two stars aligning at long fucking last, the way you’ve dreamed of since the very first time you laid eyes on Felix.

But instead, you just feel inexplicably and profusely afraid.

You won’t remember the specifics of the next few minutes. You think you stumble away from him and whisper I’m sorry through watering eyes, though you don’t really know what for. He sputters something in return, his tone so desperate and confused that you feel your heart break to pieces on the spot. You apologize again, leave the bathroom, and move towards the apartment door as if your life depends on it. In your peripheral vision, you notice the crease of concern on Mr. Seo’s face when you stalk past him, tears now flying freely down your cheeks. You run into Minho and Jeongin when you step out of the building, and you see the worry that creases their faces, hear their voices calling your name. Jeongin's hand closes around your wrist—are you okay?! What the fuck happened?—but you do not, can not say anything, not right now.

And then you are alone again, and you briskly walk the two miles back to your apartment. Your mind and heart are every bit as foggy as the somber night sky that hangs over your head.

Five. When the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the evening, Felix turns around to face you, launching into his best tour guide walk.

“And, with that,” he says with a glowing smile, “we are nearing the end of our tour of Sydney.”

“Noooo,” you lament, reaching your arm out. Felix falls back into step beside you and links it with his, the movement like clockwork. Your jackets scrunch up together where your elbows bend. “Already?”

“Okay, the tour’s been going on for two days and you haven’t paid a cent for my toil. Don’t push your luck.”

Your laughter spills into the otherwise quiet avenue, the setting sun throwing shadows across the cement, but it always feels like midday when you have the brightest man in the world by your side.

When the two of you discovered you had a free weekend on the same days, Felix conjured up the idea of going home—and suggested that you go with him. You’d freaked out for a bit, but then Felix reminded you that his mom texts you on your birthday and that you’re on multiple different subscription plans with his sisters, and you collected yourself quite quickly. There was a lot of cheering over the phone when Felix informed his family that they’d finally get to meet you in person.

But such a fast trip to the other side of the world proved to be no easy feat. Felix took on the task of piecing together a travel plan that would cover most of his favorite spots in forty-eight hours. The last two weeks were filled with him fretting over the details and you fretting over him, asking time and time again if you could help with anything, only for him to shoo you away with a single hand and a pointed “you are my guest. Now leave me.”

With assistance from every other resource at his disposal, though, he pulled it off, and the weekend has been wonderful thus far.

“I think that was some of the best food I’ve ever had, seriously,” you hum. “I’ll be dreaming about those appetizers for the rest of my life.”

“I'm glad. It took a Socratic seminar to choose the place, after all."

(The Socratic seminar in question: a two-hour FaceTime call and an intense match of rock-paper-scissors between him and his siblings, aimed to decide on where Felix would take you for dinner the second night. Only for his mom to ignore all of their efforts and insist upon her own choice of restaurant instead—no ifs, ands, or buts.)

“We have to try your sisters’ recommendations the next time I visit, don’t we?”

“Yes," he returns, shuddering. "I think my family is done for if we don’t."

He has one place left to take you, and the two of you head there now, shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm.

A month has passed since that night.

You’ve tried with every fiber of your being to put the whole thing from your mind, of course to no avail. You see Felix’s flushed lips and gentle gaze every time you blink; you hear his “I love you” every time you’re alone, the words whispered in the wind and dragged over the earth, in tandem with your footsteps.

You wanted to fucking die of awkwardness in the few days following, but it was never an option for you to avoid Felix for long. The two of you still went on convenience store runs together; still met up for coffee before work; still continued your business as usual, against all odds. And you owed it all to Felix and how he knows you better than you know yourself. He didn’t try to talk to you when he sensed that you had nothing to say; nor did he try to bring you back when you felt miles away. He would just silently slip a pack of your favorite cookies into your grocery basket or order your drink on your behalf.

Felix had questions and wanted answers; there was no doubt about that. But he held his tongue, granted you as much space as you needed to come back to him. And you did, in your gradual, meticulous way.

You’re finally going to bring it up tonight. You’ve planned to since the day you confirmed the trip, and you hope that the final stop of the tour will be the perfect place to bite the bullet.

“We’re here,” Felix says.

The two of you have arrived at the bank of a wide river, and you’re at a temporary loss for words. To your right is a bridge that spans the distance of the water, and to your left is a stunning, panoramic view of the city of Sydney. Twilight has turned the buildings into dark silhouettes against the autumn sunset, and the water reminds you of a palette of oil paints with how it reflects the pinks and oranges in the sky.

Felix feels you tighten your hold around his arm, and he smiles when he sees the wonder in your eyes. He wishes he could see this place for the first time again.

“Not bad, huh?”

“No,” you murmur. “Not at all.”

“C’mon.”

Felix leads you to the center of the bridge, where he props his elbows atop the metal railing and looks over the water. You join him and pull out your phone, but no settings or adjustments render your camera capable of capturing the landscape's beauty.

(Until Felix throws up a peace sign and pokes his head into the corner of your frame. Then it stands a fighting chance.)

“What is this place?” You ask, your shoulder touching his when you also lean over the railing. “Why are we the only ones here?”

“Crazy, right?” Felix says proudly. “I dunno. I think it might be private property, or something. But it’s only a few blocks away from my house and on the way I used to take to school, so I used to come here all the time, always around this time of day.”

Felix’s gaze moves over the sky, oblivious to the fact that his eyes hold whole rainbows of their own.

“There was never anyone around, but I could still hear the birds chirping and the wind in the leaves. It felt like a corner of the world had been sealed off just for me. I’m glad to see that nothing’s changed.”

Some time passes, and Felix tells you more stories about this peculiar bridge: how he asked someone to formal and got rejected and came here to reflect on his actions; how he had to take two different buses every day because his school was so far away from his house, but he always stopped here to feed the families of mallards that came out to swim in the mornings, even if it meant he’d be late; how this was the last place he went to before moving to South Korea, because he knew he’d miss this nook of Sydney most.

Of all the places you've visited, you think this one will remain with you longest. As time elapses, the colors of the sunset augment and deepen, dyeing the world in ways that remind you of the aurora. And then there is the man, wearing a gentle smile to match his softened features, his voice to your ears what honey is to a sore throat, telling you about his past, letting you into yet another chamber of his soul.

You are in no way prepared to butcher the sanctity of this moment, but you know that you can only run for so long and so far. You owe it to him. You owe it to yourself.

When the sun’s final rays are clinging the faraway mountaintops, Felix lifts himself off the railing and stands up straight. “Ready to go home?"

And your hand finds his, the pads of your fingers cold against his skin. Felix is surprised at first, but then he sees the hint of sadness in your eyes and the tension in your shoulders, and he understands what’s coming.

“I want to talk to you about that night,” you say.

Felix doesn’t respond for a few seconds. But when he does, his voice is so soft and so infuriatingly kind that hearing it makes you want to sob.

“...you don’t have to, Y/N.”

“No. I do,” you return, startling even yourself with the firmness in your voice, "I don’t want to keep dancing around the topic, not when you’ve been waiting for as long as you have.”

You feel Felix’s gaze on your face, as if he’s trying to read between your lines, and then he yields with a slight incline of his head.

“Okay.” And the stage is yours.

You don't start talking right away, your mind reeling with the effort to organize everything you feel and verbalize everything you want to tell him. It isn’t until Felix gives your hand a gentle squeeze—you’ve forgotten that you’re still holding his—that you feel rooted in the moment again.

It’s Felix you’re talking to; your soulmate, your sunlight. Nothing you are about to say will ever change that. This, you believe with every fiber of your being.

So you take a deep breath.

“When you said those words,” you begin, and the words sound alien in your voice, despite how many times you’ve rehearsed this conversation in your head, “I couldn’t process a thing. I was so happy, but I was so, so scared. I’ve spent the last month trying to figure out why I was so scared, and I can’t say that I know for sure yet, but I have a much better idea now, and—it’s a lot of things.

“For as long as I can remember, I have only ever been able to love profoundly and deeply, with everything in me. And over time, I led myself to believe that nobody would ever be able to understand or reciprocate my love, not in the manner I want most.”

You feel yourself starting to waver, but you find strength in his touch.

“But you changed that, Felix. You walked into that café that afternoon with your voice and your smile, and suddenly I’d found you—someone who experiences life the way I do, who loves the way I love. And every day since, I’ve been surrounded by you and your effortless warmth and your beautiful soul. It was only a matter of time before I started hoping, constantly and stupidly, that you would one day love me, the same way that I—”

Your voice catches in your throat like a heel slamming into car brakes, “love you” hanging so dangerously from the tip of your tongue that you’re stunned it doesn’t fall out right away.

“But that’s why I’m fucking terrified,” you go on. “When you told me you loved me, I felt like I could fly. But I also felt like I was falling—and maybe this is because I was still tipsy, I'm not really sure—but in that moment I saw a world where we weren't there to catch each other, where something had gone horribly wrong and I'd wake up one morning and you’d—you’d just be a distant memory.

“And that was the thought that shook me so badly: losing you. Leaving you.” You’re crying now, tears paving golden trails against your cheeks. “For whatever reason, that was the first thing that came to mind, and it broke me.”

You need to wrap it up, and fast, if your faltering voice and racing heart are any indication.

“I meant it when I apologized to you that night. I’m sorry, Lix. I’m sorry I made everything so fucking complicated. I’m sorry that I ran away. I’m sorry that I hurt you, or worried you. But I want you to know that I feel more for you than you will ever understand; I just need a little more time to put it into words. So, wait for me—”

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you finally cave, your last word coming out in a shattered rasp.

“—please.”

And the syllable has barely left your mouth when Felix lets go of your hand, only to bring his arms around you and pull you to his chest with such urgency that the breath momentarily leaves your lungs.

When you fall against him, you fall entirely apart. You have no idea where all the feelings are coming from, only that they’re suddenly overwhelming your every sense. And you start to cry, really cry, your fingers seeking refuge in his jacket, in his hair.

The sun departs at last, and night starts to fall. You lose track of how long you remain in this position, shaking with hushed sobs, fighting to regain control of your emotions. But Felix stays with you through it all, muted tears of his own intermingling with yours in the material of his scarf. He holds you carefully yet fiercely, like you really will crumble if he lets go.

And he waits, because of course he does. He would wait lifetimes for you.

One. The way you thaw is like melting snow.

It happens under your nose for the most part, but it is slow, sure, and irreversible, and you open your eyes one morning only to realize that the world outside has changed—and so have you.

You roll over and pick up your phone. There are unread messages from Felix sitting in your notifications, probably confirming the plans you made to get coffee before work today, but you put them on hold for now. Instead, you open up your camera roll and find an album, labeled with a sun emoji and yellow heart.

You made this a few months after you met Felix, and you’ve doted on it since, in the sense that you update it almost every day. Funnily enough, though, you’ve never looked through the album just to look through it. Maybe because you’ve never had the time or felt the impulse, but more likely because you know that the album is a visual time capsule of your relationship with the most important person in your life—which has never been purely platonic for you, despite how hard you’ve tried to change your heart.

Looking through it would mean acknowledging your true emotions, something you’ve never felt ready for.

Now, you open the album without a second thought, a preemptive smile on your lips. And you find yourself swept out of your bed and thrown back inside each of the pictures you see, reliving the moments as vividly as if you’re watching them on film.

This is one of your favorites, taken during a late-night tteokbokki run to a small restaurant behind Felix's company building. Felix was laughing so hard at one of your stories that he could only take bites of his meal every five minutes. His face had broken into a dazzling grin, his figure blurring as he lurched forward in his seat, trying to pull his hood over his face in secondhand embarrassment. Snap. He is always handsome, extraordinarily so, but you think you love the way he looks here most of all: every guard of his lowered, carefree, happy.

Another is from the first time you met Chan. Nowadays, your interactions with the boys consist mostly of running into them at Felix's dorm and making friendly small talk. But it's always been different with the oldest member. The first time Felix introduced the two of you, you clicked straightaway, and you had to have spent four hours after dinner just talking, scouring the city for something cold to eat. By the end of the sweltering summer night, the three of you were perched atop a short stone barrier in a secluded corner of Seoul, right outside the best bingsu place in all of South Korea. Felix had leaned over to steal the last cube of mango from Chan’s bowl, to Chan's dramatic protest. Snap. And Chan is like a brother to you now; you will never be able to fathom how much light Felix has brought to your life, be it through him or the people he loves.

A computer screen displaying a League of Legends scoreboard, in which Felix has died more times than there were minutes of the game. Snap. You (not sober) in the center of Felix's living room, your body poised in what is supposed to be the chorus of “Queencard," Felix and Bin completely losing their shit on the couch. Snap. His head bowed in anguish over a bowl of brownie batter after he mistakes salt for sugar. Snap. A low-quality, tiny Felix on stage, the brightest grin on his face when he finally manages to spot you in the nosebleeds. Snap. Your dining table creaking under the weight of all the gifts he got you for your last birthday. Snap. Him and one of your best friends from home, arms around each other, peace signs thrown up, beaming. Snap.

There are countless more, and they are all so incredibly near and dear to you, all thanks to the freckled boy in each.

You respond to Felix's messages (“be there soon!”), and then move to get dressed. There is a new sense of certainty in your gait when you emerge from your building and into the quiet morning.

The weather is lovely, the fresh sunlight cream-colored against a cloudless sky, the light breeze shuffling the new leaves about. A hound’s ears twitch when you hurry past its home; it is too drowsy to investigate your presence further. The only sounds in the air are the chattering of sparrows in the branches above you and the soles of your shoes, moving quickly across the sidewalk. The wonder in the world is more palpable to you today than it’s ever been.

Soon, the chalk-written menu and hand-carved wooden sign of your favorite café come into view, and you open the door. There are only a few customers inside, and you spot your person right away: his long, dark hair partially pinned back, his figure flattered by a black long sleeve and jeans. He has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, as well as two drinks on the table before him: one caramel latte and one black milk tea.

When he hears the door jingle, he looks up, and the smile that melts across his face is so fond that you can’t believe there was ever a time when you doubted his feelings for you.

The way his loving smile mirrors onto your face is as inevitable and involuntary as destiny herself.

“Hi,” Felix says, rising from his seat.

“Hey, you,” you answer. “Wanna take a walk?”

And so you do.

You link arms, as always; you try each other’s drinks, as always; you manage to talk about everything and nothing all at once, as always. But when his company building comes into view, your footsteps come to a halt, and your hand fastens around the cuff of his sleeve.

“Hey, Lix—"

When his eyes meet yours, the sun hits them just right, and you have not known anything as clearly and certainly as you do right then.

“—I love you.”

Felix can only stare, his eyes so wide that you can see the whites of them all around, his straw falling from his parted lips.

Then, a smile starts to creep across his face like spilt syrup.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Lee Yongbok.”

He sets his bag and drink down on the pavement. “Again, please.”

“I love you,” you repeat, starting to laugh. “I love you, I love you, god, I love you, Felix, so fucking much—”

Felix brings his hands to either side of your face, leaning his forehead against your own. And this time, there is no hesitation, no fear—only starlight when he tilts your chin up and finally, finally presses his lips to yours.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, hordes of them flapping so fervently you feel as though you might take off into the air, but you seek out his elbows, then his shoulders, and then the back of his neck, anchoring yourself to the earth, to him. Felix kisses you like he will never be able to again, and it is all you can do to savor how the curve of his smile feels against your own; how he murmurs the words “I love you, too” in between breaths. He tastes like sugar and smells like shampoo. He feels like forever.

2K notes · View notes

jaemlonfz · 7 months

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can you do something about svt members wearing suits and holding their baby in the carrier infront and going for some event and the reader thinking "is it too soon to be wanting baby #2" 🫢 thank you <333

ps: i took over a MONTH to write this and i still think its not that good, i did not review it and english isnt my first language so im sorry if theres grammar errors, i hope yall like it wc: 3,1 K tw: there's the explanation and then pure filth, overall its basically all sorts of positions, crempie, praise kink in most of them, lmk if i forgot something so i was doing everyone in suits and wanting baby #2 but I started to think it was a bit silly because they all looked the same, so I changed the story for most of them. anyways i hope you still liked it, i made it with a lot of love and i apologize for taking so long

Seungcheol

You and Scoups were a public couple, fans distrusted you for years, you were always openly saying how much you loved seventeen's songs and still always singing Seungcheol's excerpts, and he openly talking about the films you star in without the slightest shame. So when you guys finally came out as a couple, your fanbase wasn't shocked at all.

A few years later as a married couple, after a one-year hiatus, you were seen in public with scoups carrying two little girls, that's how they found out that you had become parents of twin girls.

Years later, now with your daughters a bit older, you were getting ready for an awards ceremony, your burgundy dress matching with scoups tie, your girls' dresses in light pink. You were looking for your earring in every corner of your room when you went down to the living room to ask if your husband was with him, but when you arrived in the living room you saw the most adorable scene ever, Seungcheol trying to fix one of the girls' hairstyle while the another was stuck to his back kissing his cheek.

You can tell you felt your stomach turn at the Scoups' serious look as he tried not to ruin his daughter's hair, while the other looked at her father as if he were the most precious thing in the world.

Scoups was such a wonderful, caring and kind father.

You guys hadn't really brought up the subject of having kids anymore considering all the work you'd put in with both of them at once, but now it's a topic you'll actually talk about after seeing your husband being an extraordinary father.

It was only when you arrived at the awards ceremony that you realized you only had one earring in your ear.

“How beautiful my dear wife, you already want to have another baby”

Seungcheol said pushing his length into you, as he wiped your tears and brushed the hair stuck to your forehead.

“Will you let me fill you up so you can get pregnant again? Do you want to have a big belly carrying my son again?

Jeonghan

You knew you wanted to have another child with Jeonghan as soon as you saw him carrying your newborn son in the hospital, but that's something that absolutely every mother feels so you honestly didn't pay much attention to the feeling. But now, on the exact same date, a year later, you felt the same thing but with an animalistic intensity.

It was your son's first birthday and you decided to have a party with just the child's grandparents. With a maximum of ten balloons scattered around the large room, the grandparents amused by the baby's toothless smile, you decided to grab a candle and a lighter so you could sing personalized congratulations.

returning to the room with a candle and the lighter in your hand it was completely involuntary to rub your legs with emotion after seeing Jeonghan with your son in his arms. They were both wearing matching clothes, they both had the same smile, the same eyes and the same nose, they were like clones. the baby's thin hair was the same tone as yours but he was still a miniature Jeonghan, and seeing him smile so sincerely with his son in his arms made your eyes water a little.

“Jeonghan I want another baby." You admitted once the baby was sleeping in the crib.

“Do you really want another child or do you just want me to fill you?” He said smiling, and after your response in the blink of an eye your situation was completely different.

Your back arched as your ass was in the air and you cried and screamed with your face in the pillow.

“You asked for it, now you handle it.” Jeonghan said kissing your back.

Joshua

Joshua has always been a very giving person, every sunday going to church to pray for the well-being of others, and at least once a month going to orphanages to care for sick or orphaned children. And it was on one of these trips to the orphanage that you met.

Now years later Joshua continues with the same cherished habit of providing for others, and that's how you discovered that necessarily marrying him and carrying his child in your womb

Joshua was in bed when they called from the orphanage saying that a new child had arrived, as always Joshua shouted from the bed and ran asking if you would go with him to meet the new family member, you obviously said yes, quickly getting ready with him.

When you arrived in place, you ran to the bathroom because you were holding on too tightly to make a good impression on the child. returning to the giant garden looking for an unknown face, who you thought was around 4 or 5 years old, you saw Joshua's back and his arms as if he was waiting for something. Joshua quickly noticed your presence and turned to see you.

The child was definitely no older than 6 months old, Joshua held her with so much care, looked at her with so much care and love that you felt your blood pressure dropping.

Joshua was born to be a father, and you were the only one who hadn't realized that yet.

Now you had your legs as close together as possible, squeezing yourself constantly trying to hold in the liquid that would give you a child without letting a drop leak out.

As soon as you got home you admitted your dirty thoughts towards Joshua, who quickly took off your clothes, turned you around and filled you up.

“If you really want my son, don’t let a drop leak.” Joshua said from the kitchen, making you a sandwich while you smiled with completely red cheeks.

Junhui

It was the first time you had been away from your son for more than 10 hours, and Junhui was a wreck. Both had already cried because you missed your baby while he slept peacefully next to you, and now the day of true farewell had arrived.

You were going to a wedding a few hours away, so in case it was to late on the way back, you had already booked a hotel room just in case.

At the moment you were adjusting your heels sitting on the bed, while you saw Hunhui on the baby monitor talking to the adorable baby. you managed to hear a few words like “i’m going to miss you.” or “don’t cry too much in your grandmother’s ear.” Junhui was already ready with his suit and you, now late, ran to your son’s room to say goodbye too. but when you arrived at the door, when you saw Junhui's look at the child, you didn't know how to describe whether your heart was tender or swollen.

As expected, it was very late when the wedding ended and you had to sleep at the hotel, you could feel Junhui awake and restless by the way he moved in bed, and it left you with a wonderfull idea.

“You're such a good father." You said, panting on top of Junhui, riding his dick. “So worried about your son." Now you lay down in the perfect position to whisper in his ear

“Let’s give him a brother so he won’t be so alone, let’s have another child to worry about." You said and I could feel your cock twitching inside your tight, damaged interior

Soonyoung

it was yours daughter's first halloween, and quite obviously, soonyoung dressed her up as a tiger.

Yall had absolutely no party to go to, and honestly you thought the idea of going door to door with a baby in costume was a bit strange, so you only dressed up for some photos and to have a fun memory about your first halloween as a family.

Soonyoung obviously begs you for the whole family to be tigers, so while you were looking for a shirt of his with a tiger print or some other style of clothing, when you returned to the living room you saw the most heart-warming scene in the world.

Soonyoung was holding the small hands of the child, who was trying to stand, while they were both smiling widely, you couldn't help it and took a photo of the moment, certainly thinking about how beautiful it would look framed on the wall.

Now that your daughter was already asleep, you went to talk to soonyoung about the scene you saw and you were obviously teased about it.

“Since you liked me so much seeing our daughter, let’s have another one”

“Younggg…” You mumbled trying not to make noise so as not to wake the beloved child in the next room

“i also love seeing you with our baby, let’s do one more” He pushed his length into you, who groaned at the invasion without warning.

“Ohh… please soon, let’s have another one”

Wonwoo

In fact, wonwoo took the initiative to have another child with you.

Wonwoo has a younger brother and he can definitely say that it is a wonderful thing to have someone to look after and be able to talk to, so after a year of your baby being born wonwoo called you to talk about it.

The conversation was absolutely very short, he simply admitted that he wanted another child and you opened the robe you were wearing and let it fall to the floor

“Such a willing mother.” He kissed your chin and quickly moved down to your neck. “Such a willing wife”

“How can you be so willing to make me happy." He smiled ramming his cock into you, who twitched beneath him

“Are you so wet just thinking about me bearing another child? Do you like to imagine me filling your brim?”

You managed to hear a chuckle from him as you hurriedly shook your head answering the question. “You will look so beautiful swollen with my son”

Jihoon

Honestly there wasn't a specific moment that you knew you wanted to have another child with Jihoon, because you always knew that once you saw this man as a father, you would never stop, but I really think the penny dropped when your son asked for a sister.

You were having a movie night when suddenly your three year old son asked for a little sister. your face automatically turned to Jihoon, who as already looking at you.

You talked to your son and said you were going to talk to his father about it, and when you saw your son's reaction, you swore to yourself that you would give this child a giant family to love

“You can rest assured that you’re going to have a little sister." You heard Jihoon whispering in your son’s ear while he was still looking at you

“Jihoon…” you whimpered underneath him, your legs spread, your arms up being held by your husband’s strong hand

“We have to fulfill our firstborn’s wish, and now is the perfect time”

Jihoon was referring to the weekend he was spending with his grandparents, you were definitely going to be pregnant by the end of this sunday.

dokyeom -

Today was your cousin's wedding and you were desperately late. putting on your heels as you jumped up to your one-year-old daughter who was in her crib still in her pajamas, after all you left her there to get ready first and dress her up later, but distracted by the happiness of putting on makeup for a big event again you completely lost track of what time .

Mentally cursing yourself for messing around so much while doing your makeup, you entered the room imagining the little girl with her hair all tangled up, a dirty diaper stinking of poop and her tantruming with hunger, but when you opened your eye, preparing for the worst you saw dokyeom a hand without a lap.

He was holding her in his arms, trying to keep her awake so she could rest later. Dokyeom was divine with those formal clothes and kinda wet hair, you were led to think about your husband making you feel good thinking about having another child

She was already dressed beautifully, her suitcase was already packed, her hair was in a beautiful hairstyle and with a beautiful bow that matched her dress. Dokyeom had done all of this knowing you would be late.

“do you want to see me be a father again? did you like me seeing our daughter today?” dokyeom said as he kissed your sweaty neck.

“are you going to let me fill you up again? will you let me breed you?" he laughed at your scrunched up face with no coherent thoughts in your brain.

Mingyu

That Mingyu is a famous model that everyone knows, and that you, his makeup artist, had great chemistry with him, everyone knows, that's how you met. Now married with two daughters, brands caught your opportunity to do a commercial featuring Mingyu as his girls' father, so you did him in makeup for the shoot.

It was a casual commercial, something like them at a picnic, an outdoor field. With a brush you touch up the makeup on Mingyu's tanned skin while others arranging the scene.

In the scenes, Mingyu had one on his shoulders and the other was running hand in hand with her father or with the two playing together while he smiled admiringly. Seeing this scene was something that super swelled your heart with love and warmed your insides with emotion at seeing your husband and daughters.

When you got home at the end of the day, you were both exhausted and fell into your crib like rocks.

“Mingyu, give me another child” He wasted no time in pushing you onto the bed and holding your legs in the air and starting to push his length into your wet core.

“You were certainly excited about me seeing it in the commercial today, right? Do you want to have another child after you saw me looking so hot taking care of the girls” He talked to you while your eyes rolled constantly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to only let you sleep tonight after you have an baby in your womb.”

Minghao

You and Minghao always had in mind that you wanted someone to love and call family, technical children would only come as a bonus if your partner also liked the idea of procreating.

Minghao was a little piece of heaven, being everything good you could imagine, so when he thought about his thoughts about just wanting one person to call family without the obligatory need to involve a baby you were left in doubt.

Your first child was an accident and you discovered the pregnancy at 4 months, welcoming the pregnancy you saw the brightness in Minghao's eyes increasing even more, especially after your son was born.

Now, a few years later with an older child and already demonstrating some personality traits, you will see that any chance to bring lives with the same principles as Minghao you will definitely seize this opportunity.

So yes, practically you would get pregnant countless times if it meant several mini Minghao’s around the world.

“Let’s have another baby now Hao” You said as soon as Minghao sat on the bed getting ready to sleep, but now a night’s sleep is no longer guaranteed.

You were on your sides, lying on the bed, your pajamas were askew and your panties dragged to the side as Minghao pushed into you calmly.

“How beautiful asking me to get you pregnant, looking at me with such long eyes, your red cheeks and your sweaty hands.” He whispered in your ear slowly

“You were so nervous, did you think I would deny your request?” He kissed your neck moving his index finger to your sensitive spot “I will never deny you that”

Seungkwan

Seungkwan has always been romantic, and even after his first child was born he continued with this characteristic. Always bringing you flowers when he came home from work, bringing you your favorite chocolate or even asking for your favorite food to be delivered to your door while he was traveling.

So in his head, even though he knew that any basic conversation about having another child would probably end with you agreeing with him and you making the second child, but Seungkwan wanted to win over the second child, he wanted to win over you.

Suddenly Seungkwan would come home with clothes that were smaller than what your son was wearing because he had gotten "confused", sometimes he would take the foods you craved during pregnancy and ask you if it reminded you of anything or even buy a shirt written "big brother" for his son after all he hadn't even seen the print. So when you thought about it, you realized that Seungkwan was already way ahead of you, giving you clues about having another child from the beginning.

"Kwannie, if you wanted another baby you just had to tell me" You said on top of him, he had covered your face in shame the moment you discovered his plan and climbed on his dick.

"I didn't want to pressure you" He spoke shakily, you guys fit together so well. You were so magnificent on top of him.

"You deserve another child, and I will never feel pressured by something you do."

Vernon

Vernon has a good relationship with his sister. According to him, he and his sister were always friends and always counted on themselves in situations that their parents were unable to help. You have a good relationship with your brother, and you definitely agree with Vernon's wise words.

Gaining a sibling for both of us was like winning the lottery, receiving the best gift in the world, having a friend of your own blood. So you've definitely come to the conclusion that you're either going to have a couple of children or none at all, and as you're now going out with a five-year-old child, it's time to give the gift that you both managed to receive for the anxious firstborn.

“I forgot how addictive you are” Vernon mumbled as you moved on top of him.

“I think I’m going to try to get you pregnant every day from now on.”

Chan

Chan is a chaming person, and he actually its very good at making people do what he wanted, without them even knowing that. So when he saw you as a actual mother, holding your lilttle girl in your arms, Chan knew that all he wanted to do for the rest of his life was making you more and more of a mother and seeing you enjoying your motherhood.

Of course he would help around the house, he wanted to be a good husband/father so you could see his effort and give him a reward (a new baby)

Obviously Chan knew that your first pregnancy was very great and you did not suffer at all coparing to others mothers experience, and he knew if someday you started acting like that, it would be the end of the story. But he couldnt help himself when he saw you all curved up for him, with your tearing eyes begging for another baby

"Of couse i will give you another baby." He kissed your forehead as you mumbled below his muscular body

"How can i say no after you look at my so beautiful like that?" He whines in your ear seeing you tremble all up again.

"Such a beautiful mother." And yet again, Chan always get what he wants.

#seungcheol smut #jeonghan smut #joshua smut #junhui smut #hoshi smut #wonwoo smut #woozi smut #dokyeom smut #mingyu smut #minghao smut #seungkwan smut #vernon smut #lee chan smut #seventeen smut #seventeen

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luveline · 1 year

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i’ve been needing some more Spence in my life can I request something w him very fluffy and soft and lovely and wonderful I have no plot I’m so so sorry but you’re a genius please pick up my slack<333

thank u for ur request angel! fem!reader

Spencer is surprising, occasionally. He must have really missed you while you were apart, all five days and seven hours, because he pulls you so tightly into his arms upon seeing you that your heels lift up from the floor. Your laugh is a squeal and you scramble to keep purchase, clinging to him rather than have your full weight topple him over.

"Hey, Spence!" you say brightly. "You didn't text me to say you were back! What's up with that?"

"I knew you'd be here. Didn't wanna waste time texting," he says, sounding just as happy as you, his face crushed to the side of your head, the bridge of his nose against your ear.

"Ah, because texting slows down the speed of the car you're in," you tease, moving back onto proper footing. It creates a gap between your faces, enough to see how tired he looks.

Spencer hums and smiles despite his dark circles. It's a very vulnerable expression, almost hopeful. Sometimes you think he's worried that, in your time apart, your affection has lessened for him, like a few days is enough to realise he's not worth it. But that would never happen, because he's more than worth it. He deserves to know that.

You stroke hair out of his face softly with your pinky finger, tucking it behind his ear, your hand pausing against his neck. "I'm glad you're home safe. I can stop worrying about you."

"For a few days," he says with a wince.

"Lucky me," you say sincerely.

He dives in for another hug. You think you might love that most about him, how when he's missed you, all that he wants is to be close to you, choosing a hug over a kiss nine times out of ten. He's a little taller than you and you feel it in moments like this, his arm behind your neck to lock you in, his lips pressed to the highest point of your cheek.

"It's concerning to me that you didn't hear me come in," Spencer says. "And that you didn't lock your door. You know forty percent of home invasions happen during the day?"

"I wish I didn't know that now," you say. "You'd protect me, though."

"With what?" he asks incredulously.

You giggle and lean away from his embrace. He sounds genuinely confused as to what you're expecting from him, which is funny —he's a special agent for the FBI. "Just because you don't bring a gun home doesn't mean you can't look after us, Spence. I've heard all the stories, remember."

"Exaggerated by Rossi after a glass of Chambertin."

He's laughing by the time he finishes his sentence, infected by your giddy smile, his arms settling now behind your back. He hasn't quite mastered the art of casual intimacy; every touch from him is loaded with meaning and sincerity alike.

You look up into his face. "I trust you, but I'll lock the door next time. Is it really forty percent? That seems high."

Spencer loads up a spiel of statistics for you, listing them succinctly but interweaving correlations he clearly thinks you'll find interesting. He doesn't gloss over the scary stuff or the convoluted math. You're reeling by the time he's done. But happy, completely, in the circle of his arms.

"I missed you," you say.

Spencer looks surprised. "I missed you more," he says, matter-of-fact.

You shake your head gently. "No. You didn't."

Spencer dips his head down for a soft kiss. Your eyes shutter closed, your hand leaping for his cheek. He kisses you so sweetly that you think, Maybe he did miss me more.

His thumb presses into your hip, his kiss ramping in urgency, and you fail to think about anything after that.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Text

Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 4/FINAL PART) / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 4.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: the real last part! i sincerely hope you enjoyed this series, it's very dear to my heart and so is all of the wonderful feedback you've given me on it. I love hearing what you think, it keeps me motivated to write more for you and I'm just so happy that I got to share this with you all. Thank you to anyone who's enjoyed this, I'm privileged to have shared your time and gotten your love in return. <333

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You feel like he’s gutted you. Like he’s plunged the hand holding the ring right into your stomach, twisted it so that the gem inside slits your insides into ribbons, and wrenched it back out dripping and glistening in crimson.

He looks so hopeful, eyes earnest and shining as he stares at you, that damn ring held between you like a life preserve. Like if you let him toss it over your finger, reel you in with his tender heartstrings, you wouldn’t drown. You’d escape the dreadful ocean of grief that’s been slowly filling your lungs since you’d left, you’d give your tired legs a break from treading water if you could just say yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue, and your achy heart begs you to say it, but you can’t.

Not when he doesn’t know.

“Bradley,” You whimper, reaching out to lay a gentle touch over his hand. You wrap your hand around both his own and the ring, squeezing tightly, “I have to tell you something.”

Bradley’s enthusiasm wanes. He hadn’t waited long enough. You’re not in love with him yet; he rushed into things just like he had before and he’d ruined it. How did he manage to ruin it two times? The best thing in his life, and he’s fucked it up twice in a row now.

You’re looking at him with eyes full of sadness, and he catches a flash of pity in them; just like he’d feared. His stomach sours and he balks, spooking like a startled horse.

“No, no. No, it’s okay, you’re- you’re not ready yet, sweetheart, that’s okay. We can wait,” He babbles, wrenching his hand out from your own and jamming the ring back into the drawer, like if he can just get it into a safe zone, it’ll hit undo on the entire fiasco.

“No, baby,” Your face screws up, a barely-withheld sob behind your frown, “Baby that’s not- we really need to talk. Okay? I promised we would today.”

“I- I know, but-” He stammers, trying to evade your gentle touch as you pry his hand back from his dresser drawer, the ring still clutched inside and lining his palm with a layer of sweat.

“Let me talk,” You plead, “Brad, I need to come clean. Please?”

He’s sure you can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows what little saliva there is in his mouth, “Okay.”

“Two weeks ago,” You start, and the words feel leaden on your tongue; impossibly heavy. “-before your crash. You- you remember Javy’s crash, yeah?”

“Yeah,” His breath catches in his throat, visions of his teammate's poor girlfriend swimming in his mind. Visions of the woman he never wanted you to have to be.

“That really-” You choke on a sob, “That really freaked me out, Bradley. I realized that you could go down like that. I- I’ve always known, y’know, ‘cause of your dad. But I just- I was so young when that happened, and it wasn’t fresh, so when Javy went down… I had this revelation. That I could-” Your voice tampers down into a weak whimper, “I could lose you, Brad. I could say goodbye to you one morning and not get to say hello again in the evening. I just- lost it,” You admit, brushing away stray hair from over your red-rimmed eyes, “I’m sure you noticed I wasn’t the most pleasant to say goodbye to in the mornings. But- but baby, I was always so happy when you came home, because it meant I had more time. It felt like some awful time bomb,” You recall, “Like every time I said goodbye to you would be the last, and I couldn’t rest until you were back home. I’ve never felt like that before, I’ve always had confidence in your abilities. Even on deployment, I know you’re working with people who have your back,” You sniffle, “I’ve always known you could die, but it’s never felt that much like you would before. But then- Javy wasn’t the one who crashed,” You explain, voice thick with blubbering tears, “I mean- that was just his jet malfunctioning. And then all of a sudden I- it was like I remembered that I could lose you in some freak accident. Like it wouldn’t have to be your fault, it could just happen, and you could die. Like your dad, Bradley, I- I didn't wanna lose you like we almost lost your dad."

“That is,” You collect yourself, swallowing a heavy sob that leaves your throat achy and gutted, “My nightmare, baby.” You tangle your fingers with his where you’re still clutching his hand, squeezing tight enough to probably bruise the guy, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I would die if I lost you, Brad. Even if I was alive, I’d be dead inside. I need you, I need you in my life, Bradley.”

What you’re saying sounds good to him. Terrible, of course, if he didn’t come home one day. But he is home, and you’re telling him you need him, and he can’t figure out why in the world you’ve said no twice to putting on the ring.

“You have me,” He vows, squeezing your hand right back, “Honey, you have me right here, right now. Why won’t you let me keep you?” He presses the ring into your palm, and you both feel the metal band burning your skin like it’s been superheated.

“You asked me to marry you before you crashed,” You blurt, and even though slamming a wrecking ball into your reverie of late feels like stabbing yourself in the chest, there’s something gratifying about telling the truth. About finally coming clean, about telling him exactly why you can’t say yes.

“You sat me down, and you gave me the sweetest speech in the world,” You recall with tears thick in your voice, “About how you loved me, and how you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and- and you proposed, and I said no.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, analyzing the grief in your voice. You sound anguished, like you’re upset with yourself for saying no, but you didn’t say yes this time around, so he can’t believe what he hears.

He takes a deep breath, cutting off whatever you’re going to say next, “I know.”

It feels good for him to come clean, too. Even if he's dreading what'll happen, even if he thinks there's a good chance you'll march out the door, he's glad to be done with the lies. He'd loved them while they'd lasted, but they went down in flames just like his jet.

“-and-” You stop, blinking twice, “What?”

“I know,” He admits, “I- I remember, honey.”

“You- what?” Your eyes widen, and you lean forwards, gazing imploringly at Bradley, “Brad, you- you remember? You remember everything now?”

“Yeah,” He nods, watching as you process the information.

You feel sick. You’re not sure why, because you’ve already told him the truth. But memories are different than retellings, and you both know that. No explanation on your part would have conveyed the crushed, betrayed look in his eyes when you’d declined his proposal; there’s not words in the english language suitable to describe how desperately he’d pleaded for you to stay, even in just the simplest of touches to your waist, trying to pull you back to him that night.

Now he remembers that, now you’re on the same page, and when you turn it, you’re not sure what you’ll see.

The end of a chapter? The beginning of a new one? Or the blank back cover of a book, perhaps, if your luck has run dry.

“When did your memories come back?” You ask, your voice sounding faraway and dazed in the back of your mind. You’re not even sure you’ve really said it, you’re too wrapped up in worrying about what he’s thinking. If your confession had spurred on his memories, you’re not sure you’ll ever get a chance to put on that ring.

Bradley swallows what little saliva is in his mouth, “A while ago.”

“How long?” Your brows furrow impossibly deeper, your brain running circles trying to figure out what’s real and what isn’t, “Like- like since this morning?”

“Since I woke up,” He confesses with a heavy heart, because lying to you hurt even if he’d loved the outcome, “In the hospital. I- I didn’t remember at first, but they came back, uh, in a few minutes.”

You feel like you’ve walked into a cloud of smoke. Everything around you is foggy, and your brain can’t process what he’s told you. It feels like he’s lying to you, like he’s tricking you and pretending that he’s known the entire time just so as not to feel foolish. But that’s not Bradley, he doesn’t need to be smarter than you, or faster than you, or better than you, so you know he’s telling the truth.

“But- why did you lie?” You stare at him with tears glimmering in your waterline, and he’s sure this is what he looked like when he’d asked you not to go that night. Betrayed, confused, heartbroken.

“Because you did,” Bradley whimpers, wanting nothing more than to swipe a thumb under your eye and gather the tears there on his skin, taking the burden away from you.

“You came in and you asked to kiss me, and- and I wanted you to. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, because I didn’t want you to walk out again, so I just- I lied. And I let you lie to me, too.”

You think back, and you remember how you’d walked back into the hospital room, on the verge of tears with nerves rolling in your belly. And you’d asked to kiss him, you’d given him the perfect opportunity to lie, and he’d taken it. And you can’t be mad at him, because you’d lied, too. You’re slightly hurt. It doesn’t feel good knowing that your lover- or, ex-lover lied to you. It feels even worse to know that Bradley lied because he thought you’d leave him if he told the truth. Like you’d turn tail and run, whooping through the parking lot about being free at last. But you’re the one that put that thought in his head; you’re the one that ran away. So you can’t blame him for keeping you on a short leash.

You feel too many things at once. You feel like a monster, like a cruel heartbreaker that had shattered Bradley’s to pieces. You feel confused, because you’re still processing that the past few days were entirely fake on both ends. You feel slightly betrayed, like you wish Bradley would have just told you. But you didn’t tell him either, and that makes you feel like an asshole. Too many feelings are bottled up inside, and they gush forth in a messy round of tears, one worse than Bradley’s ever seen from you.

It sets him in a panic, and he’d already been misty-eyed before. Now his own tears roll in fat droplets down his cheeks as he muscles down his sobs for your sake, dropping your hand only to take up your waist. He drags you closer on the bed, but it’s uncoordinated and a struggle as your limbs don’t cooperate. You’re limp like a ragdoll, and once he finally has you positioned in his lap he buries his face in your shoulder to soak his tears into your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, his chest heaving and shaking with sobs, “I’m sorry I lied. I shouldn’t have, I- I know it was wrong. I just- I wanted you to stay, honey. And I thought it would be okay if we were both lying, because then I could make you fall in love with me again, and- and it was a stupid plan, I’m sorry. I should have told you, I’m sorry, I- I never wanted to make you cry. I’m sorry, honey, please don’t- please don’t cry. I love you, please, don’t cry.”

He thinks he’s allergic to your tears. His chest hurts, his face burns, and the front of his shirt is slowly sticking to his chest where you’re crying against it. He’s not sure he can handle much more of this, he can barely breathe and if you don’t stop crying soon, his lungs might collapse. He doesn’t like that you’re crying; even though he knows its a messy situation, even though he knows it’s complicated beyond belief, he’s worried that lying to you fractured your trust in him, and that won’t look good on his permanent record, especially not when he’s waiting on a yes or no from you regarding marriage.

“Honey, please,” He knows he’s not the only one at fault, he knows you’re just as guilty for lying as he is, but you’d done it out of pity, and he’d done it out of greed. You’d played pretend with him so that he didn’t lay alone in a hospital bed, but he’d lied to you so that you wouldn’t leave. He’s kept you trapped, and he’s worried you’ll break free from the cage and run.

“I’m sorry,” He cries, clutching tighter at you when you try pulling away, scared you’re on your way out, “No, honey, please, I’m so sorry-”

“Stop apologizing!’ You beg, a raw quality to your throat that bleeds into your voice. You can’t take it anymore, you can’t let him blubber out sorry after sorry for something he’s not at fault for. You wish he’d been honest, sure, but you couldn’t possibly blame him for continuing the game that you started playing.

“Just- stop, please,” You breathe, quieter now this time. “I- You’re not the one that has to be sorry.”

“But I am,” Bradley gushes, clinging tight to you, still nervous you’re trying to leave. But you’re stationed to stay in his lap, smearing away tears with the skin of your wrists.

“Well don’t be.” You huff, frustration swirling in your chest, all self-directed, “Don’t- don’t apologize for my mistakes! Bradley,” You whimper, rubbing at your eyes hard enough to see swirls beyond your vision, “I left you. I rejected your proposal, and I left you, and then when you almost died, and forgot I left you, I lied to your face. You had amnesia, Bradley, and I lied to you, in what world should you be apologizing? You should hate me,” You decide, stomach churning at just the thought, “I’m so sorry, Bradley, I- I’m so sorry! You should be throwing me out, you should kick me to the curb, and-”

“I don’t hate you.” He says, his voice gruff. He says it plain and simple, like it’s easy. Like there’s no hard feelings, like he’s not perturbed at all by your dishonesty, your betrayal.

“I love you,” He continues, and oh, does that drive the nail into the coffin you’re trapped in, “I love you so much, honey, I just don’t understand you. Why did you leave?”

“I was so scared,” You’re getting tired of saying it, but you know you have to, “Javy crashed, and I realized you could, too. Brad, I’m so sorry, I was so selfish, I didn’t wanna go through that. I left you because I didn’t wanna get hurt. I- I left to save myself from mourning your loss. But it didn’t work, and- and you still crashed, and I still almost had to mourn your loss, and it still hurt, so- so bad, Bradley. It hurt so bad,” You blubber, and he pulls you back into his chest.

“I know,” He murmurs, and you can’t fathom why he’s still comforting you, why his large, calloused hand is rubbing sweet, soft, soothing circles over your back like you’re not a traitor, “I know, honey, I can’t imagine. I’m sorry you had to get that call.”

“Come on,” You plead, your fists clenched in Bradley’s shirt, nails digging into the fabric, “Bradley, this- this isn’t fair. You should be mad at me. Even if you-” You can barely say it, the thought sounding like a fantasy; too good to be true, “Even if you love me, you should be upset. That I left, that I- that I lied, you can’t do this. You can’t comfort me, and you can’t apologize.”

“I can, too.” He argues, his brows furrowed and his mustache turned down with his frown, “Sweetheart, I know you’re sorry about all those things, you told me yourself. I know you’re sorry you left, I know you’re sorry you lied, it’s okay. It hurt when you left, but I never hated you. I wanted you back,” He admits with a shaky voice, “I wanted to fix things. And when you asked to kiss me in the hospital, I chose to let you lie to me even though I knew the truth. I liked it, baby, I loved it, because I had you back. You’re sorry, and- and I’m sorry, and we’re both sorry, so let’s do something about it. Let’s fix it, baby, please.”

“I want to fix it,” You sob, “I really do, Bradley. I- I wanted to pretend forever,” You confess, “Because it felt like it did before I left, and- you have no idea how much I wanted that back, Brad.”

“Me too,” He agrees with a rough sniffle, “I- I wanted you to pretend forever, honey. I really did, I- that’s why I proposed again,” He cringes at the memory, at the second time he’d asked to no avail, “Because I just wanted you to keep pretending, and say yes, and I thought- I thought I might be able to make you love me again, so I went for it, but I shouldn’t have. I should- I should’ve talked to you first, I should have told you the truth, but I just- I was scared, and-”

“Oh, Bradley,” You gush, grabbing the back of his neck and tugging him down into a hug. You might be smothering him, you’re not sure if he can breathe where he’s buried in your shoulder, but he doesn’t care. He’s clutching you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t, and you’re horrified that he might really think that, but you understand why he does.

“Marry me,” He begs, “Please, honey, marry me. I’m not mad at you, I love you, please, just- just marry me, please. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me,” You promise, tears flowing steady down your cheeks, “Honey, I promise, I won’t walk out unless you want me to.”

“I don’t,” Bradley shakes his head, his arms encircling your waist even tighter now, “I don’t want that, honey, please- please don’t.”

“I won't,” You promise, “But Brad- do you want to marry me for love, or because you’re afraid I’ll leave if you don’t?”

“I love you,” He croaks into your shoulder, and you know he’s not lying to you now, “I mean- I mean of course I’m scared to lose you. But I’m scared because I love you, and I still wanted to marry you even before this happened, before I was scared. I’m not trying to tie you down so you can’t leave, I’m trying to love you forever. It’s love, honey, I love you.”

“I love you too,” You wail, unperturbed by your messy, tear-stained, snot-streaked faces as Bradley lifts his head out of your shoulder to kiss you. It’s desperate, sloppy, and uncoordinated, but it’s the first real kiss you’ve shared in a long time, and you wouldn’t change a thing about it if you could. It’s all desperate, grabby hands and quivering breaths as you familiarize yourselves with each other again, remember what it’s like to be honestly, truly in love with each other. You’ve thrown the lies away like a hardened cast, and the bones beneath it have mended, still tender but whole again. You can’t get enough of him, you can’t take your hands out of his hair and you can’t press your chest up against his enough. He feels the same, he can’t possibly tug your hips further against his own, and he can’t dig his nose any further into your cheek or he might poke a hole there. But he wants to, so he tries.

You’re ravenous, not with desire but with love, the purest and sweetest form of it. You’re so glad to have him back, to really have him back, that you can’t care about your leg falling asleep where it’s bent awkwardly against his lap, or the stickiness of his tears on your cheeks. All you care about is Bradley, all you know is Bradley, all you ever want to know is Bradley.

He reaches for your hand while still engaged in the kiss, and you swear you feel your heart crack when you pull yourself away to stop him in his tracks.

“Wait,” You pant, wondering why he’s doing the same when he’d practically stolen the air from your lungs, “You’re absolutely sure you want to marry me? Even though-”

“Jesus,” Bradley huffs, keeping the ring in one hand and reaching for your face in the other. He squishes your cheeks together, until your lips are puckered and he can brace his forehead against your own, eyes wide and grin exasperated, “Yes! Yes, I really want to marry you, even though you left, even though you lied. I lied, too, honey. You left because you were scared, and that’s why I lied. I get it, okay? I’m not gonna turn on you, I love you. I want to marry you.”

“But- but we should work through this,” You propose, pointedly not swatting him away when he poises the ring over your marriage finger.

“Okay. We can work through it in marriage counseling,” He promises with a breathless smile, the expression wholly genuine because for the first time in three weeks, he’s confident you’ll say yes, “Because I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?”

You’re not fucking this up a third time.

“Yes!” You gush, and you squeal when he jams the ring onto your finger, moving in for a kiss far more eagerly than you’re prepared for. It’s like being greeted by an overexcited puppy, one that’s a bit too big to be ramming into you, but that you can’t tell no. He kisses you voraciously, joining your hands together so that the metal band on your ring finger rubs against his own skin.

“I love you,” You pant, in a rare moment of being able to drag oxygen into your lungs, “And- I’m sorry. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Bradley swears, kissing you again before you can murmur any more apologies, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay, baby. We’ll work through it. You were scared, so I’ll help you however I can so that you’re not so scared. And I was scared, so I’ll probably be a bit of a clinger for a while. That’s it, baby, we don’t have to break up.” He promises, “That’s all it is, honey. We can work through it. We love each other, we can do this.”

“We do love each other,” Saying it feels like a blessing you’re casting over yourselves, an affirmation that you want to say in the mirror ten times before starting your day, “I love you, Bradley.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” He hums, dissuaded very little when you turn your head to look for your phone. He presses the same frequency of kisses to your cheek as he had your lips, and you let him smooch away at your face while you hunt for the device.

“Here!” You find it tangled in the bedsheets, “Brad, let’s tell everyone.”

“Hm?” He glances sideways at your phone, “Oh. Yeah, my parents are probably worried.”

“My dad, too.” You hum, “I told him at the store earlier.”

“I told my parents then, too.” He confesses, “But- but they’re not mad at you, or anything honey, they understand.”

You marvel at the revelation, that that's the reason Carole had been so confident bidding you goodbye.

“I.. told your mom already,” You realize you still haven’t put all of his puzzle pieces together for him, “Uh, she knew before you woke up, actually. She was the one to suggest that I pretend nothing happened. She didn’t want you to be too stressed in the hospital.”

His brow furrows where he’s in the middle of kissing your jaw, and he pulls back to evaluate the new information. But he’s not angry, more exhausted. He chuckles weakly, “I told her today, she pretended she had no idea. Damn, that woman is a good actor.”

“Very good,” You agree, snatching Bradley’s hand out of his lap to curl your own over the back of it. Your hands are stacked palm-to-back, with Bradley’s resting on the blanket and yours overtop. Your ring glistens in the afternoon sunlight and snapping a picture of it is one of the most gratifying things in the world, second only to the feeling of it laying permanently on your finger. You’ll have to put this one in the photo album, the beginning of a new chapter.

Bradley doesn’t let go of your hand after you snap the picture, only flips his own beneath it so that he can hold it more securely. He puts his chin over your shoulder to kiss your cheek as you use your only free hand to type out a group text message to your family members. Bradley’s squadron will be next on the list, but for now, your family receives the shot of your hands intertwined, a ring glistening on yours.

I said yes this time.💗

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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srvbryn · 8 months

Text

Luke Castellan. Moonlight

Luke Castellan X Hades!Daughter!Reader

FLUFF <333

Summary: "we're running in the moonlight, can you show me the way again?" In which Luke fucking Castellan somehow managed to make you fall in love even more with him (ts doesn't make sense btw 😭)

A/n: GOSHH I love him sm<33 can we ignore whatever he did in the books aaaaa & CHARLIE BUSHNELL is perfect 100% I'm so desperate if you look like Charlie Bushnell hmu 🥹🥹

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silver glow over the beach as Luke Castellan slipped away from Hermes Cabin.

His mischievous grin was illuminated by the moonlight, and he sought the company of a specific person - (Name), Hades forbidden daughter.

As he approached (Name)'s cabin, the shadows seemed to illuminated around him, concealing his movements.

Knocking softly, he waited for (Name) to open the door, her demeanour reserved and cool, a trait inherited from her godly lineage.

"Hey there, (Name)," Luke greeted, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "Mind taking a stroll with me? The beach is calling."

(Name) hesitated, her shy nature evident, but curiosity sparkled in her eyes. "Sure, Castellan. Just for a little while."

Avoiding watchful eyes, until they reached the shoreline.

The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as they found a secluded spot, away from prying eyes.

Luke interrupted the silence. "Wonderful night, isn't it? The moonlight reflects off the water like diamonds."

(Name) nodded, "It's... nice."

As they walked along the shore, "There's something mysterious about you."

A faint blush tinged (Name)'s cheeks. "Being Hades daughter tends to make people wary."

Luke chuckled. "Well, they don't know what they're missing. I find it intriguing."

(Name) shot him a quizzical look. "You do?"

"Absolutely. You've got this aura, but I think there's more to you than meets the eye."

They continued walking in companionable silence until Luke abruptly paused, his gaze fixed on the stars. "Hey, (Name), have you ever wished upon a star?"

(Name) shook her head. "Not really. Why?"

"I heard that wishes made under moonlit skies are more likely to come true," he replied, a playful glint in his eyes.

(Name) smirked slightly, a rare expression for her. "I doubt that."

"Care to test it out?" Luke grinned, taking (Name)'s hand gently. "Close your eyes and make a wish."

As (Name) closed her eyes, a genuine smile played on Luke's lips. "I wish for (Name) to open up, to let people see the warmth hidden beneath that exterior."

When (Name) opened her eyes, Luke's gaze softened. "Well, did it work?"

(Name) blushed, avoiding eye contact. "Maybe a little."

They resumed their walk, the atmosphere lighter. As the night wore on, they found themselves sitting on the sand, staring at the moonlit waves.

Luke turned to (Name), his expression earnest. "You know, (Name), I'm glad I sneaked out tonight."

(Name)'s cheeks flushed again, but this time, it was accompanied by a genuine smile. "Thank you, Luke. I enjoyed tonight."

Luke grinned, his mischief returning. "Well, maybe we should sneak out more often."

The air between Luke and (Name) crackled with an unspoken tension as they sat by the beach.

Luke turned to (Name), his eyes searching hers. "You know, sometimes words aren't necessary."

(Name) met his gaze, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

Without answering, Luke closed the distance, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. The world seemed to pause for that stolen moment.

As they pulled away, (Name) looked at him, her cheeks flushed. "Luke..."

He grinned, the spark returning to his eyes. "Some things are better felt than said."

A small smile played on (Name)'s lips. "I never expected this."

"Life's full of surprises," Luke replied, his tone sincere. "And this? This was a pleasant one."

They sat in a comfortable silence, the light casting a gentle glow over their intertwined fingers. Luke couldn't help but break the quiet. "Who would've thought the daughter of Hades could be so enchanting?"

(Name) rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Flattery won't get you far, Castellan."

He chuckled. "Maybe not, but it's worth a shot."

#Spotify #i love him #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo tv show #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #i love them #charlie bushnell

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reidmarieprentiss · 2 months

Text

Cream Cardigan

Summary: Seeing Spencer in this cardigan.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: use of Y/N

Word count: 550

a/n: foaming at the mouth because of this cardigan

main masterlist

In the soft glow of the jet's landing lights, Spencer stepped off the plane, his movements relaxed, almost leisurely. The team had just wrapped up a particularly exhausting case, and though the weight of the events lingered, Spencer appeared unusually at ease, his posture less tense than usual. Perhaps it had something to do with the new cardigan he was wearing, the fabric light against his skin, almost comforting in its softness. The cardigan was a delicate cream color, embroidered with intricate detailing on the pocket—a piece that seemed both vintage and modern, a blend of Spencer’s unique style.

As you caught sight of him, your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t just the cardigan that drew your attention, though that certainly played a part. There was something about the way Spencer wore it, the way it draped over his slender frame, the sleeves just a tad too long, brushing against his knuckles as he walked. It suited him perfectly, the pale color contrasting with the deep brown of his tousled hair.

You couldn’t help yourself. The words were out of your mouth before you could even think to stop them. “Hey, gorgeous.”

Spencer blinked, his gaze shifting from the tarmac to you, a slight flush creeping up his neck as he processed your words. “Oh, um, hey, Y/N…” he stammered, clearly caught off guard. His usual confidence in intellectual matters didn’t always translate to social interactions, especially when the compliments were so direct.

You smiled, taking a step closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. “I like your cardigan,” you remarked, letting your voice drop just a bit, enough to convey the sincerity behind the compliment.

Spencer’s eyes lit up at your words, his hand instinctively going to the hem of the cardigan as if to adjust it. “Thank you!” he replied, a touch of pride in his voice. “It’s new.”

You nodded, your gaze softening as you looked at him, taking in the way the cardigan seemed to bring out a different side of him, a slightly softer, more relaxed Spencer. “I know,” you said, a teasing note entering your voice. “I definitely would have remembered this one.”

Spencer chuckled, the sound warm and genuine, easing some of the tension between you. “Well, I’m glad you like it,” he said, his voice softer now, almost shy. “I wasn’t sure if it was too much…”

“Not at all,” you reassured him, reaching out to lightly touch the sleeve. The fabric was as soft as it looked, and you could feel the warmth of Spencer’s arm beneath it. “It’s perfect, just like you.”

The compliment hung in the air between you, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there in the dim light of the night. Spencer’s eyes met yours, something unspoken passing between you, a connection that neither of you fully understood but both felt deeply.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Spencer finally said, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze never leaving yours.

You smiled again, your heart swelling at the sight of his shy smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the way the cardigan somehow made him look both younger and wiser at the same time. “Anytime, Spencer,” you replied softly. “Anytime.”

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tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna @charismatic-writer @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg

#doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #bau team #bau family #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fluff

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heavenlyvision · 10 months

Text

When hell thaws

Word count: 12.6k

Pairing: Bi-Han x F!Reader

This is part 5 to my 'When hell freezes over' series, read all the other parts below :3

one two three four

A/N: It is done !!! As always, thank you for your patience, I hope it has been worth the wait. Enjoy <333

Summary: After a training move gone wrong, you are forced to deal with a minor injury, one that seems to upset Bi-Han more than it upsets you. In the end, you take the initiative to show him just how okay you are.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst (only little bit), minor injury, dirty talk, grinding, cum eating, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, overstimulation, open missionary sex, clit slapping, Soft!Bi-Han, Menace!Bi-Han, no use of y/n

In the morning when you wake up, Bi-Han is already awake, back resting against your headboard. Your head is resting in his lap, one of his hands relaxing on your back, rubbing you soothingly.

You’re a little surprised he stayed in the bed with you, “You’re still here?”

He looks down to you, his hand moves to your head and strokes your hair, “I thought if I left, you would get angry with me again.”

“You could’ve woken me up,” you tell him.

Shaking his head at you, he says, “You looked peaceful, did not want to wake you before you were ready.”

His words are sweet, they make you incredibly happy but you tell him, “From now on, if you need to leave, you can wake me up to say goodbye. You’re not trapped here with me until I wake up.”

“I like being trapped here with you,” he smiles at you.

“You’re being especially docile this morning,” you observe.

He rolls his eyes at you, finding your comment stupid, “Well excuse me for enjoying your company.”

You laugh at him and his dramatics as you pull yourself up, you rest on your legs, kneeling on the bed. You stretch up, your muscles screaming at you lightly as you do, tender from last night, “You need to be more gentle with me, I am sore all over today.”

One of his brows raise at you, “You always beg for me to be rougher.”

You pout in response at him, it’s true that you always want it rough, you just regret it in the morning.

“I can be gentle with you next time,” it sounds like a kindness but by the look on his face you feel like he would drive you mental, fucking you slowly and never pushing you over the edge.

“Why do I feel like that’s a threat?” You ask him.

He doesn’t reply and instead smiles evilly at you.

The way you look at him is filled with scrutiny and his smile turns more sincere, his arms open for you to enter them. You take him up on his offer and fall into him, he holds you in a warm embrace.

“I can be more gentle with you, if that’s what you want?” He tries again, more earnest this time.

You pull back to look at him, you feel warm in the face as you admit to him, “No I like the way we…” you trail off.

“…Fuck.” He finishes for you.

Sighing you say, “Yes… I just need a bit to recover or you’ll break me.”

He glows with pride at your words, loving that he can and does tear you apart.

“Bi-Han!” You call his name, bringing his attention back to the topic at hand.

Looking back to you he says, “I can be gentle with you, sweet girl… for a week.”

You’ll take it, “Thank you,” you smile kindly at him.

He looks soft for you before he comes back to himself, asking, “Just to be clear, that doesn’t mean no sex, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t mean no sex,” you confirm for him.

He nods once, “Good.”

“You are impossible,” you sigh again, leaning back onto his chest.

The pair of you stay like this for a while, wrapped up in each other, both not wanting to start your respective days. As you lay on top of him, you find yourself pining for more from him, the sex is great and the talk you had was more than you could’ve asked for, but you want more moments with him that aren’t sexually charged.

“Bi-Han?” He hums at you in response, signalling you to continue talking, you feel a bit hesitant as you say, “I want more from you… more than just sex.”

He pulls you away to look at you properly, “This hasn’t been just sex to me, ever.”

As you look him in the eyes and see the way he’s looking back at you, you believe him, without a hint of doubt. That doesn’t change the fact that you want more, you want more moments where you share things with each other or enjoy each other’s company. You want a relationship.

“I believe you… but that doesn’t change how I feel about this,” you motion between the two of you.

His large hand holds the side of your face tenderly, “Whatever you need from me, I will give it to you.”

“I want something like a date? I want to eat dinner with you… or something,” you mumble slightly, it feels a bit silly to tell him but you want more connection. You don’t tell him about wanting a label, maybe you’ll bring it up at a better time.

His lips rise in a faint smile, amused at your hesitation over a simple request, “Done. I will plan something.”

“You will?” You can’t hide the way you’re surprised by his unquestioning willingness.

One of his brows raise at you, “Were you expecting me to deny you?”

You feel a little sheepish as you admit, “Well… I was prepared for it.”

His smile grows as he shakes his head at you, “Sweet, sweet girl, you have no idea how much you have me wrapped around your finger.” He chuckles lightly and pulls you back into him, back in your previous positions.

The words he speaks make you giddy, having confirmation about his feelings for you always makes you happy. Knowing that he feels the same for you as you do for him is a reassuring thing to hear. Especially since you want to ask for more, more than just ‘fucking’.

His chest vibrates underneath you as he talks, “Do you have training today?”

“I think so but I don’t think it’s going to be a long day.” You hum your reply.

You know you should get up soon but you don’t want to leave him, being in his arms is probably one of your favourite places.

“I have to get up,” your words are muffled by the material of his robe.

“Go on then,” he encourages.

Lifting yourself up, you go to move away from him but just as you’re almost sitting upright, he pulls you back to him and holds you firmly.

You chuckle at him and then enquire, “Are you going to let me go?”

“When I am ready,” he answers.

“And when will that be?”

He thinks on it for a while before deciding, “Never.”

He is uncharacteristically affectionate this morning, it’s nice but it’s also mildly concerning. You decide not to say anything about it, in fear of upsetting him or causing him to draw back. Which is not what you want.

You instead ask him, “What are you doing today?”

“Whatever you are doing,” his reply is nonchalant.

You pull away just to look at him dubiously, “You’re going to join me and everyone else for training?”

“Sure,” he shrugs but his eyebrow twitches slightly, it makes you smile fondly at him.

Reaching your thumb up, you gently rub between his brows, easing the seemingly constant frown on his face. He relaxes his brows, unfurrowing under your touch.

“I think, you might injure someone if you join us for training,” you murmur, still massaging his forehead.

His eyes glint with pleasure at the idea and you roll yours at him. Sighing he says, “I will not injure any of your friends… not because I like them but because I like you.”

Of course, that’s how he feels, “I don’t think it was necessary that you add that at the end of your statement.”

“It was,” he looks to you firmly, making sure you understand that he does not like them and this kindness is only for you. It honestly shouldn’t make you feel good but you can’t help the flutter in your heart.

His hand grabs your wrist, stopping your massage. He pulls you to him and your lips lock in a tender kiss, or about as tender as Bi-Han is capable of giving. Which is considerably more than you’d think from just looking at him.

You hum against him, always appreciative of his kisses. His hands grab you and then he’s pushing you backwards. You’re on your back with him on top of you, your heads at the wrong end of the bed now. His lips never left yours, the kiss burning with need. Bi-Han’s hands pull your thighs apart enough to slip his waist between them. Your own hands grab onto the back of his neck.

The kiss deepens when you gasp against him, his cock grinding into you slightly shocking you pleasantly. His tongue is in your mouth now, his kisses insistent and full. Your legs wrap around the small of his back and hold him to you, he’s dry humping into you and it feels delicious. Your sleep addled and hazy brain thankful for the sensations he’s giving you.

Both of your movements are lazy and unhurried, the only thing that is hurried are Bi-Han’s kisses. They’re fervent and unforgiving, the way he licks into your mouth and grinds down against you has small sighs and whimpers passing your lips. Sounds that he is forever grateful for, if his groans are anything to go by.

The knock on your door is sudden and sharp, you gasp surprised by the loudness of it. You break the kiss and Bi-Han groans, extremely annoyed by the intrusion.

“What?” He growls out to whoever is at the door.

“I thought you might be here Bi-Han; Liu Kang is looking for you,” It’s Tomas, you think. You can’t be completely sure, not after you’ve just been kissed stupid.

Bi-Han rolls his eyes, “Go away.”

“I would… but you are wanted,” Tomas urges, his tone a little worried about pushing Bi-Han.

“Thank you, Tomas. He will join you shortly,” you try to sound as polite and normal as possible as you call out to him.

He’s apprehensive as he says, “Okay, uhm… Good morning,”

His kindness makes you smile faintly, “Good morning,” you chirp back to him.

Bi-Han repeats, his voice gruffer than before, “Go away.”

You frown at Bi-Han in a reprimanding manner, telling him to be kinder to Tomas. His eyes look unmoved, still completely irritated. His head drops to your shoulder, you jump when you feel he’s still hard against you, it makes your face hot.

Bi-Han’s lips start nipping at your neck lightly, pressing kisses against you. His hips lightly grinding into you again, the feeling makes your brain feel fuzzy. Your thoughts and critical thinking skills slipping away from you.

Clearly, Bi-Han is uninterested in continuing his conversation with his brother, his last words meant as just that, a finality intending to conclude the interaction.

“I will be going now, goodbye,” Tomas rushes out, wanting to get away from the two of you and understanding Bi-Han enough to know he’s not going to address him further.

If Bi-Han hadn’t begun mouthing at the side of your neck, you think you would’ve scolded him or died from embarrassment. Just because everyone knows about the two of you now, doesn’t mean you can make it obvious when you are having your more intimate moments. Moments you would rather remain between the two ofyou.

You want to say something to him but you only manage a whine as his grinding comes firmer, your hands hold his shoulders, pushing him back to look at him. The expression on his face is beyond pleased with the one you have on yours.

“I don’t have to do much to you at all for you to look fucked out,” he hums at you.

You frown at him, “Bi-Han, you’re needed elsewhere,” your words are whiney, they don’t display the seriousness you are trying to get across.

“I am needed where I am,” he replies coolly and it makes you frown at him, “How about this,” he begins, his smile is devious. “You cum in your little panties and I will leave without argument.”

His proposition makes your pussy throb and your cheeks burn, “I doubt that’s –hah– true,” though tempting you really don’t think he’d leave you with no argument.

“Only one way to find out, sweet girl,” he purrs to you, leaning down and kissing you again.

Distantly, you wonder why he was ever so annoyed about the interruption, it doesn’t seem to have slowed him down at all.

With the way the hardness of his dick ruts against you, you can’t think straight, any witty retort you would offer dying before your brain can even think of it, let alone speak it. He’s driving you up a wall and as your moans slip past your lips into his mouth, he swallows them down. His kiss is ravenous for you and he’s making you lightheaded.

He pulls back, allowing air into your lungs. You’re panting against him; his face is smug as he watches how much he’s affected you like this. Just from his clothed cock and full kisses.

“Always make the cutest faces for me,” he murmurs to you, his lips brush over yours faintly.

One of his hands hold the side of your face, while the other grips your thigh, keeping you firmly pressed against him. His grinding doesn’t stop, he’s determined to make you cum like this now. Obsessed with the idea of your cum soaking your panties.

You’re still sensitive from last night and the way he keeps grinding right into your clit has you on the edge. Dangerously close to tipping over.

He groans out to you, “Bet you’re so fucken wet right now.”

You confirm it for him, humming in agreement that yes, you are so wet for him right now. You have a filthy idea that you think would make him feral. One of your hands leave his neck and slip down, under your waist band, temporarily interrupting his grinding but only for a moment. Your fingers swipe through your folds quickly, coating them before pulling them away and presenting them to Bi-Han.

His eyes light up with how barely contained his arousal is, he’s humping into you again, needy. His hand removes itself from your face and snatches your wrist, pulling your fingers towards him, his mouth envelops your fingers, sucking them clean. You gasp out a whine at him, it’s completely depraved and has you so close to finishing.

You can feel the way his cock jumps against you as he sucks your fingers clean, he’s grunting around them, seemingly closer to finishing than you would’ve thought. Your action has caused his mask of control to slip. Your fingers withdraw from his mouth and his hand grabs your face again, his eyes are burning into your own. The assumption you made was correct because he has the most feral look on his face right now and it’s making you quiver with excitement, with pleasure.

“Dirty, you play dirty, trying to fffucken kill me,” he groans at you, his words slurring a little bit. His lips press to yours again, occupying himself with kissing you.

You’re so close to finishing, one word from him and you think you’d cum immediately. And he must be incredibly in tune with your body and its tells, because he parts from your lips and presses his right up against your ear.

“Come on, sweet girl, cum in your panties for me hmm?” He blows cold air against your ear.

It’s all too much and has you cumming, moans and whimpers falling from your mouth. Bi-Han keeps grinding into you, close to finishing himself. Both his hands are on your hips now, having drawn back to slide you up and down his clothed cock. You’re twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm and the sight of you has an evil grin plastering itself onto Bi-Han’s face.

With how he’s pulled back, he can see the wet spot on your sleep shorts from your orgasm, “Got the –ngh– creamiest little cunt, came in your panties for me, such a sweet thing.” His words are becoming more growls and moans than anything else, he’s so close to his end.

“Want you to cum too, Grandmaster,” your voice is small, fucked out and barely present.

But your words affect him deeply, he comes with a bite of your name, falling back down onto you. His hips twitch into yours, sensitive but refusing to stop his grinding movements.

He groans and tucks his head into your neck, “Got me cumming in my clothes like a damn teenager.”

“You loved it,” you singsong to him.

Lifting himself off you, he pulls your sleep shorts off, looking at your cum soaked panties. He grunts at you, “I would’ve stuffed you full if you hadn’t just asked me to be gentle with you.” He smirks, “I did love making you cum in your panties though.”

His thumb rubs over the wet spot and you twitch in response, his eyes stay on your covered cunt, enamoured by the view. He tugs your panties off too and spreads your pussy lips for his viewing pleasure, his gaze forever greedy.

Your legs fight against him, embarrassed by his bold actions. He easily holds you open, unphased by your attempts to push him away.

“Only thing I’m disappointed in, is that you aren’t full of my cum,” he says mostly to himself, his thumb swipes through your slick before he holds it to his mouth and sucks it clean.

You groan at him in embarrassment, “You say, the nastiest stuff, Bi-Han.”

“And you like it, can feel how tight you grip me when I whisper filthy shit to you,” he chuckles at your humiliation.

Leaning down, he plants a final and firm kiss on your lips before getting off the bed and standing up, stretching his muscles. You roll onto your stomach to watch him move around the room.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

He raises a brow as he looks back at you, “What for?”

“Being gentle,” your smile is bright as you look at him.

He hums at you dismissively, “Don’t need to thank me for that.”

“I know… but I will anyways,” you return.

He’s gone after that, cleaning himself up and doing the walk of shame back to his room so he can change and meet with Liu Kang. It was amusing, watching him try and make himself presentable enough to walk back, you don’t think he was planning on staying this long this morning but it’s still early enough to get back mostly unnoticed… hopefully.

You have a moment of realisation, Bi-Han kept his end of the deal. He made you cum in your panties and then he left with no arguments, it makes you laugh.

⋆⁺₊❅.

The morning goes by slowly and training is mostly uneventful, at least it is until Bi-Han shows up. You’re a little worried that he will spar with everyone like he joked, but all he really ends up doing is watch you.

“He became your guard dog real quick,” Johnny says, referencing your previous taunt of calling Bi-Han, Liu Kang’s guard dog.

“He’s not my guard dog,” you say.

Kung Lao pokes Johnny in the ribs, teasing him, “Be careful Johnny, he looks like he bites.”

He does.

You look back at him and see he’s already watching you; his arms are crossed over his chest; you can’t help the way your eyes linger over his arms. When you snap out of it and look back to his face you can see that he definitely caught your shameless staring, one of his brows raised at you.

Your head flips forward in record time, thankfully everyone was chatting amongst themselves and didn’t catch you getting an eyeful of Bi-Han. You would never have heard the end of it, though unfortunately, you know Bi-Han is staring at you. You can practically feel his eyes raking up and down your body.

Kenshi moves in closer to quietly ask you, “Have you guys decided what you refer to each other as?”

They all move in closer, being cautious, in case Bi-Han can hear you. Which you sincerely doubt.

You think you know what he means but you aren’t quite certain, “What do you mean?”

Kung Lao clarifies for you, “Like, is he your boyfriend, partner…”

“Guard dog?” Johnny jokes.

You roll your eyes at him, “I don’t really know… we haven’t spoken about it.”

“What do you want to refer to each other as,” Raiden enquires.

You think on it a bit, calling him your boyfriend feels juvenile, but it also makes you smile. “I don’t really know; I’d prefer if he stopped telling everyone we’re ‘fucking’ though.”

“Maybe you need to talk about it,” Kenshi pushes.

You look at him questioningly, “What, right now?”

“Yes! Right now,” Johnny encourages, no doubt only wanting to see what would happen between the two of you.

Kung Lao side eyes Johnny, “No, not right now.”

“When you are ready,” Raiden adds.

As you stand here, you feel mildly compelled to go ask Bi-Han now, but you don’t know how he’ll react, and you’d prefer to have privacy. The small part of you that wants to know doesn’t win out against the rational side of you.

“I already have plans to talk with him about it and it’s not going to be now,” you state very clearly, mostly for Johnny.

Johnny sighs, disappointed that he won’t be around to witness the conversation when it happens.

“Let’s just finish up for today, I am tired,” you complain.

“I wonder why,” Johnny nudges you, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Ew,” you say, pushing him off you and laughing at his stupidity.

You wish you could say that the rest of training flies by, but with Bi-Han’s eyes on you and everyone else aware of his presence, it goes by agonisingly slow. He’s throwing you off your game and when you go to kick, your stance is off, resulting in a pretty gnarly sprained ankle.

It’s embarrassing when you fall to the ground because of it, the pain is bad and honestly you don’t even know how you managed to do this much damage. You try to get up quickly, not wanting the attention on you but you fall right back down. The blood is rushing through your head, and you can’t hear properly.

The guys are all standing in front of you, asking if you’re okay and its overwhelming you. With the pain and embarrassment, you feel like you might shed a couple tears, which would embarrass you even more.

Bi-Han pushes his way past them and kneels down directly in front of you, his hand reaches out to affectionately touch your face, trying to focus all your attention on him, “Sweet girl, are you okay?” His tone is gentle as he speaks to you.

The guys behind you look shocked by him but are still concerned for you, refusing to leave until they hear you confirm that you are okay. Having so many people care for you is making you self-conscious.

“Mm okay, it’s only a little sprained,” you try brushing it off, going to pull yourself up again but he lightly pushes you back down.

“Can you wiggle your toes?” He asks, carefully he pulls your shoe off to see if you can.

You can move them, but it makes you wince, face twisting in pain.

“Some fucken sprain, I’ll need to take off your wrapping to see the damage.” He comments.

You nod to him, “Okay, I’m okay, it’s not that bad.”

That damn brow of his raises at you, knowing you’re putting on a front for the sake of your self-esteem.

His hands are light as he unwraps your leg, careful not to move you too much. When it’s unwrapped, the guys all look a little worried and Bi-Han frowns at your ankle. Looking at it yourself, you can see why, it’s very swollen in a short amount of time. It will probably bruise, and it will be a massive pain in your ass for the next couple of weeks. Great. Walking on this is going to be just downright, delightful.

You try to assure them, “This is okay, it’s not that bad,” Bi-Han is not convinced by your optimism, not in the slightest, “Honestly, I could probably walk on it,” you insist.

He shoots back at you, “Don’t be difficult, this is obviously not okay.”

“There isn’t much you can do for a sprain though,” you shrug.

“You can stay off it,” Kenshi interjects.

“You can ice it,” Kung Lao adds.

Raiden also says, “You can elevate it,”

“You can take some pain meds,” Johnny continues.

You huff at them, “Okay, thank you doctors.”

“You will be doing all of the above, especially staying off it.” Bi-Han directs.

“But that’s going to be sooooo boring,” not being able to go anywhere too far cuts out almost every place you like going to. Gods, you didn’t realise how much you liked walking until Bi-Han took it from you.

He rolls his eyes at you, fast enough that if you blinked you would have missed it, but you didn’t and you give him a dirty look to tell him as much.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to your room.” He says.

You go to give him your hand for him to pull you up but instead he stands and then grabs your waist, hoisting you up easily. You rest all of your weight on your good foot, he goes to pick you up, but you stop him, “Hold on, I want to try walking first.”

He grunts at you but doesn’t pick you up, knowing that arguing with you is more often than not fruitless. Carefully, you put your weight onto your other foot, trying to step forwards on it but it almost immediately rejects that move and you shake, threatening to collapse. Bi-Han’s hands grab you, not willing to watch you try and do this to yourself.

He picks you up in a princess carry, beginning to walk away with you. “Wait,” you object. Bi-Han stops, and you address the guys, “Thank you all, I’m really okay though, it’s not that serious,” you smile at them, trying to convince them of your fine status.

“You know we saw it, right?” Kenshi says, his eyebrows scrunched at you.

They all nod their heads in agreeance with Kenshi and say something to the same effect, all coming to the consensus that, yes, it is that bad.

“Whatever, shut up,” you pout at them, embarrassed.

Bi-Han chuckles at you but walks away again, taking you back to your room. The walk back is uncomfortable, due to the pain in your ankle and the way you’re stewing in your annoyance. Annoyed that you managed to do something so stupid in front of everyone.

Back in your room, Bi-Han sits you gently on your bed. He walks away wordlessly to find your first aid kit and a tea towel before returning to your side, sitting beside you.

“Shouldn’t you find an ice pack or something?” You ask.

“Sweetie, you’re dating a walking ice pack or something,” a smirk is faintly present on his lips. His words make you flush, he’s acknowledging that you’re dating.

“Bi-Han I have a question,” you suppose now is as good a time as any.

He hums at you in response, the tea towel he grabbed is placed over your ankle before his hands turn to ice, trying to avoid direct contact to your skin. Softly, he lays his hands around your ankle, it’s faintly cold and your skin pricks a bit at the feeling.

It also hurts but you ignore it, determined to show no pain, too proud to admit that it hurts pretty bad. You can’t help but feel embarrassed because if it was even somewhat worse, you think you might’ve passed out.

Ignoring the pain you press forward, though you aren’t really sure how to phrase this, “Are… would you… hmm, what am… what are we?” You eventually settle on, after stumbling over your words.

“You are mine, and I am yours,” he says simply, like his statement cleared everything up completely.

This time you hum at him, “But like… are you, my boyfriend?”

His eyes shoot to yours; they glint slightly. You aren’t sure if you’ve upset him or not. You feel incredibly childish asking him like this.

“You can call me whatever you want,” his tone is level, unreadable.

Looking away from him, you say, “I don’t know if I would refer to you as my boyfriend… but I’d like it if you were.” You’re still dancing around your actual question, and you think he knows it.

He smiles lightly before he suppresses it, “Cute,” is all he says.

“Bi-Han,” you whine at him, needing him to express what he’s feeling more. You’re trying to feel him out and he’s making it difficult on purpose.

He looks straight at you, his hands still holding your ankle, “What are you actually trying to ask me?”

You bite the bullet, “I want to know… If we’re in a relationship.”

“I’ve been operating under the assumption that we are, have you not thought so?” His eyes are questioning.

“You never asked or said anything! I didn’t think we were labelled,” you huff at him, “Bi-Han, you need to get better at telling me things.”

“I thought I had,” he mutters.

“When?” You are confused as to when he would’ve even brought up being in a relationship with you.

He sighs at you, “I should have been clearer…”

It’s kind of funny how unsure you’ve been, wondering what you were to him, while simultaneously, he was going about his business assuming the pair of you had been in a relationship the whole time. To be fair, you kind of had been, it just wasn’t explicitly stated and that’s where your uncertainty stemmed from. You need some kind of verbal agreement.

You tell him, “It’s not completely your fault, I could’ve brought this up sooner,” you’re itching to touch him right now, whether to comfort him or be comforted by him, you aren’t sure, “But to be clear, we are in a relationship, and we are exclusive?”

His eyebrow twitches, “You hadn’t assumed we were exclusive?”

“I mean no, I don’t know, you weren’t clear, and neither was I… I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same and wouldn’t want to be with only me, so I didn’t say anything,”

“So, you were with someone else,” he’s working himself up, you can tell.

“No!” You’re very firm and quick, not wanting him to spiral, “No, I was only ever with you… I only ever wanted you; I just wasn’t sure that’s what you wanted.”

“I didn’t think I had ever given you a reason to doubt that,” his forehead is creased from the way his eyebrows pull together.

“I didn’t, not really, but I’ve also felt a little in the dark about your motivations.” You’re being completely honest at the moment and it’s making you feel vulnerable. “I want to be with you.”

“And I want to be with you, only, you,” he confirms.

You release a breath you weren’t aware you were holding onto, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He questions.

“Upsetting you,” you feel guilty for the whole conversation.

“I’m not upset,” you look at him doubtfully, “Well I’m not upset at you, I’m upset with myself for not being clearer.”

You’re smiling at him, “I’m glad we talked.”

“I wish we had talked sooner, had you thinking you weren’t mine,” he grunts at you.

“I’m your girlfriend, your partner, your lover?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him, teasing him, attempting to lighten the mood.

“All of the above,” his hands move away from your ankle, done with icing it for the time being. He moves further up the bed, his face close to yours, “But most importantly, you. are. mine.” He murmurs before leaning in to kiss you.

The kiss is warm and filled with so many emotions, you kiss him back, but he pulls away quicker than he usually would, “I will get better at sharing my thoughts with you.”

You think that is the most romantic thing he has ever said to you, and it makes you downright giddy, “Okay and I will ask you directly, if I am confused,” you can’t supress the smile breaking out across your face.

Poking his side, you tease, “You’re my boyfriend,” you’re teasing because it’s a stupid term for adults to use but you also like it more than you probably should.

“Are you sure I’m not your guard dog?” He teases back. The surprise on your face is obvious, “Your friends are not as quiet as they think they are.” He noses at the side of your face before whispering to you, “Do they know that I do bite?” Okay if this is what teasing really looks like, than you aren’t really sure what you were doing.

His words make you hot all over, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You find yourself forever grateful that Kenshi had enough discretion to be quieter with the second half of that conversation.

A hum is his reply to you, his hand on your face strokes your cheek gently, “I will take pity on you, since you are injured.” He presses a kiss to your cheek and pulls away.

“It’s not that bad,” you try maintaining and at the moment it really isn’t that bad, his hands successfully numbed the pain.

“I have eyes,” he counters.

You complain to him, “I don’t want to be stuck in this room all day.”

“You’ll be able to limp around in a day,” he says, though you have a feeling he won’t let you limp very far.

He reaches over and grabs a couple pillows, he carefully places them under your foot to elevate it, “I’ll wrap it after I ice it again.”

“Will you stay with me again, tonight I mean?”

“You’re gonna have a hard time getting rid of me now, sweet girl.” He chuckles before adding, “And I think If I don’t watch you, you’ll probably go off wandering around the grounds and hurt yourself more.”

“I would not,” you protest but he pretty much got it dead on, if you were forced to lay down all day, you’d eventually get bored and go looking for things to do. Even if it was to your own detriment.

And by the look on his face, he knows he is right.

There’s a knock on your door and it surprises you, you aren’t expecting anyone to come see you. Bi-Han’s face pulls up into a scowl and you laugh at him, calling out you ask, “Who is it?”

“Liu Kang,” his voice is even, albeit a little concerned, maybe?

You can’t hide the surprise in your voice as you call to him, “Oh, come in.”

He walks into your room and moves straight to your side, “I heard what had happened, are you okay?”

“I am okay, it’s not that bad.” You assure him, at least you try to.

“That’s not what I heard,” Liu Kang says as his eyes look to Bi-Han, who is making a face expressing that you’re lying.

“Needless to say, you won’t be joining training for a bit,” he continues.

You don’t think it’ll be that long, “I mean, give me a couple days and I will be fine–”

“No,” Bi-Han speaks over you.

You are not quiet about your annoyance over this, “Bi-Han it’s fine, I’ll be good in a couple days, four tops!”

“It will be more like a week or two,” he shakes his head at you, “You can walk on it in a day, to encourage the healing process but actual training is off the table, for a bit.”

You sigh at him; he’s clearly not going to budge on this. Though that won’t stop you from trying to push him later.

You try looking to Liu Kang for help, but he doesn’t offer any, “I agree with Bi-Han, take it easy and focus on healing.”

You groan, “What the hell.” Quite frankly, you are not used to people showing so much concern for you, it’s foreign and a little bit annoying.

Liu Kang stays for a bit, talking with you, much to Bi-Han’s dismay but you enjoy his company, you had not spoken with him like this in a while and you missed it. He does eventually leave, once he’s satisfied with your wellbeing and the conversation naturally dwindles. You’re a little sad to see him leave, you would’ve liked to talk with him more but he’s a busy guy and Bi-Han’s annoyance at his lingering presence can only be ignored for so long.

“I’d walk you to the door, but I don’t think Bi-Han would let me get far,” you quip to Liu Kang as he leaves.

Bi-Han grunts at your joke.

Liu Kang smiles faintly at you, “I don’t think your ankle would allow you to get very far either,” he jests back. He’s gone after that.

“He stayed too long,” Bi-Han complains.

You lightly bop him on the nose with your finger, “No he didn’t, you’re just grumpy.”

He grunts at you again, but then he moves back to your ankle and ices it some more. Numbing the dull ache for you, his care for you makes your stomach have butterflies. It makes you happy, how he cares about you, but you’re also distressed, independence is something you pride yourself on and all this fuss he’s making over you is new and unfamiliar.

After he is done icing your ankle, he wraps it up, compressing it. Hopefully to help with the swelling. And like you suspected he would, he stays with you the whole day, keeping you company to prevent you from getting bored and wandering off.

It’s pleasant, having his company but that’s always true.

⋆⁺₊❅.

Later in the evening when dinner rolls around, he walks through your door with both your meals. “They all kept asking about you,” he groans.

“And what did you say,” you press, worried about what he may have said.

“Not much of anything, mostly ignored them.”

Your immediate response is to laugh but you hold it back because they care about you and want to know how you’re doing and right now, no one knows how you’re doing better than Bi-Han. Which is, very unfortunate for them.

“Tell them I’m doing well next time.”

He’s unconcerned as he says, “I told them you were fine.”

“Good,” you don’t ask for further details, not wanting to know exactly what he said for your own peace of mind.

Once you’ve finished dinner, he leaves to return the dishes and grab his sleep wear, along with some fresh clothes for tomorrow. While he’s gone you want to try and have a shower, you feel gross after training today and you haven’t had the chance to wash yourself, not with Bi-Han’s hovering.

You unwrap your ankle carefully and… yeah, it’s still really swollen and achy. Releasing a breath, you prepare yourself for standing up. You’re a little shaky but you manage and with the help of all the furniture in your room, you successfully hobble your way to the bathroom.

Speed is a concern because it won’t take Bi-Han long to get back and you’ll be annoyed if he stops you from having your shower. Undressing is a challenge but it’s no match for you and your unbridled determination.

A sigh of relief falls from you as you finally make it into the warm shower, finally able to wash yourself. Your ankle is protesting about every minimal move you make but it’s worth it for the warm water.

Right as you’re able to ignore the ache enough to enjoy your shower, Bi-Han rushes into the bathroom, startling you. You almost lose your footing in the shower, but your hands come up quickly to grip the walls, enough to steady yourself.

“What the hell?” You’re irritated, he just made an attempt on your life.

He looks almost as annoyed as you, actually… he might look more annoyed than you, “What are you doing?”

“I wanted a shower, I felt gross.” Your voice is small.

He starts angrily stripping himself of his clothes, “And you couldn’t have waited for me?”

You don’t answer, instead pouting and looking away from him. He opens the door and slips into the shower with you. There isn’t a lot of room, and it’s not even like the shower is small, he’s just a big guy.

“Should’ve waited for me, what if you fell over?” He presses.

Frowning at him, you say, “The only time I almost fell over was when you burst in here, frightening me.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “But my point still stands, going to the toilet or grabbing something from across the room is one thing, having a shower is another, you could have hurt yourself while I was gone.”

You make a sound of acknowledgement at him, not wanting to be scolded any further, “You’re taking up a lot of room.” You observe.

“Deal with it, you’re either showering with me or you’re done showering,” he grumbles at you.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” you shrug, his large size is something about him that has bewitched you.

His eyes look into your own knowingly, he’s aware of how much you enjoy being manhandled in bed. He reaches behind you, a hand coming up to your back to keep you steady as he grabs the soap. His skin touching yours makes you dizzy, he’s large and wet and naked and you want to drop to your knees for him right now.

“Stop having perverted thoughts, I’m not doing anything to you until you heal,” he speaks into your ear.

You complain, “But it’s my ankle and it’s nothing serious.”

“Needy little thing,” he smirks at you.

Rolling your eyes and huffing out a sigh, you try your very best to not think about the heavy weight of his cock in your mouth but it’s a paradox and now all you’re thinking about is sucking his dick, like you had said you would. Though, he still hasn’t changed your sheets like he was meant to.

“Still present, sweet girl?” He asks you.

You’re brought back from your thoughts, and you smile at him, “I’m here, sorry.”

He checks with you, “I’m gonna wash you, okay?”

“Okay,” you confirm.

He lathers your body with the soap, it’s intimate how attentive he’s being. Making sure to clean your body properly, it’s honestly not necessary but it makes your heart feel full. Knowing that he would take care of you with no complaints, or at least minimal complaints, it’s comforting to know. It’s also confronting.

You rinse yourself under the water, once all the soap suds are off your body, you lean into him. Leaning up you kiss his lips; his hands hold your hips as he kisses you back. He only indulges you temporarily, pulling away after a bit. He’s trying his best to restrain himself, but you can feel his semi hard cock resting against the skin of your stomach.

He grabs either side of your face and looks into your eyes, “Take it easy.”

You lightly scowl at him, unhappy with the idea but knowing he’s right, for now anyways. The sprain is fresh and with the prolonged time on your feet you’re really starting to feel it. He turns the water off and guides you out of the shower, covering you in a towel before wrapping one low around his hips.

The view of water droplets running down his abs, down his pelvis and below the towel has your mouth watering. The Gods are unkind because you have never wanted to give head to a man more than you do right now.

He pulls you closer and uses your towel to dry you off, “You got clothes?”

“Yeah, I can go get them–”

He doesn’t speak but his expression cuts you off. Walking away, he comes back with some pyjamas for you. He helps dress you and then guides you back to the bed, you flatten yourself against it and Bi-Han places pillows under your foot for elevation again.

His form wanders around the room and you would love nothing more than to watch him, but you feel way too comfortable to move right now and you don’t want to jostle your ankle. You’ve put yourself through enough pain for now.

The shower has made you warm and docile and even though you’ve spent most of the day in this bed, it’s never felt more comfortable than it does right now.

When Bi-Han is dressed, he crawls into bed beside you and lays flat on his back too.

“Why are you being so resistant to my help?” He asks, clearly fed up with you and your stubbornness. Which is rich considering you think he’d be about as difficult as you’re being, if not more so.

You answer him honestly though, “I’m not used to being cared for and I don’t want to burden anyone.”

“You are not a burden to me,” his tone is firm, serious, he wants you to understand at least this much. “I care for you, deeply. Let me.”

You can’t look at him right now, whatever expression he’s making would make you cry. Opening up to people is hard. At least it usually is, it’s scary how easy he makes it for you. How easy it is for you to give him your heart, there isn’t much you wouldn’t do for him and it’s frightening.

There are a million things you want to say, or a billion things you could say but you ultimately settle on, “Okay.”

He holds himself up on his forearm so he can look over you, his hand on the side of your face. He’s searching for something in your expression, but you don’t really know what it is. His own gaze is open and soft for you, and you think this is his way of being vulnerable.

You realise he’s been vulnerable with you every step of the way, not being quiet about how much he wants you, how much he likes and cares for you. You think to Bi-Han, that is one of the most scariest things he can admit to. For you, it’s being cared for and for Bi-Han, it’s caring for another. What a pair you two make.

“Bi-Han,” you want to say more, something profound but all you manage is, “Thank you.”

He smiles so softly at you, filled with so much affection, “You’re welcome.” He replies before dipping to take your lips in his, the kiss is caring, unhurried, kissing you only to kiss you, not to take your breath away.

The night you both share is quiet, mostly filled with soft kisses and warm words whispered to each other. The only intention is to be together, nothing more. It’s frightening but only because the longer you talk with him, the more it daunts on you, with how much you have gained, there is so much more you could lose.

⋆⁺₊❅.

It been a bit over a week and your ankle has sufficiently healed – to you it has anyways, Bi-Han says it needs longer before you can train. And you agree with him on that much, it’s not ready for training, it’s still too tender for that but you can walk around freely now and that was what was most important to you.

Bi-Han spent almost the whole week with you, he did have to leave a couple days ago due to Grandmaster duties but he was attentive and borderline doting for the whole week. It was foreign and challenging, to have someone ask if you were okay regularly or remind you to wrap your ankle.

He also made sure you did stretches to help with the healing, it was all very kind of him and you are thankful. But to you, it was frustrating, normally you just brute force through pain until it either goes away or kills you. Which you keep doing because, well, you aren’t dead yet.

For the whole week he spent with you, he didn’t try anything sexual… the whole week. It didn’t matter if you wanted it or not, he refused to do anything that would move your ankle too much. You told him he was being ridiculous but he didn’t want to risk making it worse, you also suspect that if you had hurt yourself, he would’ve endlessly blamed himself. You wonder what would happen if you were seriously injured, how he would cope with it, if he would ever touch you again.

It’s sweet that he cares but it’s also stressing you out because he’s been looking at you like you’ll break. Like you’re a piece of paper and the world is a shredder, with your injury, you think he’s forgotten you are a trained fighter and a damn good one. You’ve been letting him care for you like he asked, which has been new and uncomfortable at times, but it’s literally just a sprained ankle and he’s treating it like you got shot or something.

Anyways, you’re going to show him you’re fine. Currently, it is later in the evening and you are very impatiently waiting for him, he is due back any second. He hasn’t done much more than kiss you in the last week and you know his resolve is weak. Your plan is mostly self-indulgent, you’ll have an actual talk with him about how he’s been treating you like a piece of glass but for now, the course of action you’ve decided on is getting on your knees for him.

When he’s back and sees you, he makes a beeline towards you, “Waiting for me, this late?”

“Yes.”

He smiles at you, “I missed you.”

“Good.” You tell him, grabbing his hand and walking away with him.

“Slow down,” he protests, worried about your ankle, you ignore his concern and continue tugging him forward.

He stops suddenly and it causes you to stop too, showing just how little control you actually had over pulling him.

You groan at him, “Why’d you stop?”

“What are you planning?” He’s unmoving, wanting an answer for your rush.

Looking up to him, you gaze into his eyes, his expression is questioning. The perpetual crease between his brows present as he looks back at you. He looks good right now but he always looks good, it’s not fair. His unanswered question has a single brow raising at you, prompting you to speak.

“I want to suck you off,” you state simply.

His face lights up in shock and delight, suddenly you’re upside down. He’s thrown you over his shoulder and hastily walked off to his room with you. He whispers curses about how you’re trying to kill him on the way there, grumbling mostly to himself.

Back in his room, he very gently places you on the floor, “Are you sure,” he double checks with you, still worried about your ankle – which is fine.

Your response is an eye roll before walking up to him, reaching up and grabbing his face, you pull him down to you, his face right in front of yours. The action has him grabbing onto your hips.

“Unless you stop me, I’m dropping to my knees right now.” You whisper against his lips; you’ve been forced to be bold and straightforward.

He groans at you and takes your mouth in a kiss; you sigh against him. He’s kissing you fervently, in a way he hasn’t kissed you for a while. It makes you unbelievably happy. His tongue slides into your mouth and it makes you whimper. He’s holding you firmly to him, lips greedy and hands exploratory.

His hands grab at your ass before moving up your whole body, one of them lands on your neck, holding you. He moves your head to the side and his tongue continues to lick into your mouth. The kiss is overwhelming, especially since the last time you were kissed with so much ferocity was over a week ago, you’re needy and desperate for him.

The moans that slip from you can’t be stopped, not when he’s taking over all your senses. All you can see, hear, feel, smell, is him. You aren’t capable of pulling back from him, too involved in the feeling of his lips on yours. He’s the one who pulls away from you.

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper against him, and not just from the past few days but you’ve missed him while he was beside you. Missed his overwhelming presence, everything he does takes your breath away. He takes up so much space in your life but he made himself small in fear of hurting you and that devastated you.

“I missed you too,” he replies.

You look at him with an intensity you hope reaches him, “No. I’ve missed you.”

He looks struck by you, by your words. You don’t wait for his reply, dropping to your knees in front of him instead. Whatever needs to be said can be spoken about properly later. Your plan was this and you are not getting side tracked, not when he’s finally letting you do this for him.

“Sweet girl–” You look up to him, on your knees and waiting. The sight makes him groan, “You’re always playing dirty.”

You hum as you reach up to his pants, palming at his erection, it makes him growl out your name. He seems to be sensitive; you wonder how much he deprived himself. He shrugs off the outer layer of his shirt, giving you unobstructed access to his pants.

When you plant a kiss on the head of his cock over his pants it makes him twitch in response, you don’t tease too long because at the moment, teasing him is just teasing yourself. You pull his pants down enough to free his dick from them, he groans at the feeling.

Grabbing the base of him, you kiss the tip of his bare cock, obviously not completely done with teasing him. Your tongue licks along the whole underside of him and Bi-Han almost keels over at the unexpected feeling.

“Ffffuck,” he sighs out above you.

Opening your mouth on him, you suck his tip in, your tongue flicks at the slit of his head and he shudders in response. You hum around him and he grunts at the feeling.

His hand reaches out to your face, gently cradling you, his thumb strokes high on your cheek bone, “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

You start moving your head up and down his shaft, sucking him in, you’re practically drooling on his fat cock. He stretches your lips with the width of him and you can barely take half of him down. One of your hands compensates for what you can’t take, gripping the base of him and twisting lightly, while the other rests on his thigh, holding him for purchase.

“Doing such a good job, sweetie,” he praises you and it makes your cunt jump.

He’s groaning above you and the sounds he releases are making you needy, arousal spiking. You try to take more of him but it has you choking on him, tears spring to your eyes, your throat spasms around him and Bi-Han moans. Your thighs clench at the sound of him, a small moan of your own falls from you.

Tears are slipping from your eyes at the sheer size and weight of him on your tongue, spit drooling down his length and the corners of your mouth.

“Ffffuck, look at me, sweet girl –ngh– wanna see your pretty wet eyes,” his words are on the verge of slurring, lost in the feeling of your mouth suctioned around him.

You hum around him and look him in the eyes, he’s fucked at the sight. Devastated by how you look with his big cock in your mouth. The longer you suck up and down his dick, the closer he is to cumming. When you pull back your tongue licks at the tip of him and he whimpers, eyes fighting against the pleasure, wanting to watch you for as long as possible.

He temporarily loses the battle and his eyes slip shut as he grunts at the feeling of your warm mouth and tongue, you’re loving how his face is pulled into a pleased expression. His hips mindlessly pull back and forth lightly, you let him use your mouth. His hand rests on your head lightly for leverage.

Your cunt is throbbing with need, your thighs are clenching together for some kind of friction. As he carefully fucks into your mouth, you can’t take it any longer and one of your hands reach into your pants, rubbing into your clit. The stimulation makes you moan around him and Bi-Han’s eyes flick back open to look at you.

His gaze is low and lidded as he says, “Sucking me –hah– off getting you all worked up, sweetie?” He moans low in his throat, still moving his cock in and out of your mouth.

You nod against him as best as you can, your hand not stopping, shamelessly horny for him at this point. Your head is meeting his thrusts and he groans at the feeling, mumbling filthy praise to you. He’s getting close based on the way he’s twitching in your mouth, you take more of him down, swallowing around him, a large moan comes from him at the unexpected movement.

He pulls from your mouth completely all at once and it makes you whine, not understanding what you did wrong. Your own hand withdrawals from your panties, waiting for him to talk to you.

His eyes are closed and his eyebrows are drawn up in concentration, “Fuck, I almost came.”

“I know, I wanted you to,” you tell him, still confused.

“Sweet girl, I’ve not been inside your pretty little cunt in over a week.” His gaze is dark, “I’m cumming inside you.”

Based on the look on his face alone, he’s trying to kill you, “I wanted you to cum in my mouth…” you pout slightly.

He tuts at you, “Sweet talker.” His hands reach for you and pull you up, he undresses you. Almost tearing your clothes in his haste to see you naked. His hands grope at your breasts, tugging at your nipples, “Mm gonna fuck your tits one day.” His words are blunt.

“Okay,” you answer simply, because yeah, he will.

His smile is evil and pleased, “Never change, my sweet girl.” He leans down and kisses you, full and heady.

He picks you up effortlessly and carries you to the bed, still gentle with you as he drops you onto it. He doesn’t follow immediately, staying standing to undress himself completely. He’s always so pretty, and as you watch him undress you feel completely captivated by him.

“Bi-Han, you are beautiful,” you tell him.

He’s stunned by your choice of words; he enjoys your compliments even though he finds the ones you give him odd in phrasing. He recovers quickly, retorting with, “Mmm and I’m gonna look even more beautiful stuffing you full of my cock.”

Crawling onto the bed, he pushes you onto your back and spreads your legs. Always shameless in how he stares at you with greedy eyes. He rubs the head of cock through your folds, collecting your wetness and teasing you. As he kneels between your legs, he pushes your legs open as wide as they’ll go, bending them.

His hands hold under your knees, keeping you wide open for him. One of his hands leaves your knee to direct the tip of his dick to your pussy hole, slowly pushing into you, the stretch stinging the tiniest amount.

“Gods, always so tight, no matter how much I fuck you open,” he groans as he slips his cockhead inside you. His smile turns evil as he’s struck with an idea, “You’re gonna cum on every inch on me since you’ve been so needy.”

You shake your head at him, “It’ll be too much.”

He dismisses you, not even looking you in the eyes, all his attention on how his tip sits inside you, “You’ll be fine, want as much of your cum coating my cock as possible.” You whine at his words, cunt jumping and Bi-Han feels it, his smile growing at your reaction.

The hand that guided his cock head into you moves to your clit, rubbing circles into it, tight and controlled. The stimulation makes you clench down on the tip of his dick, whimpering at the feeling. He continues playing with your clit, you realise that he probably is going to keep his promise and you will be crying and shaking by the time he’s done with you.

Embarrassingly, with how worked up you are and how full just the tip of his dick fills you, you cum quickly. Your pussy flutters around him and he groans at the feeling.

“Poor girl, I’ve so been cruel and neglectful, got you fucken needy enough you came at the smallest touch,” he’s trying to take pity on you but he’s delighted by how quick you came. The joy in his eyes cancelling out any sympathy his tone may have held.

“You’re gonna kill –ngh– me,” you pant out at him.

He chuckles at you, “Never, I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweetie.”

The thumb on your clit picks back up as he slips another inch inside you, he repeats the process, playing with you until you cum on him. He adds another inch and continues, and with how the overstimulation gets worse after every orgasm, you cum faster each time.

At some point you’re able to cum just from him slapping your clit a few times, pussy jumping in shock and pleasure at each tap, eventually toppling you over the edge. What were moans, turn into wines and whimpers, tears fall from your eyes. Overstimulated to high hell and he’s not even completely inside you yet, almost, but not quite.

“You look so –mmph– cute when you cry, all fucked out and cock drunk, such a pretty girl,” he compliments you but you’re not convinced of your presence in the room anymore.

When you try to reply, it’s mostly a mumbled mess of words, mostly consisting of his name and when you look at him, his eyes are bright and beyond pleased with the state he’s reduced you to.

Because of how fucked you are, you don’t take any notice of how fucked Bi-Han is, you may be cock drunk but he’s pussy drunk. Having stopped temporarily because his orgasm is crawling up his spine, his control only able to hold on for so long before it snaps. He really wants to keep his promise and there’s only an inch of him left, it’d be a damn shame to give up so close to the finish line.

He takes a few breaths to stave off his orgasm before slipping the final inch inside you, your cunt throbs around him. A guttural groan is pulled from him, he pushes through and rubs your overstimulated clit again, his thumb slipping over your skin from how wet and messy he’s made your pussy.

You moan and whimper at the sensations, not able to do much but take what he gives you. Your cheeks are tear-stained and your vision is blurred, glazed over. Bi-Han is having a hard time, both your messy cunt and tear-stained face too much for him, both views that please him deeply and put him right on the edge.

His thumb speeds up and you cum very suddenly, a sharp whimper ripping from your lungs as your cunt creams all over him again, for the umpteenth time.

He moans at the feeling and the sight, his eyebrows pinched in pleasure, “Fuuuuuuck,” is all he manages. He slips his cock out of you until only the head remains, so he can look at the way your cum coats him. The sight of it making his dick jerk.

His eyes close, controlling his breathing for a moment. Your own breath is shuddering, you need a moment as well. Completely stupefied by how many orgasms he’s given you.

“Mmm I’m not done yet, sweet girl,” he warns.

You prattle out slurred words to him, “It’s –hah– so much –mmph– Grandmaster.”

“You can take it,” he hums at you before slamming back into you completely.

Being full again makes you borderline scream, last minute biting your lip to supress it. It doesn’t stop it but it turns into a loud strangled moan instead. Bi-Han laughs at your struggle, ecstatic at how he’s got you screaming on his dick.

He’s not slow about this part, to close to his own end and not actually wanting to kill you. He’s fucking into you quickly, still kneeling and pushing your legs back, using them as leverage. He keeps his fingers off your clit for now, which you are grateful for but each time he thrusts into you, his pelvis grinds into you and it has your pussy clenching at the stimulation.

Grunts and groans fall from his lips, they border on growls. Even with your poor vision you can see the wild look in his eyes. His control has snapped and he fucks into you like it’ll be the last thing he’ll ever do. Burying his cock so deep inside you it can be felt hitting your cervix. Lewd sounds of wet slapping fill the room, the squelch of your cunt obscene.

He’s getting closer to his end, that much you’re certain of, his cock twitching inside you. He grinds into you, his pelvis grinding into your clit. The abrupt stimulation shocking you and pushing you completely over the edge. Your cunt grips his cock hard, as you spasm around it, your release gushing around him.

He moans loudly as he cums, letting go, finally satisfied enough with how much he’s made you orgasm to allow himself the same pleasure. He grunts out your name along with various compliments, at least you think they’re compliments.

“Ffffuck, got the messiest cunt –mmph– so pretty when you cry, God– love how you look full of my –ngh– cum,” his words are filled with moans and are slurred as he babbles on about how perfect your pussy is.

He stays pressed to you for moment, letting you both ride out the high together. The amount he’s cum inside you is obscene, leaking out around him. He slips his cock out of you, sad to leave but always happy to see the sight of your cunt filled, obsessed with the way his spend dribbles out of you. You don’t even have the energy to fight off his hungry eyes, actively fighting passing out instead.

When he’s had an eyeful he pulls back, hopping off the bed and tugging on his pants before walking into the bathroom. When he comes back he sits you up and hands you water. Which you try to refuse.

He grumbles disapprovingly at you, “Drink it, I’ve just fucked you within an inch of your life.”

You feel boneless but you reach up and take the glass, you take a sip and pull away but he grunts at you in a reprimanding manner. So, you drink it all down while he watches. Once you’ve finished with it, he returns it to where he got it from, when he comes back, he sits beside your still sitting form.

“Are you okay?” He asks, genuinely concerned.

You’re blank for a moment before responding, “Mhm mm good,” you smile lazily at him.

It makes him chuckle, “Got you fucked dumb, sweetie.” His hand reaches up and rubs your cheeks, wiping away some of the tears there, “You really are pretty when you cry.”

“You’re pretty when you cum,” you retort.

He smiles at you, “Flatterer.” It’s quiet for a moment before he asks, “Hungry?”

You nod at him.

⋆⁺₊❅.

Bi-Han gave you a bit to recover before the pair of you wandered through the grounds to get to the kitchen attached to the main dining hall. You were still a little wobbly as you walked here but Bi-Han supported you, that and your curiosity was piqued enough to soldier through it.

When he’d asked if you were hungry, you half expected him to pull out an energy bar or something, so when he asked you to gather yourself before changing you were confused and very intrigued.

“What are we doing here?” You enquire.

He looks back to you, “I’m gonna make you something to eat.”

You’re a bit shocked at that, cooking isn’t something you considered him able to do. Though, it’d be equally surprising if he wasn’t capable of making anything at all.

You smile at him, “Can I help?”

“I’m sure you could,” his hand holds onto the side of your face, “But I’m not gonna let you.” He finishes, pecking you on the lips before turning around and looking through the cupboards of the kitchen. Pulling out everything he needs.

Pouting lightly, you complain, “Rude,” though you might not be the most help currently. Still a little spacey from the high of all your orgasms.

He chuckles at you but says nothing more, continuing to grab stuff. From what he’s pulled out, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be anything extravagant but he could boil you an egg and you’d be over the moon.

As you watch him light the stove, you wonder aloud, “Can I count this as a date?”

“No, I have something else planned for our date.” He replies, frowning, obviously having higher standards than this.

“I think I’m gonna count it,” you move closer to him and lean against the bench top.

He only grunts at you in acknowledgement, saying nothing further. Instead focusing on what he’s doing.

You wait patiently for him, watching him cook, he seems to be making some kind of noodle dish. Something simple, it smells good and it reminds you of being sick and making chicken noodle soup for yourself. Memories of cold winters and runny noses, being alone with only your plants to entertain you. Cooking and talking mindlessly to them, trying your best to find joy in the solitude.

“It smells good,” you hum to him.

He pats your head lightly, “It’s almost ready.”

It doesn’t take much longer; he dishes it up not long after his last statement. You both stay in the kitchen; you sit up on the bench and Bi-Han stands in front of you. Both holding your bowls, they’re warm and it feels nice to hold, warming your cold hands.

It’s good, not the same as what you used to make but you think you like this more. It warms your body better than yours ever did and you find yourself wishing for Bi-Han to have been present in your past.

You tell him as much, “It’s really good, thank you, Bi-Han.”

“I used to make this for my mother, when she was sick,” he reveals.

He’s shared something with you again, something private, something you didn’t ask for and it makes you happy, “I bet she loved it.”

“She did.” He doesn’t look sad right now, he looks content.

You decide to share a piece of yourself with him in return, “I used to make something like this for myself, when I was sick but it never tasted this good.” It’s not as special of a memory, but it’s a memory, nonetheless.

He frowns, “No one made it for you?”

“I didn’t have anyone,” you answer, continuing to eat rather than look him in the eyes.

He places a hand on your thigh, “You have me now.”

“And you have me,” you smile at him, placing your hand over his.

Dinner is good and you both don’t talk much, when you do speak it’s to sing him praise over the food. Enjoying it a lot, you think he blushes lightly at your unending compliments. He brushes you off, saying it’s a simple dish and you’re being silly but you only laugh and insist. You insist because it is that good to you, it makes you warm and you feel content after eating it.

When you’ve both finished he washes up all the dishes he used, cleaning up after himself, you help him. He tries to protest but you ignore him and continue helping, you can do this much. He cooked after all.

Once you both finished tidying up, you say to him, “Thank you, it was very nice.”

“You are more than welcome,” He pecks your cheek.

The pair of you are standing in the kitchen still, and in this empty moment you decide to bring up what should have been spoken about a week ago. “Bi-Han, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the last week.”

His eyes flick to yours, not saying anything but showing you have his attention.

You sigh, “I feel like you had been treating me like I’ll break, like I’m frail, but I am strong and capable. I messed up a little during training and sprained myself, it happens. It didn’t mean I was dying.”

“I didn’t think you were dying,” he objects.

“You were acting like I might.”

He groans, hand pinching the bridge of his nose, “I was worried about you.”

“And I understand that, but you barely touched me, and I don’t mean just sex. You take up so much space in my mind, in my heart, and you withdrew from me even though you were right beside me.” You pause, trying to find the right words, “You… you looked at me with so much fear… afraid of hurting me but that hurt more than any injury.”

He considers you for a moment, unsure of what to say, “I didn’t mean to but you looked so… delicate, it was a lot… seeing you like that… and it was an accident but what about the future?”

You counter, “And you? You put yourself in harm’s way more frequently but I trust you to take care of yourself,” you ask him, “What if I were to fall apart every time you went away?”

“You aren’t even done with your training yet, it’s not the same.” He argues.

“Maybe not but you didn’t know me before all this, I’ve been through worse, I’ve been through more and I am still here. I am not delicate and I will not break if you touch me wrong.” Your voice is firm, trying to convey to him that you are more than one injury, you are so much more.

“I am sorry,” He’s being genuine, he feels bad for how he’s made you feel because he knows you are capable, but anxieties are not rational. “But if something worse were to happen to you–”

“–The future is uncertain and nothing is promised. My worries are the same as yours. I worry about how I’ve gained so much and it is scary to think about losing it but I am not going to live less because of it.” You cradle the side of his face gently, “Bi-Han, if anything, you give me a reason to live more.”

His eyes are soft as he looks into yours, filled with so many emotions. He pulls you into a hug, it’s firm, he’s holding onto you tightly as he mumbles into the top of your head, “I am frightened…”

“Of what?” You pull back to look at him.

He lets you but leans down and kisses you, it’s tender in nature and when he pulls back the slightest bit, he whispers against your lips, “Of how quickly I am falling for you.”

⋆⁺₊❅. part 6

A/N: Thank you for reading !!! Illegal cliffhanger anyone???? Please forgive me <33 I hope you all enjoyed !! I am a little concerned as to how this will be received, as attention and love for this series grows I get more anxious about writing the next part. I want you all to keep enjoying it so I hope I have delivered :))) PSA !!! Don’t be silly like reader, take your sprains seriously and care for yourself appropriately <333 I have a unique insight into the sprained ankle, due to my poor coordination and bad luck, I sprained my ankle not once, not twice but three times, in the same spot on the same ankle last year and let me tell you. It’s a bitch to heal. Anywhos, as per usual, if you have any thoughts, feelings, questions, concerns or requests do not hesitate to reach out !!! I love you all, have a good morning/day/evening <333

#mk1 2023 #fanfic #mk1 smut #smut #subzero #bi han x reader #bi han x you #subzero x reader smut #subzero x reader #bi han smut #bi han x reader smut #subzero smut #subzero x you

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