#and I can’t tell if he’s trying to catch my eye or not but he made no fucking effort to talk to me despite being sat Right There this time

[suguann]

Ex-husband!Gojo who doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap. Several sideways glances cast your way at how cozy you both must look as you watch your four-year-old daughter run in the wrong direction across the field because she got distracted by a butterfly.

He doesn’t hear what they talk about—aren’t they divorced? I’ve never seen anyone divorced act like that—or (worse) when they try to be subtle about their probing into Satoru’s dating life while you stand there with a stilted smile plastered onto your face. 

(More than likely, he’s listened to every word and doesn’t give it the same amount of thought or care as you do.)

“Gojo,” you hiss, trying to move off his lap to no avail. “I have my own chair.”

“Can you still call me that if it’s your name too?”

A huff. “Go bother somebody else—”

“Shh,” he tells you, tugging you further against his chest. “You’re missing the game. Mio’s finally found her way back onto the field again.”

“But everyone’s staring at us.” You catch the eye of a mother tearing into a pack of fruit snacks.

“So? Let them stare.”

Everyone starts cheering, and you both watch Mio chase the ball down the field, her little body ducking between the taller kids. 

“That’s my girl!” Gojo shouts over the other parents.    

And then Mio kicks the ball into— 

The wrong goal.

“Maybe we should have let her join t-ball,” you whisper, though you both clap as your daughter starts doing not-quite cartwheels in the middle of the field.

Ex-husband!Gojo who still does work around the house every Friday, and to your dismay, shirtless now that the weather is warmer.

The plate in your hands has a few scuffs, half of a cartoon character’s face scrubbed off to oblivion that Mio will have something to say about later. Doing everything to stop from staring out into the yard where he’s mowing the lawn because the window is right there, above the sink, to tempt you.

It’s difficult when his chest glistens with sweat from the early-summer heat and how those stupid gray cotton shorts (that you know he picked out with the sole purpose of torturing you) sit dangerously low on his hips— 

He looks towards the kitchen window, a crooked smile stretching across his lips. The blood rushing to your brain, that must be what makes you give a sudsy wave and cause heat to creep into your middle.

Ex-husband!Gojo who strolls into your room while you’re putting away laundry one afternoon, and unsurprisingly shirtless as he crowds you against the dresser. Front to back. His mouth at your ear.

That steady resolve you pride yourself in crumbles at your feet, and you swallow the tiny, helpless sound working its way up your throat. A slippery thing that slips out. “Satoru…”

“You know, these little shorts were always my favorite,” he tells you, his fingers playing with the elastic waistband.

“Were they?”

“Don’t you remember? Couldn’t get them out of the way fast enough.”

Your mouth is dry, something playing in a loop in the back of your brain. Early morning, breakfast cooling on the stove, crumbs stuck to your cheek, these shorts dangling off the leg propped up on the counter—

“Where’s Mio?”

A kiss to your nape, a knowing smile. “Taking a nap.”

Ex-husband!Gojo who works your shorts and underwear off your legs before pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

“Satoru, we—we can’t keep doing this—”

Your words trail off into a moan when he slaps your clit with the leaky tip of his cock, and wet sounds echo in the room.

“Yeah? Go on, baby,” he tells you, slowly splitting you open, stuffing you full, two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place like it should be (how it’s always been). “Tell me some more why we can’t keep doing this.” 

You can’t, not with how he’s filling you up in the way only he knows how. Not when he hooks two thick fingers into your mouth because you’re getting too loud, pinning you against the bed with your cheek buried into your pillow, every sound choking into nothing.

You wriggle underneath him, fingers clawing at the comforter and your back arching.

“Christ, look at you,” he growls, leaning over you, teeth bared. “Fucking look at you. You needed this, didn’t you?”

Ex-husband!Gojo who presses what leaks out back inside you with his thumb after he pulls out, wet and sticky circles between your legs until you fall apart again with a soft cry. His thumb is there again, at your entrance, pushing and stopping like a plug, muttering something under his breath that sounds like, “Can’t waste it.” 

And quieter, “Maybe it’ll take.”

(Who knows?

Maybe it will. Worse things have happened.)

Ex-husband!Gojo who stays for dinner for the fourth time that week, and none of the reasons have been because Mio asked if he could. It’s more about the fact that you’ve enjoyed how whole your family feels again, that you can pretend for a moment this is what you do every night.

(How it was probably always going to come back to this.) 

That your wedding ring doesn’t sit in the back of your sock drawer, and his isn’t tucked away in his wallet. That you don’t feel guilty when you think about saying I love you or wishing he’d stay longer—

“Daddy, you gonna lose,” Mio tells Satoru as Mario Kart appears on the screen.

“We’ll see,” he laughs, tugging on one of her pigtails until she’s giggling and swatting his hand away.

You lean back against the couch, watching them with a small smile you share with Satoru over your daughter’s head.

#gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk fic #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #fem!reader #.things i write

[headkiss]

hellooo for the summer asks I was wondering about our boy Eddie and going to the beach with him and feeling insecure about our body, but ofc he’s a sweetie so he makes us feel better 🥹 just some hurt/comfort my love 🫶

thank u so so much for ur request baby!!! ily i hope this is okay <3 | 0.8k of fluff, tw for problems with body image

The sun beams harshly on your shoulders from your spot on the sand, a towel serving as the only cushion beneath you, eyes squinted behind your sunglasses.

In a rare instance, the group’s schedules have all lined up and given you the same day off, and immediately, that meant packing up Eddie’s van full to the brim with coolers and towels and more people than seats and driving to the beach.

The drive had been a blast, Steve and Eddie arguing steadily over what music to play, Robin egging them on even though she’d dance along to anything. Eddie’s hand had been a comforting weight on your thigh the entire ride.

Now, hours of sun and swims later, hair messy from the wind and water, cooler much emptier than it had been earlier, you’re watching the gang play volleyball (you say this loosely, because there’s no net nor is there an established court).

It’s fun, to be a part of a group of friends this way, to watch such an uncoordinated game where everyone is smiling and having fun despite there being competition involved.

You’re having fun, too, laughing every time Eddie trips or winks at you and says “this one’s for you” before hitting the ball in a random direction. Then, there’s the way Steve calls “mine!” every time the ball comes anywhere near his side of the ‘court,’ even when Robin was even closer, prompting them to start bickering.

So really, it should be all light and easy. A relaxing day at the beach with your favorite people. And it is, until it isn’t.

One second, you’d been smiling at the game, shifting your sunglasses off of your eyes and using them as some sort of headband instead. The next, your eyes were wandering around the beach and noticing everyone else.

Noticing the way the other people around looked. Girls brilliantly tanned in their triangle bikinis, denim shorts fitting them perfectly. Or the guys in their swim trunks and how carefree they look.

You can’t help but see everything they are that you aren’t. Or, that you don’t believe you are.

Things like this creep up on you in funny ways. Like a chill that just passes through, sudden and unavoidable. A simple thought snowballing into a hundred small ones shaped like arrows aiming towards yourself.

You shift to cross your arms over the soft of your exposed stomach, suddenly wishing you’d brought more than a tank top to cover up with.

Eddie snaps you out of your thoughts with a call of “you sure you don’t wanna join, sweetheart?”

You muster a halfhearted smile as you shake your head. “I’m okay.”

The two words are enough to tell Eddie that you aren’t exactly okay at the moment. Your smile not reaching your eyes the way it should, that line between your eyebrows worried the way it shouldn’t.

When you aren’t looking, he signals Argyle over to take his spot in the game and jogs over to you, sitting down next to you and nudging your shoulder with his. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Eds. You didn’t have to stop playing,” you say, though you can't deny that the warmth of his arm brushing yours feels nice.

“Hey, look at me,” he urges you gently, his knuckles catching your chin to nudge your face up to his. “It’s just me. You can say it.”

“It’s silly,” you shrug. Eddie pins you with a look that says ‘try me,’ and because he’s the sweet boyfriend he is and because you trust him and love him, you do. “I just- I looked around and just noticed all these people and the way they look and I’m not-”

“Sweetheart,” he stops you, his voice painfully soft. His brown eyes even more so, shining in the late afternoon sun. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m not just sayin’ that. I mean, you’ve seen the boners you give me, so…”

“Eddie,” you scrunch your nose and slap his chest lightly, though you’re fighting back a smile.

“I’m serious. Look at me compared to these people, babe. I look different, too. I’m not ripped or anything, and I’m pale as fuck. Like, ghost-level.”

You look at him, the frizzy curls framing his face and the curve of his cupid’s bow, to the tattoos dotting his skin and how his abs are just barely visible beneath the soft of his tummy. The way his cheeks and chest are a little pink from the sun. He’s perfect to you. For you.

“I think you’re pretty, Eds.”

“Well I think you’re fucking pretty, too, sweetheart. That’s my point,” his arm slings itself around your shoulders, tugging you into his side, uncaring of the heat or whether or not you’re sweaty. “Different doesn’t mean bad. It just means different. And I love you and your different, okay?”

You like the way he says it, like it’s a fact, like he’s never once thought otherwise. You like the way he trails his fingertips up and down your arm, too, like it’s an instinct.

And, well, when he dips down to kiss you all sweet and slow and sure, you think it’s the prettiest you’ve ever felt.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson request #eddie munson requests #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson blurb #eddie blurb #eddie blurbs #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson hurt/comfort #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things eddie

[sanjisblackasswife]

Gojo Hearing “I Love You” for the First Time

I gen. have no clue if anywhere in the series anybody has said they loved gojo. Whether platonic or not. Its interesting and I was just thinking.

CW: Mentions of Gojo’s Past(some canon some not…so spoilers ig if you haven’t read the inventory arc), Established Relationship, Mentioned Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Some Angst(?), Soft Gojo, Reader speaks Spanish because I’m projecting 😋, Kisses

Blk!Fem Reader in Mind

“AND THAT’S WHY I DO NOT LIKE PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES!..IT WAS VOMIT EVERYWHERE!”

“Can’t believe you managed to eat 6 boxes of cookies in one sitting.”

“Hey! Don’t judge it was a marathon of Digimon playing all day…good times. Not as good as the time—“

And there he goes again, your big over 6’6” boyfriend laying on his back on the couch having another yap fest after a long trip. It started off with a quiet evening of you both eating and watching a childhood movie to then actually sharing stories of your past.

You really couldn’t be more enamored by how excited Satoru gets when he speaks to you. His smile is wide from ear to ear and his dimples grow deeper. He’s also so expressive with his hand gestures you really don’t know where to look as you lay comfortable on his big broad chest.

Usually when he begins to speak about his life before you, you try to absorb and savor every moment. Since your friendship in high school Gojo wasn’t much of a talker (ironically) about his life, but as you both grown closer since his big mission with Geto to watch over Riko he managed to get a bit more comfortable with telling you more about himself.

It’s been 11 years since then and after some therapy sessions with you, Geto, and Gojo three of you managed to learn how to express yourselves in a healthier way with each other.

You watch now, almost 1 year into your official relationship with him and noticed he doesn’t talk much about his parents. Nor an adult in his life that was like a parent to him at the very least. Even when in High School you never met his family. You knew of his clan and that was all.

You always wondered where did he get his wild energy from? His dad? Where did he become so affectionate through touch? His mom? It was all a mystery you wanted to understand.

You’ve even asked Geto, his closest best friend what does he know about his mom and dad, but he always ends with “It’s better you wait until he tells you himself.”

You didn’t question it more, you respected the decision so thats exactly why you’re here. Watching and listening attentively to what your boyfriend has to say. It makes you happy seeing how much he has grown more comfortable towards you towards the years.

“And when I was 8 I remember my folks always gave me free range to use my technique whenever to practice, but boy they regretted after an hour because I—-baby.”

Without noticing your eyes blinked back at him as if you began to come back to reality again, Gojo seen the relaxed look you given him as he spoke, how your eyes were on his, but he just knew you—

“‘ not even listeninggguhhhh.”

Putting your thumbs on his pouty bottom lip, they’re so soft you smile at him, it wasn’t really something you’d expect to say to him, but his pretty big smile, his deepened dimples, everything about him caught you in a moment of venerability you just decided to softly speak at him;

“I love you.”

…just like that it was a pause.

It just slipped off the tongue. You meant it, but finally saying it out loud was a bit of a shock to not just you, but more Satoru. He had an unreadable look on his face, almost as if he didn’t catch what you said, but he definitely did. He couldn’t miss the way his body tensed up hearing those three words.

“What?”

Gojo didn’t say anything, almost as if it was a staring contest you rise from his chest to straddle him, “Are you okay?”

You jumped feeling the pads of his thumb dig into the fattiness of your hips, almost as if he were trying to massage you….very painfully. He got up though, placing you down on the couch and walking to the nearest bathroom without saying a word or looking at you. You could’ve sworn he wiped his face momentarily.

“Go—?”

He didn’t mean to, it was almost a reflex. Your words though, kept replaying in his head . He felt a bit silly being so dramatic , ironically but he couldn’t properly process what you said.

“Satoru?” You knock on the door breaking him away from his thoughts, “You okay, papa? I—oh.”

He opened the door, putting back on his eye mask and giving you one of the fakest smiles you ever seen him do.

“What are you doing, you okay?”

“yeah yeah I’m fineeeee. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“W-wait!” You playfully scoff at his eagerness as he pulls you to the front door, “I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable….I know it was sudden and random, but I meant it.”

Gojo turns and exhales, clearing his throat he begins to scratch the back of his head, you can tell he is scrambling for words so you continue; “I do love you Satoru. A lot. I think I always have since we were younger, but I don’t know…today made me realize I should verbalize it.”

He wants to speak, but for one of the first times you left him wanting to just listen to you. Honestly you took advantage of it because who knows when you’ll be able to get him this quiet.

“I love your smile, I love your laugh, I love the way you explain things, I love the way you are, I love the way you care, I love how you can get on my nerves.” You ends the last part with a giggle making him finally chuckle with you, and he brings you closer to his chest. “I love you, Satoru. You are an amazing person and I am very blessed to have you as not only a friend but a partner.”

It was all too much, he felt overwhelmed he had to lift his mask to wipe the tears welling on the side of his eyes, he chuckles again, the free hand on your waist tightening, “Well damn if I didn’t know better I’d think you have a crush on me.”

You laugh, “Maybeeee…..Now. “ You smooch his cheek before grabbing your phone, “Let’s go get some food—-“

You tried walking past him towards the door but he grabs you from behind to hug you close, you can hear his shallow breaths in your ear. You’re used to his tight squeezes from behind but this one was firm. Almost as if he let you go you’ll fly away.

“Say it again.”

You smirk, his voice quivering but trying to be masked by a fake pouting tone, “I love you, Satoru.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again, but in Spanish.”

“Oh brother.”

“C’mon you sound hot when speaking Spanish.”

“Te amaré para siempre, Satoru…”

If words could explain how he felt right now with you, the closeted would be a weight being lifted off his shoulders. For a moment he no longer was Gojo the strongest sorcerer, he was Satoru.

Just Satoru.

Something he wanted to be for a long time, and now you are helping him take the first step into that.

You inhale his scent; mint, expensive cologne and his natural musky smell you love so much and rub his head as he is still buried in your neck. You turn to face him and grab his cheeks, almost hesitantly to cup them because you weren’t sure if he’d left you see him cry. Though you felt your shoulder dampen.

However he let you, his big blue eyes surrounded by a tint of pink, he tried laughing it off and he actually broke eyes contact with you, “I …um…heh..fuck—“

You knew what he was trying to say but you don’t force him, instead you place your lips on his, you felt him exhale, his body relaxing in your touch, “I know, Satoru. I know.”

Gojo couldn’t properly register why he was so overwhelmed with whatever he is feeling right now but he wouldn’t trade this feeling in the world. He honestly wanted to replay the moment you said you loved him on repeat all day.

Later that day you both go out and have your own last minute date for the evening, he wanted so badly to tell you he loves you back by trying to incorporate more of the word “love “ in his vocabulary, by saying things like “I know you LOVE this.” Or “Wouldnt you LOVE for me to take you here.” but it was hard and he sounded silly.

Satoru wanted so badly to tell you he doesn’t just love you, but he has fallen IN love with you.

Gojo finally found just one more person that gave him something he didn’t realize he needed;

To feel human.

#TimikosGojo #black reader #gojo #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk headcanons #jujutsu gojo #gojo x black reader #gojo x black y/n #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo saturo #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x black y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff

[cyber333angel]

getting spanked by rafe because he saw you talking to a pogue..

you have been rafe camerons girlfriend for a long time, everyone knew you were his. there were signs to tell that you belonged to him all over your body. from the gold anklet that dangled on your foot, to the “r.c” tattoo that is branded under your boob, flexing when you wore a bathing suit . except not everyone chose to acknowledge how much you meant to rafe.

you and your boyfriend were currently at a party, it was a typical kook house and owned by one of rafes friends, kelce. sitting on the couch for about 30 minutes you watched as your boyfriend sold coke to a broad amount of people, you knew he sold and you honestly didn’t mind. but it did get very tiresome to watch. “rafey m’bored. we’ve been sitting here like allll day! it’s a party, i wanna actually do something!” your boyfriend ignored you, persuading a customers into buying some coke. “rafey!” you grip his arm and looks back at you “kid, can’t you see im working? go play with your girlfriends or something till im done.” you pout at him and mumble “y’re so annoying.” him not paying attention to you, you leave and go find someone who is actually willing to talk to you. you find a friend of yours and drink a couple of shots in the kitchen but she tells you that she needs to go the bathroom, you nod and stay put. soon after you see an old friend.

“oh m gee! hey jayj!” you have known jj maybank since you childhood. both growing up as “pogues” but since your parents had a good business they grew into more money, naturally making you two grow apart. “hey princess. how’s kook life been treating’ya.” you roll your eyes and talk to him for while. back at the table rafe hears from a friend that he caught his girl flirting with a pogue. instantly aggravated from the rumor, he makes his way to the kitchen, finding you with all smiles talking to some guy. furious, he steps between you and jj, “heard you were-uh flirting with my girl, is that-that true?” he looks at him picking a fight, you attempt to explain the misinterpreted scene to him “rafe-“ he pushes your arm away. “nah let the fucking pogue answer, baby.” his patience was gradually thinning out.

“calm down dude , theres literally zero reason to get heated.” jj says “no one was macking on your girl, alright trust-“ he was cut off by rafes fist connecting to his face, making him stumble to the ground. rafe grabs your hand and pulls you out of the kitchen “rafe what the hell! why would you do that, we were just talking!” ignoring you he makes his way to his car and opens the passenger side. you pout, “m’not getting in with you if your angry rafey.”

“sweetheart get in the fucking car, i promise you it will only be worse if you keep testing me, go sit in the car.” whimpering at the unsympathetic tone you sit down, you decide it’s best to stay quiet the whole ride. he pulls into the driveway of tannyhill and you try a last attempt to explain yourself. “rafey please listen t’me! I really was just catching up with him! I hadn’t seen him-“ rafe has his head down, rubbing his eyes. you quiet down when he puts his hands on your thigh, rubbing it up and down gently. he says calmly “go up stairs to our room and take all that shit off. when I get up there I want to see you with your ass in the air and your mouth fuckin shut, alright?” you nod keeping your head down, knowing there’s nothing you can do now. up in your shared room, you strip yourself of your clothes and climb onto your bed, feeling nervous of the punishment coming to you. hearing rafe come up the stairs you quickly get into position with an arched back. you also hear a faint jangle as he steps closer, in front of the bed he takes both of your hands and handcuffs them. you knew where this was going but it was inevitable to run from. rafe appears behind you “you know what you did to deserve this right? know how bad you disrespected me in front of people, you-you understand that right?” you shake your head frantically onto the soft pillow “yes daddy I know, said m’ sorry already!”

“I didnt ask all that, what your gonna do is count each time you get a spank alright? you can do that hm baby?” you nod again “yes daddy..” he pulls you by your waist to the edge of the bed, taking a seat and pulling you onto his lap, your legs and arms dangle off his thighs. you close your eyes and the first spank lands, a loud “pap!” echoing in the room. it stings, you squirm around in his lap “ouch!” you cry, but do as your instructed “o-one!”

“stay fuckin still.” the second one is even harder then the first. rafe had already done five brutal slaps on your right ass cheek. “your taking it like such a good girl..good job baby.” your right cheek was already feeling numb leaving your left rear end a little alleviated. you know you’ll be bruised and hurting tomorrow. rafe sees some of your slick oozing from your cunt, he takes two fingers and plunges them into your sticky hole. you flinch and mewl, he chuckles. “you like that shit? you like when daddy’s upset?” the slaps did hurt but you couldn’t admit it did turn you on..well you didn’t really need to admit it seeing how the evidence was shown by how soaked your pussy was. “don’t worry princess im halfway done..” he spanks you once more, wincing, this time you couldn’t count. needing a minute from the intense sting. your boyfriend leans in close to your ear, “c’mon what number was that sweetheart?”

“s-six daddyy please m’sorry!” he mocks you “aw four more baby s’okay, you can do it.” finishing the intense ill-treatment on your ass, rafe helps you up from his lap. now sitting on him with a bruised behind and tears running down your face. “what’d we learn today sweet girl?”

“not to talk’to other g-guys and respect you.” he nods “mhm that’s right. I didn’t want to hurt you alright baby? just need you to learn to respect me and know who you belong to.” you nuzzle into his neck “s’alright rafey, i know.. can you make me feel good now daddy, please! m’so sticky!” he smirks at you “yeah of course..you did so good for me and I know how much this needy pussy needs to cum.”

#rafe x reader <3 #sorry jj 😓 #obx smut #rafe cameron #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe outer banks #rafe x black reader #rafe imagine #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #smut #he’s so mean in this but I like it

[if-loves]

不老梦 (unaging dream)

// Yandere Dan Heng

sum: “How many meetings receive their worthy ends?”

wc: 3380

warnings: idk OOC dan heng ig 😢 and fem! reader

a/n: this was a shower idea ngl and also i yapped too much someone stop me

also inspired by the song 不老梦 (and some influence of 锦鲤抄 (no one ask me how many times i’ve played this song)) by 银临! i highly suggest giving both a listen (≧∇≦)

likes and reblogs appreciated :)

Dan Feng adored you.

Dan Heng knows that much. He knows that Dan Feng’s first and last thoughts were about you, pondering your whereabouts, your health, and a longing to see you once more. He knows that Dan Feng would, without fail, set aside time solely for you. No matter how busy his schedule was, he always had time for you. If Dan Feng knew love, it was because he knew you.

Dan Heng doesn’t understand why.

He knows that you’re a long-life species like Jing Yuan, that you’re someone who has accompanied every reincarnation of his ever since you had met them for the first time. He vaguely remembers that the rest of them had not felt anything more than platonic affection for you, but Dan Feng, the singular oddity, harbored far more romantic affections. Dan Heng, on the other hand, feels nothing.

Or so he thinks, until he is forced to revisit the Xianzhou Luofu.

It’s at Scalegorge Waterscape that he sees and meets you for the first time. You accompany Jing Yuan as he arrives, and your eyes immediately lock on to him. He sees them widen, and your lips whisper the name of his predecessor. Although almost silent, he hears your voice, and something in him tells him that it’s the most beautiful sound in the universe.

(He makes no move to deny.)

Your meeting is brief, no more than a sentence exchanged. You dip your head in respect, and nothing more than a simple greeting is said. He merely nods in acknowledgment, and yet while he has never learned it, he yearns to call your name.

You dutifully follow Jing Yuan as the group goes deeper into Scalegorge Waterscape, and Dan Heng can’t help but glance at you. He wonders if you know his name, and not that of his predecessors; he is not, and never will be, Dan Feng.

He thinks it’s odd that you don’t try to speak to him. From Dan Feng’s memories, he sees that you were both very close, perhaps even lovers at some point. Your wide smiles and sweet laughter are all etched into his brain, and he desires nothing more than to hear and see them for himself. He hopes you’ll give him the pleasure of smiling once more.

During the battle with Phantylia, he feels fear in his heart. He is concerned for the Express, concerned for Jing Yuan, and concerned for you. Was there really a need for you to be there, with everyone at the frontlines? Surely their group was enough already? Why didn’t Jing Yuan leave you behind or make you go back with Yanqing?

Plagued by his worries, he can’t help but keep his eyes on you as much as the battle allows. You stood at the very back, likely providing support and aid for your comrades in the front. Seeing you like this sparks another remembrance, of the days you’d delicately put ointment on Dan Feng’s bruises or gently tend to his wounds, all while chastising him about being more careful with himself.

It’s after the battle with Phantylia that he manages to find the courage to speak to you. He feels like a child with the way shyness has overtaken him, and he catches sight of Jing Yuan, although injured, seemingly enjoying his fluster.

“It’s… it’s been a long time.” He cringes at his first words.

“So it has, Imbibitor Lunae.” Your voice, a symphony of the galaxy’s most captivating sounds, enchants him further, and although not usually one to blush, he feels heat rising to his cheeks.

“Dan Heng. My name is Dan Heng.” He can’t help but correct. He has been relinquished of that name, of the sins that it bears. He is not Imbibitor Lunae, he is merely the Astral Express’ Dan Heng. “I… am no longer Imbibitor Lunae.”

“…Dan Heng, then.” Is it foolish to be happy at how one says your name? “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I…” Dan Heng doesn’t quite know what to say. He wants to speak to you, to hear you for the rest of time, but he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know how to speak to you without the possibility of widening the rift already between you two, undoubtedly the fault of a certain Vidyadhara High Elder.

“If there is nothing more to say, then I shall be on my way. I wish you and your crewmates safe travels.” You say simply and easily, like you don’t hold his heart. You say it like he’s a stranger, and not even your eyes are willing to show a hint of familiarity. What heinous crime did Dan Feng do to you that even to this day, you’re unwilling to forgive?

“I’d like to know what happened between you and… my predecessor.” The word leaves a sour taste in his mouth, like he’s saying the name of the competitor for your love. Your eyes widen in shock, and you look at him as if he had just asked to return to the Luofu permanently. He is acutely aware of the absurdity of the situation, that he looks exactly the same as the sinner that undoubtedly did something to you, that this same face is acting as if he hadn’t done anything to you. The real irony was in asking for the list of crimes.

“…There’s nothing more to be said, other than that he betrayed Xianzhou.” You don’t offer him the kindness of an explanation, and he thinks the way you can’t bear to even meet his eyes says all he needs to know about your feelings. Dan Feng had hurt you so greatly, that years later your heart is still hurting.

Dan Heng desires nothing more than to understand you the same way all his predecessors did, for an intimate connection the rest of them had, but he knows that for as long as he resembles him, you’ll never offer him that opportunity. And so, he makes a request.

He makes a request to meet with Jing Yuan privately. Said man is now your boss, and if you had told anyone about your connection to the traitor, it would be Jing Yuan, the only one who would welcome you with no judgment, only understanding.

“It was quite the surprise to learn of your request, Dan Heng.” The white haired man sits on his seat, a calm expression on his face. The Seat of Divine Foresight is devoid of people, the space cleared for this meeting. The General seems to have recognised some urgency in the request, or perhaps it is because he is a reincarnation of his old friend. You are also nowhere to be found.

“Thank you for accepting my request, Jing Yuan.” Dan Heng is stiff in his reply.

“There’s no need to be formal, you did help save the Luofu after all. Consider it part of a repayment for your predecessor’s crimes.” A bird comfortably nestles itself into the nest of his hair, and he makes no move to rid it. “Your request mentioned something about (Y/n). I imagine that it has something to do with Dan Feng’s past with her?”

“Yes. I tried to ask her, but she refused to give me anything more than the vague answer of his betrayal.” The black haired man’s hands clenches on his knee, looking straight at Jing Yuan as if his life depended on the answer. “Please, Jing Yuan, I need to know.”

I need to know how I can fix his mistakes.

“I must apologize, for I can’t exactly help much either. As far as I know, she has mostly kept to herself. Back when everything had yet to go awry, while the five of us were close, only Dan Feng was close to her.” Jing Yuan replied, mindlessly staring at a stack of paper on his desk. “I only came to really know her after what he did, when she was seeking a change of jobs and came across a position as my assistant. From what little I can recall of the past, I can only confidently tell you that she, at the very least, held strong affections for him, even when he broke his promises or left her alone.”

Dan Feng… broke his promises to you? Dan Feng… left you alone?

“This seems like quite the news for you.” Jing Yuan chuckles at the dumbfounded expression on his face. “Perhaps I can help with sorting through some memories?”

“Everything I can remember from him is nothing more than sweet memories and strong yearnings to see her again. It… I cannot remember anything of that sort.” Dan Heng is frankly horrified and beyond furious. He just couldn’t wrap the idea that Dan Feng didn’t prioritize you the same way his memories and dreams had shown him, that he would willingly break promises to his supposed lover so often that you gave up.

“Oh? That’s interesting. Is it possible that during the reincarnation process, all of his negative memories of hurting her had somehow disappeared, only leaving behind the ones he cherished most?”

“That would seem to be the case.” Dan Heng has a new determination. He knows what he must do. Standing from the seat, he bows politely at Jing Yuan. “I know what I must do. Thank you for the valuable information, Jing Yuan.”

“No thanks needed.” The General waves him off, seeing the body of his old friend disappear behind the doors. With a bitter smile, he silently mourns bygone days, but it doesn’t soothe the ache in his old heart.

~~~

You’re a little afraid to go to work now.

With the knowledge that your ex-lover’s reincarnation who happens to look exactly like him is still roaming about in the Luofu, you kind of don’t want to step out of your house for fear of running into him. You had desperately hoped that, by some miracle, he couldn’t recognise you, or even better, completely forgotten all about you. Alas, the will of the Aeons will always be like a child’s, fickle and ever-changing, never leaving a second thought for their toys.

The weekend has you hiding in your house, praying to Lan that the Express has departed, allowing you to be free from the reminder of the dream you once cherished with the one you loved. The dream that was once so beautiful, so precious, was now tainted with the stains of yesteryear, never again to be dreamed of by any of its dreamers.

You’re settled on the couch, reading a collection of poetry when there is a knock at your door. Never one to keep guests waiting, you immediately jumped out of your seat to rush to the door, forgetting the crucial reminder to check the knocker. It is this one fatal mistake that seals your fate forevermore.

“(Y/n).” His voice is the same as you remember, reverent, loving (as if you meant the world). He looks the same, the blue horns atop his head that he would only allow you to touch, the teal eyes that could always read you as if you were an open book, the long, black hair you loved to braid. You used to lay on his lap, one of his hands holding yours, the other caressing your cheek with a gentleness reserved for delicate flowers, lulling you to your shared dream.

Your name from his lips sounds so right, yet, yet, like the forbidden fruit from the Garden of Eden, a tempting yet unpardonable sin. Your name sounds as though it was specifically intended for his lips alone, but the taint of the past sours the feeling. He’s a traitor to the Xianzhou, he is exiled. He… is dead to you.

But… Why is it that you yearn for him? Why is it that your body longs to be in his embrace once more, that your heart desires to beat in sync with his?

“I love you.” This dream, cruel and twisted and evil in all its forms, has you weak. You can’t see straight, and the world is turning into a blur. How could he say that, while he looks like him? How dare he? Has Aha taken the form of your regret, and decided to make you THEIR victim?

You don’t realize the tears running down your face until he, holding your face with both hands, much like a lover would, wipes them away.

“Please don’t cry. I don’t like seeing you sad.” The sunlight shines upon him angelically, a frown marring his face. His eyes are panicked, unsure of what to do. He, so similar yet so different, knows not what a lover should do.

The panic in his eyes morphs to confusion when you weakly push his hands away, trying your hardest to compose yourself in front of him. He is not the same person you once knew, and he deserves freedom.

Wiping the last of your tears away, you invite him into your home. He is visibly shocked, accepting your invitation without hesitation, following you to the couch. You offer him a drink, tea, but he refuses.

“I learned some things from Jing Yuan.” He starts, quietly. He looks at you, and there is a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Please, I need to know what he did, the promises he broke, the sins he committed. I… need to make things right.”

“You do not need to repent for the sins of your predecessor. A child does not bear the responsibility of righting the wrongs of their parents; you do not bear the responsibilities of righting his wrongs.” You speak to him firmly, a sudden strength in your voice. “Please, Dan Heng, be free from me; be free from the Luofu.”

“But I love-”

“You do not love me.” An anger flashes in his eyes briefly, and had you blinked you would have missed it. The anger, ever so brief, on his face is the same as you remember. “You love what your predecessor loved about me. All your memories of me are his, and you are not him. You have the chance to love freely, to meet all kinds of people from all walks of life - I am but a speck of dust in the tempest of your life. Soon I will be nothing but a memory, perhaps bittersweet, and you will find something, someone, that you’ll love.”

You hope, desperately, that he understands. He says he is not Imbibitor Lunae, that he is not Dan Feng; then severing your ties with him would be the final nail in the coffin, the true death of the High Elder of the Vidyadhara, and the birth of Dan Heng, a member of the Astral Express who freely travels the galaxy with his companions.

“…I don’t want it.” Now it is your turn to be shocked. Has he lost his mind?

“Dan Heng, I have tried to be kind considering your situation. However, you seem to not be understanding.” Your reprimand is immediate, tumbling out of your mouth as if they were prepared beforehand.

“And I don’t want it. I need you, don’t you understand? Even… even if I deny him, he, and the ones before him, will always have a hold on me. The hold is you. We can’t live without you, none of us have. Don’t you know? As pointless as it may be, Vidyadharas mate for life; leaving without you would be akin to condemning myself to an eternity of heartbreak and misery.” He pleads, even taking your hands in his. “Even if my love for you is, thus far, only brought upon by his memories, it is fate, destiny, that I will fall in love with you again and again and again.”

Your heart hurts all over again, and you make no move to reply. Your head hangs, your eyes staring at your lap, at your intertwined hands. Gently, delicately, he brings your hand to his heart, and it beats in tandem with yours.

“Remember the vows he swore to you at that festival, many years ago?” He, Dan Heng, you must remind yourself, moves you to his lap, and you’re reminded of the many times you’ve shared this position with his lookalike. There is the same tenderness and warmth, the same comfort and protection it brings, yet you are reminded all the same that he is not the one you love.

“Those are — were his vows to keep, not yours.” You remind once more, but your words seem to reach deaf ears when the only expression on his face is that of a lovesick, diseased man.

“His vows were of reunion and love, and he has promised you eternity. If there is something of his I am willing to uphold, it is his vows to you.” He takes the hand on his heart and brings it to his cheek, leaning into your hand. Slyly, he moves your ear to his heart, and you find that the beating of the muscle doesn’t quite bring you relief. No, something brews inside your heart, and it feels closer to fear.

“Dan Heng, I d-”

“Say my name again.” He demands, his eyes, the bright teal eyes you once loved, harboring a hunger you had never seen before, not even from him.

“Dan… Heng…”

“I remember reading a story in the archives once. A pair of lovers, forever forced to part, doomed to the cycle of reincarnation. In every life, they found each other, but not every meeting was as joyful as it should have been.” He murmurs, his tail wrapping around your waist. His eyes are half-lidded, and he looks as if he has ascended to another plane. “In one of their happier lives, they grew old together. One posed a question to the other as they lay on their deathbeds, destined to continue their cycle of eternal existence. Do you know what the question was?”

Silence rings louder than it has ever been, yet still, he patiently awaits your answer. He knows that at the end of the day, you fall to him. He knows that you will speak.

“I do not.” He is right.

““How many meetings receive their worthy ends?” I have pondered this question since the first time we met at Scalegorge Waterscape, and I have decided.” With a strength you often forget he has, he picks you up and walks out of the door, ignorant of all the stares and whispers that plague his appearance. “I have decided that this meeting will receive the end it is worthy of.”

Everything else he says thereafter is nothing more than white noise.

~~~

Jing Yuan seemed more than happy to let you go with Dan Heng, and the Express was more than happy to welcome you aboard. Dan Heng, having reverted back to his more casual appearance, sticks close to you. Not that it matters, for you rarely leave the Archives.

March 7th is a peppy girl. Himeko is a kind woman. Welt Yang is a knowledgeable member. The Trailblazer is a resilient being. And Dan Heng…

Dan Heng is your captor, holding you to a vow from centuries ago. You have yet to have a moment of rest, a moment where you could finally breathe, but every time you look at him you are reminded of the real person behind the appearance. He is, first and foremost, a dragon, and dragons are primitive creatures; their rules of existence follow simple principles of eating when they are hungry, fighting when they are angry, and taking what they desire.

“Fortune granted our union amidst a crowd of ten thousand,” he reads, your head on his lap. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his fond gaze. A fate of being struck by the mara would be a better fate than being a prisoner of your regret.

Lately, he has taken a liking to the poetry collection you brought with you. His reading has soured the otherwise bewitching poetry, yet you don’t wish for the deception of sleep — you know that it will only bring you the sweet dream you are trying to escape.

“I’d rather break my heart and bathe in flames,

than to break the thought

of night’s drizzle and water lilies by your side.”

#yandere #honkai star rail #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #hsr #yandere x reader #dan heng #yandere dan heng #dan heng x reader #fem reader #female reader #imbibitor lunae

[frenchkisstheabyss]

⛧𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝙸𝙸𝙸⛧

⛧ Pairing: poly!slasher!minsung x chubby!fem!reader

⛧ Genre: slasher au/horror/fluff/angst

⛧ Summary: It's been two weeks since that fateful night your crushes revealed their killer hobby to you. You promise yourself you'll never look back but your ties to each other can't be severed so easily. Especially not when your own gruesome urges begin to creep in and an unexpected visitor gives you the perfect opportunity to set them free. Do you have it in you to resist or are you destined to return to them?

⛧ Word Count: 2.1k-ish

⛧ Warnings: horror elements, masturbation (f w/ vibrator), blood, violence (none between you 3 though. you psychos love each other too much), someone breaks into reader's house w/ short fight scene after, erotic homicidal urges, dead bodies, strong language, you become a killer bby girl, suggestive convos, everyone gets kinda sentimental, & that's all.

⛧ A/N: I'm such a spooky girl at my core (it's where my writing roots are) so it's been fun writing this dark comedy/romance and I love you forever if you're joining this quite odd ride with me.

Also thank youuu @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 and @lxsunshine for asking to be tagged! I've never really had a tag list but if anyone else wants to be, totally let me know! 🖤

💀 <<< Rewind to Tape 1 <<< 💀

Somewhere along the way your wires got crossed. You could blame it on Han and Minho for what they did but that’d be unfair wouldn’t it? What they uncovered in you—the same darkness lurking within themselves—has alway been here and it refuses to be buried again. But you try.

It’s been a long 15 minutes soaking in this bath with one leg draped over the side of the tub and your waterproof vibrator buzzing away beneath the lilac bubbles. Music plays in your headphones, ambient tunes meant to melt the tension from your body. Squeezing your eyes shut you try—you really try—to chase off intrusive visions of two sickeningly handsome psychopaths. You don’t want to remember what you saw that night but the picture’s so clear in your head that it might as well be playing out in front of you all over again.

For the few seconds that you manage to shake the thought, your vibrator feels useless. It hums against your walls with all the enjoyment of a leg that’s fallen asleep. But when the image snaps back into frame—them standing there in nearly nothing, blood dripping down their bodies—it feels heavenly. The pleasure travels through you in pulses, spreading further out the longer you indulge in your memories.

This isn’t right. You have to stop. You know you do. So do it. You can’t. Lie to yourself all you want but this is what you need. Water splashes onto the floor as your leg slips into the tub, moans dancing freely from your lips. Your heart thumps like a techno beat, battling the light music in your headphones for dominance.

The pressure in your lower belly overtakes you, dangerously close to erupting. Crashing into your high, your eyes fall open and you’re met with a face you haven’t seen in months. You open your mouth to scream but a hand is already around your throat, dragging you out of the bathtub. 

“Where’s my brother?” the man shouts, the dim lighting in the bathroom only partially concealing a face twisted with rage.

You claw at his hands, nails slicing through his skin like razors. He grunts, gripping his bloody hand, and tosses you across the floor. A framed picture crashes to the floor as you hit the wall with a thud, your ears ringing at the impact. Turning to lunge at you again, he trips on the soaking wet bath mat and falls at your feet. You latch onto the toilet, struggling to pull yourself up when you’re still covered in bubbles.

“I know you know something! So tell me!” he demands, catching you by the ankle. He uses all of his strength to drag you down but you’re too slippery to hold onto.

“I don’t know where your fucking brother is!” you scream, grabbing onto the toilet tank. Tucking your fingers under the lip of the heavy lid, you pull at it as hard as you can. 

“You’re lying! Either tell me what happened or I’ll make you, you fucking bi—”

Ding! You swing around and crack him in the head with the porcelain lid. He stares up, not particularly at you, his gaze empty. Everything goes dark for him, blood gushing down his head, and he’s down. High off of adrenaline, you toss on your robe and run for the phone at the end of the hall. Hands shaking, tears running down your cheeks, you pick it up to call the cops. But something stops you.

Instinct takes over and your fingers are already dialing the new number. You wipe the tears from your cheeks and find yourself fixated on the bloody skin under your nails. The line rings so many times that you almost think no one will answer.

“My baby!” Han cheers on the other end of the call, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “I missed you.”

 There’s some shuffling followed by Minho’s voice, “We missed you!” 

You flick the skin from under your nails, smiling to yourself. “Hi boys,” you sniffle, knowing there’s no turning back, “I missed you too. You wouldn’t happen to be, uh, busy tonight would you?”

Minho feels like an old man who can’t get his dick up. It might actually be easier if he were. At least then there’d be a pill to fix what he’s going through. Ever since you walked out that door both he and Han have had the worst dry spell they’ve ever experienced. The only dry spell they’ve ever experienced. The last body they touched was your ex’s. They threw it, every last piece of it, somewhere no one would ever find him and left it at that. It just wasn’t fun anymore.

Detectives call what they’re going through a “cooling off” period. It’s the time between murders when a serial killer returns to their normal lives, biding their time until they can kill again. Poking his spoon around in a bowl of soggy cereal, a pouty Minho doubts that’ll happen any time soon. “I hate this!” he whines, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

Han pushes his legs away, flopping down beside him on the couch, “Get your feet off my coffee table.”

“Meh meh meh meh meh meh meh” Minho mocks, deflating when it hits him that he can hardly enjoy picking on Han anymore.

Han scooches closer to Minho, offering him a shoulder to lay his head on. Minho takes it, feeling Han’s sadness without having to see the heartbroken look on his face. No matter how much he teases him, Han’s his best friend. They’re brothers. They understand each other like no one else can and he knows how badly Han hoped you would too.

“You wanna go to the medical history museum tomorrow?” Minho asks, calling upon all of his cuteness to make Han happy.

Han doesn’t answer but exhales a “Hmm…” that signals he might be interested. 

Minho bats his eyelashes, laying it on heavy, “Come on, they have the world’s largest collection of human skulls. You know you love good head. I mean, no, wait, that didn’t…shit.” Han hangs his head, laughing so hard it makes him wheeze. “Why would you say that? Just why?”

Minho sits up, elbowing him in the side, “Fuck you. I was trying to cheer you up.”

Han throws his arms around Minho, hugging him tightly, “Stop sulking! I’ll go! Who needs a girl when you have the world’s largest collection of human skulls, ya know?”

Minho narrows his eyes, resisting the urge to fight against the hug just this once. Deep down inside, really deep, he loves it. “Exactly” he huffs, “Women are a distraction anyway. We’re better off without her.” 

Ring! Ring! Ring! The sound of the phone sucks all of the air from the room and their stomachs collectively sink. In record time they’re halfway across the room, pushing each other out of the way to check the caller ID. Your name flashes on it and Han snatches it up just as Minho’s fingers graze the buttons. 

Han answers the phone, almost too excited to contain himself, “My baby!” Minho folds his arms, quietly judging Han for being such a dork about this.

“I missed you” Han says, lower this time, his back turned to Minho.

What happened to not needing you? What happened to being better off without you? Oh, fuck it.

Minho steals the phone, blushing so hard his ears turn red, “We missed you.”

A minimum of six traffic laws were broken when the boys realized something had happened to you. Of course you couldn’t tell them the incriminating details over the phone. Luckily, hearing you cry was more than enough for them to stop everything and speed across the city to check on you. They really only cared about seeing you again but the presence of a possibly dead body doesn’t hurt.

In your second stroke of luck tonight, if you can call it that, you’re positive no one knows he’s here. There’s nothing on him to track him by. He came only with the tools he used to break in and a taser he no doubt intended to use on you. And there won’t be any fuss from your downstairs neighbor. She hasn’t been able to hear since 1982. All that’s left is the matter of what to do with him. 

Gathered in your bathroom, the three of you stand over the body carefully watching for signs of life. Han and Minho glance at each other behind your back. They’re both wondering the same thing but don’t know how to ask. They play a quick game of rock, paper, scissors. Han’s rock and he hates that for himself. Minho’s paper and he’s never been happier. Minho mouths, “Loser” and Han flips him off. 

“Baby” Han says sweetly, holding your hand, “Were you and this guy, like…”

You stare at him, happy to be holding his hand but genuinely confused, “Were we?” Reading the room, you pick up on what they mean. “No, no, no! Never! This…” you say, kicking the motionless body, “Is my ex’s shithead brother. He broke in cause he wants to know where his brother is.”

Minho shrugs, pulling the belt to your bathrobe out, “Let’s make sure they’re reunited then shall we?” He wraps the belt around each hand a few times until there’s tension in the fabric and just enough room to fit a human neck. Minho sits down on the floor, positioning the man’s head in his lap. He’s ready to tighten the belt around his neck but there’s something bugging him. “Do you guys hear that?”

You all listen closely, picking up on a nearly inaudible buzzing. Han follows the sound over to the bathtub where the bubbles have long dissolved and spots the source immediately. He rolls his sleeves up and reaches into the water, pulling out your vibrator.

“Oh my god. Give it here!” you shriek, taking it and switching it off. You toss it in the cabinet under the sink, unable to handle how much they’re obviously loving this. “So, did you come at least?” Minho asks, relaxing his hold on the belt. 

“I’m not answering that.” 

Han’s studied you enough to tell when you’re lying. “She did! Did you think about us when you did it?” 

Minho giggles, far too pleased with himself, “She did.” 

“Go to hell!” you snap, getting on your knees beside Minho. You take the belt from him, winding it around your hands the same way that he did. “Show me.”

Your boldness throws them off—this is far from what they were expecting—but they don’t hesitate to guide you. Han joins you on the other side, showing you how to hold the belt properly. Minho checks the pulse before propping the body up for you. It’s weak but it’s there. It feels natural to be doing this together, like the space between them was always meant to be one you’d inhabit.

“Thanks for coming, you guys” you say, seconds from strangling a man, “Most guys won’t even buy me flowers and you risked the electric chair for me. That’s way sweet”

“You’re worth risking the electric chair for” Han coos, kissing you on the cheek.

Minho nods in agreement, kissing you on the other cheek, “Cutie.”

Your cheeks are so warm and you can’t stop yourself from smiling. You’re basically glowing at the love being poured into you. It’s perfect enough that you regret running away from it to begin with but that won’t happen this time.

“Aah!” the man croaks, shooting back into consciousness. He tries to sit up but you use the belt to hold him down, squeezing it as hard as you can around his neck. You lock your legs around him, something they didn’t need to instruct you to do, and hang on until he goes limp. They look at you like they’re terrified of you, afraid to make any sudden movements in case you’re in the mood to come for them too. 

Han takes him by the wrist, checking his pulse, “He’s…dead. Holy shit. You killed a guy.” 

“I killed a guy?” 

“You did! Good girl” Minho applauds, breaking out into a happy dance.

You and Han join him, dancing to totally different songs in your head but celebrating together nonetheless. Han gets up from the floor, dusting himself off, “Now you’ve just gotta chop him up. Got any food in your fridge? I’m hungry.” He wanders off to the kitchen, leaving you and Minho alone in the bathroom.

Minho gets up too, kissing you on the top of the head. “I could use a midnight snack too” he yawns following Han’s lead, “Be careful with the radial artery, love. It bleeds like a bitch.” 

Pushing the body off of you, you hop up to chase after them. “Wait! You’re ditching me for snacks? I don’t have the tools for this. And what the fuck is a radial artery?” 

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #stray kids au #minsung x reader #han jisung x reader #lee know x reader #han jisung angst #lee know angst #lee know x you #han jisung x you #chubby reader #plus size reader

[fantasyandshit]

Can I have a cookie

Type: one shot

Pairing: Eris x fem reader

Based on this request

Master list here

Fluff, just fluffy fluff

“Love? It’s time to go home.” Eris can’t help the low giggle that leaves him as I whirl around.

“I have a mate mister. And I love him very much. So back off.” My eyes are blown wide, my words slurring together.

“Yn. Love. I am your mate.”

“No! My mate is wayyyyy more handsome than you. He’s like, so pretty, and hot, and strong and-“ I continue rambling on and on to the stranger.

“Yn! It’s me! I’m Eris, I’m your mate!” I watch fire flick in his hand and gasp.

“Ohhhh Eris! You will not believe! This man, he tried coming up to me and bringing me home, saying he was you!” This makes Eris laugh, leading me to the door of the bar whilst shaking his head.

I stumble down the street, Eris supporting most of me, that’s when I see it- a pretty moth. I giggle, chasing after it down the street, falling over and stumbling. Eric’s tries to catch up, shouting for me and laughing as I continue. Finally, my mate catches me, picking me up and spinning me around with a broad grin.

I giggle again, opening my palms causing the moth to flutter out. “You really are crazy, aren’t you love?” Eris smiles down at me, winnowing us to the front of the Vanserra estate. I stumble up the steps before stopping. “Wait! Look!” I point to the stars, it’s a bit windy but still a beautiful night. “They are so pretty, shiny!”

I plop down onto the ground, a grunt leaving me as my butt hits the ground. I hear Eris sit beside me as we look at the stars. “Yes love, very pretty. But we need to get you to bed ok?”

“Ugh no! What are you? My dad?” I raise a brow at him, I can tell he’s holding back a dirty remark as he looks back to the sky for a moment before standing up and offering me his hand.

Not realizes this means he’s going tot ask me inside, I grab it. He picks me up bridal style, causing me to yelp and try to get out of his grip. “No! I wanna look at the sky diamonds!”

“We can look at them tomorrow ok?”

“Ok.” I pout as he carries me up the stairs and to our room, setting me softly on the bed. He disappears for a moment, coming back in with a warm cloth, wiping the make up from my face, pulling my dress from my body. He helps me stand, slipping a nightgown over my bare body, he sits me back on the bed against his chest, brushing my hair softly. “I love you.” A smile spreads across my face as I look at my handsome mate.

“I love you too.” He leans down, placing a soft kiss to my lips.

“Can I have a cookie?” I whisper on his lips.

“What?”

“Can I have a cookie?”

He laughs softly, “yes. I’ll go get you a cookie, drink that water and lay down ok?”

I nod, watching my mate leave the room.

———

“Ugh fuck. My head.”

Eris laughs behind me, hurrying over to my side of the bed, “yeah you were so drunk last night love. Didn’t even realize it was me when I tried to get you home.” He smiles as I rub my head.

Eris grabs my water from the night stand, along with a tonic from the healer. “Here, take these. I’ll go get some breakfast ok?” I nod, drinking the water and downing the tonic, wondering what else I did last night.

—————

Okkkk there you go! I hope this is up to your standard anon!

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel #elain archeron #elain x reader #feyre archeron #feyre x reader #nesta archeron #nesta x reader #cassian x reader #cassian #rhysand x reader #rhysand #eris vanserra #eris x reader #fluff

[princessbrunette]

i dislocated my tailbone (it’s insane. i didn’t even know i had a TAIL.BONE. 😖 ?!?!?!) and it actually hurts a lot. like, very much. actual-tears-in-my-eyes and groans-in-my-mouth much. so i’m here to pretty please (with a cherry on top !!!) ask to be coddled by jonh b about it. 🤓

btw, i hope you have a great day today (and the day after. and all the days ever) !!! and take good care of your booty, princess; it’s way more delicate than what one would guess.

you’re my favorite person on this app. MWAH.

noooo i hope you recover quickly !! thank u for the sweet message i will indeed be looking after my booty ♡

𝜗ϱ. ꙳ 🦴 * ˙ ∘ 🤍 ˙ ۵ ꙳🪽

in terms of being coddled he would be such a nag about it. waking you up from a nap when you forget to take pain meds, hovering over your face whispering “hey, hey bub— gotta get up n’take these okay? you’re gonna be like, super sore if you don’t. come on bubba, coooome on.” whilst he slowly eases you up.

he’d force you to be on bed rest constantly which means no taking part in pogue shenanigans for a long time even if you really want to. if he catches you getting up and trying to nose around he’d swiftly walk you back to your bed and sit you down with a dad-like sigh, lecturing you. “look, i know okay? it must be super boring just sitting around here. but i need you to get better. can you do that for me? can you get better?” and he looks all exasperated and worried that you just can’t say no!

inevitably, you do have to get up sometimes— whether it’s because you’re hungry or you need the toilet— and even though you’re totally fine to do that by yourself, if he hears your footsteps padding around he’ll suddenly appear by your side, helping you walk. “hey, i got you.”

“john b i’m fine. i’m already healing!”

“well, you can keep healing. with my help!” he smiles simply, knowing you won’t win this one. “dont make me tell your doctor.” he threatens jokingly as he walks you towards the bathroom carefully.

“you wouldn’t dare.” you smile.

“oh i would!”

𝜗ϱ. ꙳ 🦴 * ˙ ∘ 🤍 ˙ ۵ ꙳🪽

#anon #john b prompt

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

girls just wanna have fun 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, blackmail, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your struggle to push back against your controlling father result in a misguided crush. (Silverfox AU)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself

Bucky emerges with a tray and you try not to break your cool demeanour. You don’t want to try too hard. You hear him before you see him, grumbling at Sam who as always, won’t shut up. 

Shelby’s bottle is already empty as she squeezes it between her hands. She sits upright on a chair, teetering on the edge as if she might flee. You wish she’d chill out. As Bucky puts down the tray, you sit up, letting the towel catch on the chair and pull down from your chest. 

“Mm, looks yummy,” you say, trying to look at the chocolate marshmallows and not Bucky. 

You ignore Sam’s scoff as Bucky faces you. You grab the towel and stand, “oops.” 

You open it before you readjust it, showing off your red bathing suit and how little it covers. You notice Bucky look but his reaction is less than you want. He looks away whereas Sam lets his tongue poke out like some stupid horny frat boy.

You roll your eyes and knot the towel firmly. You grab your bottle and drain it, catching up to Shelby as she lingers at the edge of the scene. 

“Another?” Sam offers. 

“Sam,” Bucky hisses. 

“What? Those things aren’t that strong. They're all sugar,” Sam is already reaching into the cooler, another grunt from his stoic friend. “Come on, ladies, help yourself to something sweet.” 

You hesitate and Shelby gulps loudly. 

“The smores,” Sam chuckles and offers both you and your friend a new drink.  

You take yours but give Shelby a long look as she accepts hers. She’s only supposed to be moral support, you can’t send her home blitzed. Oh well, your dad won’t care if she stays over. 

“More for me,” Bucky shrugs and turns his attention to the tray. 

Shelby peers over at you. She’s always waited for you to take the lead and you always did so reluctantly. Not anymore. You’re a woman and you’re making this world what you want. She could take a lesson or two. You take a drink then set your bottle down. 

You come up next to Bucky as he skewers a marshmallow and you do the same. He’s orderly in how he has his little sandwich. The graham crackers are placed neatly side by side and chocolate on top of one, waiting. 

“Did you fix your hose?” You ask, mustering some small talk that makes you want to cringe. 

He doesn’t answer right away. You poke a skewer through a marshmallow and he shrugs, “need a new one.” 

You repress a sigh as he goes to the fire. You hear Sam laughing. You look back but you can’t tell if it’s aimed at you or Shelby as he stands across from her. Oh well. 

You follow Bucky and put your marshmallow over the fire with him. 

“Like I said, you can borrow ours,” you smile. 

“Mm, should I ask your dad?” He challenges as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. 

“I’m an adult, it’s my house too,” you insist. 

“And he’s okay with you being here?” 

“Wow, you know, you’re sounding a lot like him. You two might get along if you tried.” 

“Hm,” he hums and retracts his skewer, “you weren’t always this mouthy.” 

He leaves you by the fire, stunned. You look over your shoulder and pull back the stick, your marshmallow a flame. You blow it out and hurry over to the table. You scramble to make your own sandwich as your host perfectly slides his marshmallow onto the chocolate. Your own is a skew and you burn yourself trying to get the marshmallow off the skewer. 

“Shoulda done that first,” he shakes his head. 

You give him a look. He is quickly breaking the fantasy. You don’t need another father, you need to fuck. Or at least, think about fucking. Ugh, this is a disaster. 

“Thanks, I’ll do better next time,” you smile again. His cheek ticks. 

He takes his sandwich and backs off. You look at yours. You don’t want it. You grab a napkin and put it under the melting stack and carry if over to Shelby. Sam is getting closer, looming over her. 

“Hey, Shel, I made you one,” you offer her the sticky mess. 

“Mm, definitely not the culinary type, are you?” Sam scoffs, “won’t make a housewife of you.” 

“It’s a smore,” you say defensively as you hand over the sandwich. 

“The top is cracked.” 

“Yeah, and? It’ll just break when she bites into it,” you put your hands on your hips as you face him, “like, mind your own business or whatever.” 

He chuckles, “God, you girls are fun.” Shelby slumps further down as Sam’s gross leer dips down in her direction, “not too late for a swim, you girls could come for a dip.” 

Shelby doesn’t say anything and you push your shoulders straight. You can tell she’s uncomfortable and you can only assume what he’s been saying to her. You expected as much but in the moment, you’re not so alright with it all. 

“She doesn’t have a suit and the water’s cold,” you deflect, “but thanks. You’re welcome to go dive in by yourself.” 

“Oh, I can do whatever I want,” he rebuffs, “but I know what you’re looking for, huh? You just wanna see me take my shirt off. All you have to do is ask, baby.” 

He peels off his tee shirts and your grimace. You look at Shelby as she holds the uneaten smore and her half-empty bottle. Oof, slow down, girl. 

You look back at Sam as he puffs his chest out. Ugh, this isn’t supposed to be about him. You look over as Bucky sits on the foot of a lounger and nibbles on his smore, staring into the fire. The flicker casts his features just perfectly. Goddamnit! 

“No one wants to see it--” 

“I know exactly what you want, baby,” he growls and steps closer. You can't deny that his chest is nice, even for his age. He still has a good amount of muscle, though a touch of softness in his stomach. “Don’t worry, I can handle two at a time. She’s kinda sexy, you know? That t-shirt with the turtles is getting me going--” 

You shove him, slapping his chest. That is not alright. Not just him, but you. You shouldn’t have brought her here. You might know what you’re getting into but she didn’t. You’re a lousy friend. 

“Come on, Shelby, let’s go home before my dad gets back.” 

“Oh, yes, run home, but daddy’s right here,” Sam taunts.  

You roll your eyes and wave at Shelby, “come on.” 

“Can I keep the smore?” She asks. She’s tipsy. 

“Sure,” you grab her elbow and take the bottle away from her. You give it to Sam and send him one last scowl. You turn and lift a hand, “bye, Mr. Barnes, see you around.” 

“Baby, you know I can get you what you really want. Just think about what I said,” Sam intones as he steps closer. 

You elbow him away and drag Shelby up the lawn muttering. Fuck. That was so stupid. What a fucking dud. You let yourself through the gate and circle around to your house. 

When you get Shelby through the front door, she has marshmallow and chocolate stuck around her lips. She chews a mouthful as she falls onto the bench by the shoe mat. 

“I’m sorry,” you lean against the wall across from her. She just munches. “I shouldn’t have taken you over there.” 

She looks at you and nods. She’s sleepy. She’s not going to forget any of this and even if she did, you won’t. 

“You don’t get it, Shel,” you push away from the wall and sit next to her. “I don’t know but I just... need to break out. I need something,” you put your elbows on your legs, “it’s not fair to bring you into it but I swear, Shel, by the end of the summer, I am going to fuck Mr. Barnes.” 

“What?” She croaks and chokes down her last bite. “You--” 

“It’s all I think about. I don’t know, I’m so fucking horny all the time. It’s like one day I just woke up and had this need--” 

“Oh?” Her eyes widen again. 

“Don’t look at me like that. Tell me you never got any sort of... urges.” 

“Well, yeah, I guess, but I just... deal with them. Play some switch and forget,” she shrugs, trying to wipe the stickiness from her mouth drunkenly. She seems so childish in tweaks doubt in your chest. Are you out of your depth? 

“I mean it, you know? I’m sorry,” you sit up and lean your head back. “I’m a shitty fucking friend.” 

“Mm,” she hums, “tonight you were, but not always.” 

You smile softly, “how about you kick my ass at some MarioKart?” 

#bucky barnes #sam wilson #dark bucky barnes #dark sam wilson #dark!bucky barnes #dark!sam wilson #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #drabble #series #au #silverfox au #girls just wanna have fun #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #falcon and the winter soldier

[blackcatsnstrawberries]

A Love That Chose Us

@elriel-month 2024

Companion to A Choice That Binds Us

Azriel has a problem on his hands. He promised his chosen mate that he would meet her at their new home, but a last minute mission has side tracked him. Desperate and filled with love, Azriel does his best to find flowers that are as beautiful as Elain, only to discover that this idea would be much more difficult than originally planned.

Word Count: 2490

Prompt: Choice

Tropes: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, HEA

Gifting: @theanonymousopossum (Surprise Bestie!! You get double!!!)

And of course the spicy version is available on my AO3

A Love That Chose Us

I landed in the soft mulch around the cabin, the frost of winter slowly melting leaving the ground damp and muddy. The day was clear, the sun shining brightly through the trees. I thought of Elain back in Velaris, telling Feyre about our bond. Our chosen bond. I envied Elain as she had the easier High Fae to disclose our secret to.

Rhysand and Cassian appeared a few feet from me, Rhys having winnowed Cassian to the cabin to meet with me. When I pictured having this conversation with Rhys, I did not think Cassian would be involved, but I was glad to see the male.

Nesta was the only person who truly knew of mine and Elain’s bond, of the sneaking around we do, of the late nights at the townhouse. Cassian suspects something, but knowing his mate is on our side may make him try and talk Rhys down about Court Bonds.

“Planning the snow fight a little early, Az?” Rhys asked as he looked around, a smirk on his face.

“Perhaps later. I need to talk to you.”

The smirk dropped from Rhys’ face as quickly as it appeared. He raised an eyebrow. “Something on your mind Az?”

I motioned to the cabin door with a nod of my head, Rhys and Cassian following me inside. The walls were painted from Feyre’s time here when she learned of the mating bond between her and Rhys. One of the pictures that always catches my attention was the three winged males with the three females.

Three brothers to three sisters. 

Rhys sighed and sat down in one of the worn arm chairs, Cassian standing between us with his arms crossed, as though he was preparing to jump between us if this conversation turned sour.

“Well, what is it?” Rhys asked.

I looked quickly as Cassian before blowing out a long breath. “The Cauldron was wrong. Elain and I have chosen to be mates.” Saying the words out loud, knowing the truth of the Cauldron and the Daglan felt like lifting a weight off my chest.

Rhys eyes darkened, though his face remained neutral. His voice was soft when he spoke. “I told you to stay away from her.”

“And I told you, you cannot order me to do that.”

Rhys pursed his lips. “Do you know what damage this will cause? She is mated to Lucien-”

“She doesn’t want to be mated to Lucien.” I quipped.

“We need the bond to the Autumn Court-”

“Bonds be damned!” I yelled, hands curling into fists at my side. Rhysand bolted up and Cassian took a step in between us. “The Cauldron chose wrong. I love her, true bond or not.”

Rhys hand his hand through his hair, turning around and looking out the window. “And if Lucien, or Beron, calls for the Blood Duel?”

“I’m not worried.” It was the truth.

Rhys nodded and slowly turned back around, eyes bearing into Cassian. “Did you know about this?”

Cassian remained stoic, arms crossed over his chest. “I...had a suspicion.”

I smirked. We have always ribbed Cassian about his observation skills, outside the battlefield. Though he was proving to be more observant than I have given him credit for. 

Rhys tsked and rubbed his jaw. “I can’t protect you if a Blood Duel is called.”

I nodded. “I understand.”

Rhys smiled. His eyes darted up to the wall with the six figures. “Who would have thought, three brothers finding love with three sisters. It seems like something out of a tall tale.”

“So you’re not going to demand I break my bond with Elain?”

Rhys shook his head, “No, Azriel, I am not. Don’t think I haven’t noticed a change in you over these last few years. You laugh more, smile more. That’s all Elain.” He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I am happy for you. And may your bond, chosen or otherwise, be blessed.”

I let out a winded breath, loosening my fists as my shoulders sagged in relief. Cassian seemed to be having the same reaction, as his body also released all it’s tension.

Rhys chuckled. “Feeling ok there, Cas?”

Cassian dragged a hand down his face. “I thought I was going to have to pull you guys off each other.” He smiled and clapped me on the back. “Congratulations, Az. A bonded male.”

I smiled, eyes catching Rhys’ from across the room. The High Lord smiled back, hands going into his jacket pocket in a casual pose. 

“I’m guessing Elain is having this same conversation with Feyre?” As if on cue, Rhys’ eyes looked forward as his mate talked to him in his mind. He smirked. “Feyre is making sure you’re still alive. I told her not to worry.”

“Nesta is going to be wondering as well.” Cassian said. He walked towards Rhys, preparing to winnow back to Velaris.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Elain and I have plans.” I said. Rhys gave me a knowing wink before winnowing him and Cassian away.

Before leaving to the meeting, Elain had told me to meet her at the Townhouse when we were done. Knowing my mate had something planned, I winnowed into Velaris and walked around the busy markets looking for a bouquet of flowers. I wanted one that stood out, one that matched her beauty. The more I looked, the more I could see none met those standards. The shop keepers tried helping me, even suggesting to make one, but nothing would be good enough for her.

“What does she like?” The shopkeeper asked me as I looked again.

“Roses.”

The fae nodded. “It’s too bad that my Night Roses didn’t grow in, they are a beautiful and rare deep purple. They tend to grow around the mountains because it’s more damp.”

I thanked her for her time and walked away, taking one last look at the flowers. I did not want to show up to the Townhouse empty handed, but there was nothing that truly matched Elain’s beauty. 

I took a deep breath and tilted my head back, eyes closed as my face was warmed by the sun. If only I could get some of those roses…

I opened my eyes. There was still some time before Elain was expecting me. I could winnow to the mountains and look for the Night Rose. Without a second thought, I winnowed into the forest, close to the mountain and began my search.

The Fae had been right, it was like a swamp up here, and because of the proximity of the mountain the air still had a bite of winter to it. I searched, crouching and lifting up branches trying to find this rare rose, all while keeping my eyes on the lowering sun.

When I was beginning to give up hope, I lifted up a final branch and found a large rose bush. The rose was the colour of eggplant, then stems covered in black thorns. I grabbed Truth Teller from my belt and moved to slice a dozen roses when I paused. These flowers were rare, cutting them just meant they would die in a few days. Elain deserved something this stunning in her garden.

I let go of the stem and started using Truth Teller to start digging around the stem. The thorns were difficult to avoid, they sliced into my already scared hands as easily as slicing into softened butter.

The roots were farther down in the mud than I anticipated, eventually I was on my knees trying to dig out the plants. I got my first one, ripping it from the ground and slicing open my palm in the process. I wiped the sweat off my brow, mud caking to my face.

I looked up at the sky, the sun was setting. I still needed more flowers. I huffed and continued digging, propagating each flower from the bush and bundling them together. 

By the time I was done, I was coated in mud, blood and sweat. My blood was dripping down into the ground around the rose bush. The moon was out, the sun long gone and I was late for Elain. 

I grabbed the roses I worked so hard to find and winnowed to the Townhouse. The lights were on, hopefully she was home. I opened the door and the house smelled of fresh bread and spices. I hurried into the kitchen in the back, Elain was standing there with her hair over one shoulder, a pink gown hugging her body, her lips a delicate shade of pink to match.

I looked like I had been dragged out of a bog.

“I’m sorry.” I said quickly, looking down to the ground.

She gasped. “What happened?”

I looked up, her hands were over her mouth. I lifted up the roses in my hands and showed her. “I was trying to get you these.” I placed the roses on the table, when my hands were empty, Elain was there with a towel, wrapping my bleeding hands.

“Did you dig these up?” Her eyes narrowed as she came across the mud under my fingernails, embedded in my cuts.

The corner of my mouth ticked up. “When I returned from the cabin, I wanted to bring you flowers, but none were beautiful enough. I was told the Night Rose was in bloom so I winnowed to the mountain to pick you some.”

She squeezed my hands, a smile blooming on her face. “You’re so thoughtful. But, uh…what happened?”

“When I saw the roses, I thought they would look better in your garden. In our garden. Instead of cutting them, I dug down to the bulb and propagated some. It was much more challenging than I anticipated.”

She gently let go of my hands before wrapping her arms around my neck, her pink painted lips pressing deeping into mine. I wanted to hold her, but I did not want her pretty dress to get stained with my blood. Keeping my hands away, I carefully wrapped my arms around her waist. Squeezing tight.

Elain rested her head against my blood leathers, not caring about her dress. She pulled away after a few moments, her dark eyes looking into mine.  “Let's get you cleaned up before we eat.”

We went to her bedroom, our bedroom. We went into the washroom and she started the bath, Elain helping me remove my dirty leathers, leaving them in a pile on the floor. I was naked in front of her, not for the first time, but her eyes wandered down my dirt covered body. Her face lit up with a smile. How ridiculous I must look, an Illyrian warrior who looked like he had spent the day playing in the mud. We both laughed.

I climbed into the tub, the warm waters washing over me as I leaned against the stone side. I looked up to her, crouched down next to the bath. “There’s room for two you know?”

She smiled and stood up, unfastening her dress and letting it fall into a pile around her feet before doing the same with her undergarments. She was exquisite. I took Elain’s hand and guided her into the bath in front of me.

She took the bar of soap and began washing away the remnants of my day off my hands, her soft skin running over my scars. I didn’t feel worthy of her, even though she had told me time and time again that she loved me more than anyone. How could someone so pure love me?

The soap moved around my body, washing away the dirt and grime. As her gentle touched cleaned my body, my hands found her waist, running my fingers over the curve of her waist. Eventually I ran them down to her thighs, cupping her and scooting her forward so her bare breasts were pressed against my chest.

When she was pressed close, I lifted my hand to her face and gently stroked her cheek, pressing my mouth gently into hers. Her hands were running through my wet hair, pulling at it.

We stayed in the bath until our bodies started to prune, though I could have stayed in there all night. I helped her climb out of the bath, wrapping her in a silk robe before pulling on a comfortable pair of trousers.

She went on her tip toes and gently kissed my cheek, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “I have something for you in the kitchen.” She took my hand and led me to the kitchen and sat me down at one of the chairs.

She brought bread to the table, cutting it up before going to a simmering cauldron over the fire and spooning its contents into a bowl. She placed the stew in front of me, its aroma enticing. 

“The potatoes and carrots may be overdone by now, but it should still taste okay.” she said softly.

“It’s perfect.” I said softly, picking up my spoon and taking a bite. It was the greatest thing I had ever eaten. My mate, my chosen mate, had made a meal for me. Even though our bond was not traditional, Elain had chosen to follow a Fae tradition. My heart swelled with too many emotions.

Elain looked so happy, watching me eat the meal she had prepared for me, for our chosen bond. I put my spoon down, standing up and guiding her to the seat next to mine. She had to enjoy this meal with me.

I went to the cauldron and filled up a bowl for her, she already had a piece of bread in her hand. When the bowl was in front of her, she dunked the bread in and took a bite, closing her eyes and savouring the taste.

We stayed long into the night, the sun beginning to rise as we cleaned the pots and finished the last piece of bread. I carried Elain up to our room and gently laid her down on the bed, slowly removing the barely tired silk robe from her body as her fingers traced the lines on my chest.

Our bodies intertwined as the world woke around us. I lavished on her with my tongue, gliding it along the places on her body that made her quiver and moan, her hands running through my hair and touching places that made me cry out in ecstasy.

We lay next to each other under the covers, her head leaning on my chest and my arm around her shoulders. My eyes had long ago shut, but I fought the exhaustion. I wanted to savour every moment with my mate.

I felt Elain’s gently fingers push a piece of hair back from my face, as the comfortable darkness of sleep started to take me. I had fought sleep for so many years, to finally give in, in the arms of my mate because our true love could trump even a mating bond.

#elriel month 2024 #elriel month #elrielmonth2024 #elrielmonth24 #pro elriel month #pro elriel #pro elain #pro azriel #elain and azriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar fanfiction #sjm multiverse #sjm books #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Nine | Where it all started…

Dom was gone when I woke up alone in the hotel bed. It wasn’t until I looked at my phone that I saw his text saying he went to the gym with buddies. My heart sank deeper into my chest knowing that I couldn’t be around every second of every day just to prevent anymore slip ups.

Me: I’m gonna go explore the shops. Text me when you’re done.

I didn’t expect a response, I don’t know what I expected as I stared down at my phone. Finally managing to get dressed I grabbed my bag and headed out of the hotel. Asking the front desk to direct me to the shops in walking distance. 

Leaving the hotel I headed for the shops breezing in and looking around before I bumped into someone. Immediately backing away I realized it was Randy. Setting off every alarm inside of me I quickly walked away only for him to follow me.

“I’m not pressing charges against Dom. It’s part of the job, shit gets blurred.” He shouted trying to catch up to me.

Stopping I turned around, glaring at him, “Press charges? He did nothing wrong.”

“My busted lip says otherwise, sweetheart.”

I wanted to roll my eyes but I crossed my arms. “He defended me, he did exactly what any man would do and looks like he did it well.” I smiled and snickered to myself knowing Dominik had managed to go toe-to-toe with a veteran in WWE.

Randy swiftly ate the space between us and locked his hand around my wrist. “We both know he’s a little boy and you need a man. When are you going to realize it? He has. Why else is he looking for a naïve pussy?”

“Let go of me.” Demanding, I pulled my wrist back and I could feel people watching us. I needed to leave before someone took it the wrong way entirely. 

Leaving Randy in the middle of the store I hustled back to the hotel. Dom was exiting the passenger seat of a white SUV when I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder. “Hey. Slow down. What’s wrong?”

Trying to collect myself I looked down at myself, “Nothing. Just some fans I wanted to avoid.”

Following close behind me into the hotel, he whispered into my ear while we waited for the elevator to recall. “You can tell me if you got revenge. He’d jump at the chance to have you.”

“Is that what you want? For someone else to touch me?” I asked Dom in the elevator even though his friend stood across from us. “Does that make us even?”

“Stop. Don’t fucking do that. I would kill someone for touching you. That’s not the point. I deserve whatever makes you forgive me. Including getting even.” He said it with a new step each word until I was pressed against the railing. “If that’s my punishment then I have to deal.”

“You touched her, kissed her, she touched you. Her fucking mouth was on your dick, Dom. I can’t make it stop from playing on a loop. Just tell me who it was.”

“Does that make it better, knowing who it was, mi amore?” His hands touched my body and his mouth found my ear. All of the sexual tension we needed the first night I was here seemed to bloom in the aftermath.

We were both jealous people.

“Yes, I want to know who you choose instead of me.” The words hurt to say but I said them anyway. 

“Not instead of you… because I couldn’t have you.” His voice filled my ear and his friend got off on his floor. “It’s never enough. I always need you.”

I wanted that to matter, to change things but it didn’t. No amount of desire changed him having her.

Forcing him out of the elevator I waited for him to open the door in front of me. His arms snaked around me and his body against my back. Once we were instead I kicked off my shoes and his body rushed me from behind, pushing my hair to one side and covering my neck in kisses. 

“I can’t stop picturing it. In a bed, backstage, in the shower. I can’t stop picturing her or you being hard for her.” I whimpered as my lip quivered and my body ached for him after months of him being gone.

“Tell me what to do. Tell me what fixes this,” he begged me to find a way to let this go. 

“I don’t know, Dom.”

“That’s bullshit. I took your virginity then you pretended to fuck every guy in our high school but I dealt with it. I watched every guy’s hands touch you exactly how you wouldn’t let me.”

“None of that was real, I told you that. I just wanted you to get over me. You deserved better than someone your family took pity on, who was beaten for stupid shit like smiling. None of it was real.” I pleaded with him, fisting the material of his hoodie as he swayed anxiously. He had finally told me everything except who it was and now he was stuck on me wanting revenge when all I wanted was to forget.

“Look pretty fucking real when you were riding Blaine in the hot tub. His fucking hands - all over you. That shit played in my mind for months. Why do you think our football team went to championships? It gave me a reason.” His fists were balled up and his features twisted up in anger. 

[ flashback ]

I knew exactly what he was talking about. I used my then boyfriend, Blaine, to force Dom to hate me. His parents went on vacation leaving us there alone, with his sister and the occasional check from a neighbor. We threw a party with a decent amount but certainly not a rager by any means. 

There were shots and a girl who really liked Dom, Maria. She never did anything to me but every chance she got I watched her flirt with him and it drove me mad. 

Finally, four shots in and my skimpiest bikini I dragged Blaine into the hot tub. My nipples barely covered and my bottoms a thong that showed off my ass. 

He sat down, looking me over in the water steaming when I found Dom laughing in a crowd. I couldn’t tell if he was looking the way I wanted until Blaine’s hands pulled me into his lap. Willingly I straddled him and let his mouth kiss my skin when I untied my bikini top entirely. That was when Dom and I locked eyes and I watched him stand up from his seat like he was going to snap.

Everyone, including Dom, could see my tits that night. Letting my top drop from my hand on the concrete stones outside the hot tub I let Blaine touch me, grope me, toy with me just to piss Dom off. 

Marie was innocent in all our rage when he grabbed her and their mouths collided. That night they became boyfriend-girlfriend for more months than I care to admit. I got what I wanted, to force him to move on, but it felt so cheap. 

Every day we poked the bear, exchanging snarky remarks and insults. We both let the tension turn us mean.

The next morning Dom came into the bathroom while I was brushing my teeth before school when he saw me there in my thong leaning over the sink. “Can you ever wear fucking clothes?”

My boobs were visible in the sheer white top and my nipples were hard just knowing he was looking. “Maybe stop looking, perv. I saw you watching Blaine and I last night.” 

“Pretty sure everyone was watching. Hard not to when you’re acting like a slut in the hot tub.” He shot back.

Jumping up on the shared counter space with our own sinks I slowly pushed my legs apart while making sure I stared at him. “Why do you care? I saw you all over Marie. Not my problem if she doesn’t put out.”

Strutting between my legs I held my breath waiting for the insult in his boxer briefs and plain shirt. “Shut the fuck up. She’s a good girl.”

“And I wasn’t when you fucked me, Dom?”

His mouth was so close to mine I felt every reserve I had dwindle. “You sure as fuck aren’t now, sweetheart. Fucking Blaine in front of everyone? Makes you a slut.”

“And somehow you’re here complaining about me instead of fucking your girlfriend.” Pushing him back I slipped down between him and the counter. Pushing the small strings on either side I worked my panties down my legs, bare from the waist down. Teasing him the way I knew would push every button I put there. “What now, Dom?”

“You’re such a bitch.”

Twisting around I locked eyes on him in the mirror, pushing my ass against his crotch and tempting him into making a mistake with me.

“I don’t fucking share. You know that.” He retorted gruffly, “I don’t want second hand pussy.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, Dom. You’d rather fuck me than your own girlfriend.” Rubbing my ass into his crotch I let myself exhale into a soft moan. The rigidness of his cock pressed up against me and I lost control. I just wanted to torture him for forcing me to watch their making out last night and now I really wanted him.

“I rather fuck a brick wall than have you regret it an hour later. We shouldn’t be together, remember?”

Pivoting I hopped on the counter top again, grabbing his shirt and willing him further between my legs. “Just lie to me, Dom. Nothing compares to us.”

Stiffening up I let my mouth fall open and my knees graze his hips. “I wouldn’t know, I barely remember what we did, Mami.” His hand brushed down my shoulder, over my chest, before walking away. Leaving me there breathless for him. “Next time your have Blaine in my house and you’re topless, I’ll break his fucking face, sweetheart.”

I believed him because all I wanted to do was ruin his relationship with Maria the same way.

#dom mysterio #dom mysterio fanfic #dominik mysterio x reader #wwe fanfiction #fanfic #wwe #monday night raw #dominik mysterio smut #dominik mysterio fanfic #wwe x you #wwe x y/n #wwe x reader #wwe smut #fanfiction

[exopelagic]

I shouldn’t have to do ANYTHING ever again I’m done with doing things I’m retiring

#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #I got one of my two presentations (the important one) to a standard where I can present it. #I just. now have to write a whole other one by Thursday 2pm #I finished the presentation at like 4pm today and I was like oh cool!! I’m done early!! #so I went to the shop and walked home before it got too dark out thinking I could start early on cooking and do some work tonight and sleep #and proceed to spend THREE HOURS making ticking STIR FRY #it was a good fucking stir fry I’ve never had so many compliments on how my cooking smells #it didn’t taste That great but food you make yourself never does :/ #this was meant to be quick meal. I didn’t even have all the normal ingredients like my broccoli went slimy #anyway! am done doing things now no more things I’m done no more things #I was out from like 9:30-4:30 today mostly working and shopping and goddamn #also god mr fucking GUY comes in right before the lecture and sits behind me AGAIN even though today was empty #and I had to hear him talking non stop for 2 hours bc it was kinda a coding class thing #i didn’t turn around much bc he was. right there. but when he was moving around in the break and before leaving he was once again looking. #and I can’t tell if he’s trying to catch my eye or not but he made no fucking effort to talk to me despite being sat Right There this time #so like??? what the fuck am I meant to do with that??? #I don’t have time to make a point of talking to him about This Bullshit so this is just Happening for the foreseeable future huh #god the thing is if I DO try talk to him abt wtf man I wouldn’t put it past him to just blatantly lie abt it #what no I’m not looking at you #subtly ​make out that I’m making things up or I’m not over him #maybe this is being uncharitable again but goddamnit dude what’s UP with you #I’m kinda scared that I AM making things up but. it’s happened kinda a Lot and I know that things are still weird between us #I might ask my friends to keep an eye out just to verify I’m not actually losing my mind #anyway!!! fuck you mr guy I don’t have time for this <3 #I gotta work on presentation 2: electric boogaloo #this time with waaaaaaay more mushrooms #or not I guess bc I don’t think mycorrhizal fungi make mushrooms? t potentially no mushrooms but significantly more fun guys #also obligatory fuck you also to Sinclair et al (2023) you’re so annoying #we all know nitrogen use efficiency is important but maybe other things exist too <3 #luke.txt

[kenntolog]

𝝑𝝔 an: cool bf sukuna catching his loser gf drawing his tattoos on herself!! reblog if you like, read more ab cool bf sukuna x loser gf here!!

“the hell are you doin’?”

you freeze, the black liner falling from your hand as you face sukuna with a disturbed look.

“nothing!”

sukuna’s face scrunches in confusion as he examines the lines on your face and arms.

sharp and narrow marks of black on the sides of your pretty face, a line across your nose and neat symbols on your chin and forehead. there is also an unfinished full black circle on your shoulder, and it doesn’t take much to understand that you were clearly trying to imitate sukuna’s tattoos.

a teasing grin blooms on his face as he approaches you, bending down to pick up the fallen liner and handing it to you, “doesn’t look like nothin’ to me.”

you look nervous, bottom lip stuck between your lips as he examines your work carefully, gaze so intense you can barely return it. sukuna’s expression softens at the precision with which you drew on the lines, exact copies of his and he can’t help but feel a little honoured.

he tucks a fallen strand of hair behind your ear and gently grazes his fingertips over the lines, chuckling to himself.

“i can take you to my tattoo artist if you wanna?” he smirks playfully, taking the black liner from your hand and starting to fill in the half empty circle on your shoulder diligently.

“i was just messin’ around, ‘kuna~” you pout, whining his name in that sickeningly sweet tone he adores. “i really like your tattoos!”

“yeah, i can tell, baby,” he murmurs, moving around to color your other shoulder. “like ‘em so much you draw ‘em better than mine.”

you melt under his attentive eyes, heartbeat speeding up at his praise, and shiver when he kisses the spot between your neck and shoulders. sukuna lives for your reactions, enjoying every second of teasing and prodding until you reach your breaking point(well, sometimes).

“well done,” he throws the liner somewhere, taking out his phone. “now lemme post this so everyone sees how pretty you look marked as mine.”

you can’t help the giggles that escape you at his words, hugging him tight as he ruffles your hair in adoration.

#— miya writes! #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk x reader #cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader

[kyletogaz]

simon wanting you to cum on his cock one more time

cw: penis in vagina sex

“where do you think you’re going?” simon snaps out as he grips your hips to bring you back down on his cock, as you try to run away from the sensation of becoming overstimulated. he’s holding you so damn tight, you’re sure you’ll have bruises later on.

you whine and claw at his chest as you roll your hips. “simon, baby, please!” the delicious drag of his cock in your wet cunt is starting to become too much. you don’t stop though, you’re just as bad as simon is. you just keep rocking your hips as he fucks up into you.

“just give me one more, lovie, please,” simon begs as he flips you onto your back, before pressing his cock back into your dripping hole.

you let out out a soft cry of pleasure with every snap of simon’s hips. nothing pleases your man more than having you cum on his cock as many times as you can.

“i already gave you two, simon,” you whine, sounding a little breathless as you tighten your legs around him. you watch as his blissed out expression morphs into a look that says i really don’t give a fuck.

“don’t care, darling,” simon hisses as he continues to drill into you. he smirks at the wail you let out when he pulls out then slams back in.

“f–fuck!” you choke out, with tears in your eyes, as you hold on for dear life. he’s pounding you into the mattress, pulling sweet noises from that pretty mouth of yours. “you’re such a greedy bastard!”

simon just laughs, sounding mean as hell. he’s fucking you so good, you can’t even be mad at him. the thoughts are slowly leaving your brain anyway. he’s already fucked you stupid twice and he’s aiming for a third time. he doesn’t want to hear anything but your cries as he fucks you into oblivion.

simon coos at you when your tears spill, telling you how beautiful you look with his cock in you. “you gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock again?”

of course you’ll be a good girl. you’re always good for simon when he’s got his cock dragging against your spongy walls.

“yes, i’ll be good. i promise,” you manage to gasp out as simon continues to hit that little bundle of nerves inside your cunt.

“my good fuckin’ girl,” simon croons as he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and rocks into you.

this new angle and pace that simon’s set has you singing as you dig your nails into his back. he brings his lips to yours and kisses you sloppily, his tongue slipping in your mouth as you gasp. you reach up and grip the back of simon’s head when he nips at your jaw then drags his tongue across your skin to soothe the bite. your grip on his hair tightens when a thrust knocks the air from your lungs. when you finally catch your breath you beg him to do it again and again until you’re a crying and shaking mess. simon’s honey brown eyes are watching you as you fall apart under him. he smiles smugly when you start moaning his name. he’s so fucking proud of himself.

“c’mon, c’mon, give it to me,” you hear him say through gritted teeth as he ruts into you. he’s close and he can tell you’re not far behind by the way you clench and flutter around his cock. “c’mon lovie, you promised to be a good girl.”

and then simon’s fingers find your clit and all you can do is wail as he strokes at your sensitive bud. the feeling of his cock slamming in and out of your cunt and him toying with your clit sends you tumbling over the edge. simon fucks you right through your orgasm, and all you can do is whimper, until he’s moaning and his hips are stuttering as he paints the walls of your cunt white with his cum.

-

a/n: this is my first time writing smut y’all 🫠

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x black reader #ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley smut #kyletogazwrites #me to myself: girl wrap this shit up immediately

[kingkaizen]

𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰

∘ desc: toji enjoys filling you up <3

∘ ft: toji

∘ includes: mating press, daddy kink, spitting, choking, size kink, full nelson, creampie

“Don’t run from it.”

Your legs ache, carelessly thrown over Toji’s broad shoulders as he keeps you locked in underneath him. You’re pushing tirelessly against him, hands pushing on his arms to try to move your body away from him. It’s no use as he continues to pound into you, heavy balls slapping against the curve of your ass. 

“It’s too much Toji!” You whine underneath him, large body towering over yours. It feels like he’s splitting you in two, arms caging around you to keep you in place. “So deep..feel you up here.” His eyes follow your hand as you place it on your stomach. You feel his cock twitch inside of you, turned on by the thought of being that far inside.

“You can take it, slut. You asked for this, asked for me to fuck you like this.” Toji sneered, watching the way your eyes rolled back, mouth permanently hung open from your lack of motor control. His lips pursed together, collecting enough saliva in his mouth before spitting it into yours. You swallowed, showing him your clean tongue as he gripped your chin. “See, you can be a good girl when you actually use your brain.” Toji teased, “Go ahead and look at the mess you’re making on me.” 

You could barely even keep your eyes open, let alone tilt your head down. You whimpered in response as he gave you a sharp thrust. “Did you hear what I said or is your brain too occupied with something else?” He wasn’t wrong, all you could think about was how the tip of his cock continuously hit that sweet spot over and over again. How good his pelvis felt rubbing against your throbbing clit every time your bodies met. 

Before your brain could process what was happening, Toji completely pulled out, manhandling your body and placing you with your back against his chest. His arms hooked underneath your knees, large biceps resting against the fat of your thighs. You were completely exposed, his large cock threatening to enter you once again, tip kissing your entrance.

“Tell me what I want to hear, pretty girl.” Toji whispered in your ear, your pussy throbbing with need as he teases you. “If you say it I’ll fill you up again real good.” It turns you on how strong he is, already having you in a full nelson but also lining your warm cunt against his length, juices coating him completely.

“Daddy..please fuck me.” You whine, a gasp leaving your lips next when he finally drops you, stretching you out as much as possible. This angle causes him to feel even deeper inside, your brain completely fogging over as you forget how to even speak. He tilts your head forward, forcing you to watch him move in and out of you in a rough yet consistent rhythm. He groans, watching you cream all over him as a ring forms around his base. 

“Fuck, look at how much you’re creaming for me.” He starts moving even faster, tight balls slapping against you as they begin to tighten up. “Gonna fuck my cum so deep inside. I can’t wait to see how full you look when I’m done with you.” He’s rambling in your ear and you can barely process it all. You feel him begin to twitch inside of you, thrusts becoming more erratic by the second. “Cum inside of me…I want it so bad…wanna be filled up.” You repeat these words, listening to the way Toji’s breathing becomes more and more labored. The knot in your stomach tightens up before you can’t hold it anymore, gushing around his cock. He groans before dumping his cum inside of you, fully pulling yourself down, making you take it all.

Taking some time to catch your breaths, he finally unhooks your legs as you sigh in relief, not realizing how sore they were starting to become. He moves himself from behind you and lingers in front of you, spreading your legs once more. His hungry eyes rake over your entire body before stopping at your core. His cum has already begun to leak out, cunt throbbing as the warm substance pools between your legs. He quickly makes a point to slowly insert two fingers in, making you whine given how sensitive you are in that moment.

“Gotta make sure none of it leaks out or else I might have to fill you up all over again.”

© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader smut

[astraystayyh]

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

i. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  

He’s beautiful. 

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 

“Touché.” 

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?” 

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 

One hour later 

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 

“You made them?” 

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.” 

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 

ii. 

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose. 

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 

Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 

One week later. 

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 

“Will she be okay?” 

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 

“Can I read what you wrote?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?” 

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing. 

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 

You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 

iv. 

You’re avoiding him. 

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 

“Okay!” 

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 

“What happened to connected Chris?” 

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 

you win. 

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later). 

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 

It's her first time calling you mom. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

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