#i’m sick and tired of them (affectionate)

[leclercsbf]

just carlos vying for his boyfriend’s attention.

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club

Pairing: The grid x driver!reader, Lance Stroll x reader

Summary: A wild goose chase ensues when you are at a meeting with your book club

requests are open (plz send some, i can’t keep only getting ideas while driving 🥺) masterlist

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“Guys, have you seen y/n?” Lance panics, rushing into the McLaren garage. It’s not the first time his girlfriend had disappeared from her garage but he’s always been able to find you a few steps away.

“She’s missing?” Lando leaped out of his chair. “Come on, Oscar, we gotta find her,” Lando drags his teammate out of the garage, following Lance to the Mercedes garage to find George.

“Any y/n sightings?” a very stressed out Lance asks.

“No, but now I am invested,” the Brit tags along in the search, hopping over to the Ferrari garage.

“Mes amis, you seem stressed,” Charles says, looking up from his book.

“Y/n is missing, Lance can’t find his girlfriend,” Oscar sighs, not sure why he isn’t leaving the group.

“No, we must join the quest, Charles,” Carlos says, clapping his teammate on the shoulder.

“Alright, only for y/n,” Charles, like oscar, begrudgingly agrees to join the ‘noble quest’.

Meanwhile, y/n is sitting on the couch, wearing a chunky cardigan and a pair of fashion glasses, sipping tea.

“No, Lizzy was clearly in love with Darcy even then,” Fernando waves his hands. This month’s book was Pride and Prejudice.

“Sure, Fernando,” Valtteri rolls his eyes.

The book club, affectionately called ‘The Old Drivers Club’ started when y/n barged into the Haas garage, claiming she needed their opinions and that she was tired of all the young drivers. Despite her being only 21, she found a home with some of the older drivers in the Paddock. The club consisted of her, Fernando, Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. Lewis wanted to hold on to his youth, as he claimed, and Checo didn’t quite care for their gossip sessions.

“I still don’t understand how you can go from a 20 year old party animal to a 80 year old grandma overnight,” Kevin teases the young girl, bringing up a common point of conversation (usually her complaining about the younger drivers).

“And I don’t understand how you all don’t find Nico attractive? If I was ten years older, I would be all over him. God damn, what a fine man,” you swoon, causing the German to blush fiercely.

“Yes, yes, someone who could outshine Charles Leclerc in his prime,” Fernando dismisses it with the wave of his hand. You giggle and refocus on the book discussion.

“Nando,” you prompt him, silently asking him to go to the next topic.

“Alright, alright, let’s discuss what was probably y/n’s favorite scene, the confession scene. The second one, not in the rain,” Fernando says, and you shyly look down, the older drivers knowing you too well.

“Max, Checo, have you seen y/n?” Lance asks, even more flustered, half the grid behind him.

“Y/n? Why do you ask?” Max says, looking at his teammate.

“She’s missing!” Lando exclaims causing Checo to laugh.

“No, no. She’s with her book club, in the Haas motor home. I sometimes join them, interesting gossip, but not quite for me, no,” Checo says, looking oddly at the group.

“Her- her book club?” Lance asks, utterly confused.

“Si. Lewis has been invited too, but he claims he is too young,” Checo laughs to himself.

“Sorry mate, a book club?” George asks, a little offended he was never invited.

“And gossip? I’m a little offended I’ve never been invited,” Pierre gasps.

“Well? Is that all,” Max asks, wanting the group to leave his garage.

“Right, well I guess we go to Haas,” Carlos says, quickly thanking the Red Bull drivers.

“VALTTERI!” Your astonished gasp is heard from outside. Your group had moved on to what some think is the more enjoyable part of the evening, the gossip.

“Y/n! Oh thank god, we were worried sick,” Lando dramatically says at the doorway, having opened the door, revealing your group. The five of you look at the other group wildly confused.

“Worried sick?” You ask, looking at them.

“You were missing, I couldn’t find you,” Lance scratches the back of his neck, a little confused.

“I,” you pause before laughing. “Lancelot, you could’ve texted me,” you tell him.

“Why weren’t Pierre and I invited?” George asks, looking accusingly at your group.

“You don’t fit the criteria,” Kevin says, dismissing the question.

“And y/n does?” Pierre asks.

“Yes. When she sits upside down on your couch to gossip and complain about you all, and ask for life advice, then we might consider it,” Nico shakes his head.

“She is the founder of our group,” Valtteri points out.

“You also have to find young Nico attractive, more than current Charles,” Fernando teases, causing the young girl to blush.

“He was!” You defend yourself, and Carlos nods in agreement.

“Your girlfriend, mate. I’m surprisingly glad I tagged along,” Oscar says to Lance, pretty amused at the chaos.

“Out of curiosity, what is your next book?” George asks, your face lighting up.

“We are on a classics kick right now, so we are reading the No Fear version of Romeo and Juliet,” you say excitedly causing George and Charles to groan.

“We can’t join?” Charles asks again.

“Sorry, Leclerc, only room for one hot driver here,” Nico winks at you, causing your cheeks to redden.

“HEY!” most of the drivers in the room take offense to it, Lance mainly because the wink was directed at his girlfriend.

“Alas, if only you didn’t have a wife and kid, and I was ten years older,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“In another life, Mein Liebchen,” Nico sighs as well.

“Alright, I’m stealing back my girlfriend,” Lance pulls you away.

“Lancelot,” you giggle, waving goodbye to your book club.

“It is in these moments that I remember how young she is and how old we are,” Fernando sighs, Lewis taking your seat.

“My bones ache more and more each day, mate,” Lewis shakes his head.

“Welcome to our club, have the first act read by the next race,”

[ellecdc]

okay then consider this a request!! for poly!marauders or just remus/james/sirius, whatever you prefer, for a reader with excruciating period cramps (self-indulgent because mine are horrible, but whatever!!) if you could do it that would be awesome ily!

ok I'm sorry I really made this very much self indulgent in maybe the worst way ever lol. I've been having a lot of fun with chef!Sirius lately, and had briefly discussed this idea with @maladaptiveescapism a while back so it felt fitting. I've also gotten a lot of period fic requests before and have never been all that interested in them which is so strange seeing as I'm a person who experiences period's and they're really popular? WOW sorry, what a tangent. TL;DR, thanks for your request, sorry if I ruined it a little, I probably won't ever write a period fic again lol

chef!sirius x mixologist!reader who calls in sick to work because of her period [2.9k words]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

CW: period fic, reader has PCOS, brief allusion to Sirius' shitty childhood, trans!Reggie agenda 'cause I can, Sirius worried reader won't be accepting of his trans brother (spoiler alert, we are because we love our trans homies), Sirius being the worst (positive & affectionate)

Sirius was on his best behaviour today.

Honest to god, hand to his heart, best behaviour.

But there was truly only so much one bloke could do when they had a Jeffery to deal with.

“I’m going to need one of your staff for the evening.” Jeffery said without preamble; standing half-in the kitchen with the swinging door to the floor propped open as if he wanted to ensure there were witnesses to this conversation should it go sideways.

“Jeffery, do you wake up every morning and smoke a bunch of crack before you come to work, or are you really just this dense?” Sirius spat as he dropped his pan in front of him and fought the urge to turn and give the floor manager a withering glare. 

Jeffery, well seasoned to Sirius’ theatrics, bit back an eye roll as he carried on. “We need someone to cover the bar.”

Sirius did turn at that, but his withering glare fell somewhere between aghast and bemused. “The bar?”

“The bar.”

“Why?”

“I need coverage for Y/N.” Jeffery explained with a sigh, clearly growing tired of Sirius’ line of questioning.

“Where is she?”

“She has called in sick, chef.”

“Sick with what?” Sirius continued, causing Jeffery’s brows to furrow as he stared at Sirius bemusedly. 

“I’m not exactly privy to those details, chef.” He explained slowly as if Sirius were some fussy toddler. 

“I just find it hard to believe that the same woman who left the hospital after getting her shoulder reset to come work a full eight hour shift would call in sick.”

Jeffery offered him a shoulder shrug (and a concerned look up and down that Sirius pretended he didn’t notice) before pilfering one of the kitchen staff for the evening. 

Sirius would worry about hating Jeffery later; he was more focused on figuring out what the hell was wrong with you and why you weren’t coming to see him to work. 

Sirius had his phone wedged between the side of his face and his shoulder whilst he juggled the many go-bags he had in his hands as he stood awkwardly outside of the door to your flat.

He admittedly knew where you lived only because he had driven you home after numerous closing shifts.

Fortunately, the intercom system in the anteroom of your building gave away your unit number.

Unfortunately, Sirius still had his hands full with the various go-bags.

Fortunately, an elderly lady was coming in at the same time and let Sirius into the building. 

Unfortunately, she insisted on chatting his ear off the whole lift ride up and actually held the door open to continue conversing even after they had arrived at her floor.

Sirius’ saving grace came in the form of the lift alarm buzzing for having kept the door ajar too long, and she was forced to bid him farewell. 

Which brought him here; standing outside of your flat like some kind of stalker as he waited for you to pick up your phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, open your door.”

“Well hello to you too, chef.” You snarked at him again. 

“Yes, yes. I said hey, didn’t I? Open your door.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m standing on the other side of it.” 

There was the sound of a quick exhale and rummaging. “Why?”

“Listen, I’d love to play 20 questions, but do you think you could let me in first?”

You muttered something that sounded an awful lot like a swear before the line ended.

He allowed his phone to slip out of its place and into his awaiting hand when you flung the door open unceremoniously.

Now, Sirius could tell you’d not been expecting any company today; you were in the same clothes you’d likely slept in, your hair was perfectly rumpled from whatever position Sirius had just disturbed you from, and you looked more than a tad embarrassed to see him standing here.

He had sort of hoped you would look like a troll; make this raging flame he carried for you burn a little softer.

But no.

You just had to look ethereal and perfect and lovely and kissable.

Damn woman. 

“What are you doing here?” You finally asked, interrupting the both of you from staring at one another. 

“Helping?”

You made a breathy W sound - as if you were going to ask “what” or “why” but the words died on your lips as you took in Sirius’ many bags. 

“What did you bring?”

“I’ll show you everything if you just let me in.” He muttered as he motioned towards one of your nosey neighbours who had shoved her head out of her door when she first heard Sirius in the hall.

You peered around your doorframe and narrowed your eyes at her before allowing Sirius entry. 

“Finally.” Sirius teased as he moved to place his bags on your kitchen island. 

Sirius had never seen the inside of your flat, but if he had simply stumbled into your space by accident he would have known it was yours immediately. 

There was something so intrinsically you about your space that Sirius immediately felt at home too, even just for having stepped inside. 

“Sorry.” You chuckled somewhat awkwardly; bringing one of your hands to the back of your neck as you considered Sirius and all of his bags. “We’d just been watching some shows.”

Sirius immediately felt his heart fall out of his arse.

We? 

Had he read this completely wrong? Were you seeing someone? Was your home not simply yours, but one that you shared?

He found himself suddenly feeling quite defensive over your flat; it was too lovely, too wonderful, too comfortable for simply just anyone to enjoy.

“We?” He asked suddenly; tone taking on a bit of an edge he didn’t intend or consent to.

You cocked an eyebrow at him and pointed behind you with your thumb; Sirius followed your gesture to a little tabby cat perched on the back of your sofa, tilting its head at the two of you as if it, too, was confused by Sirius’ sudden intonation. 

“You were watching shows with your cat?” He clarified; his voice now breathy in relief. 

“Birdie loves shows.” You countered defensively. 

“You named a cat bird?”

“No.” You argued. “I named my kitten Birdie. Do you not like cats?” You asked then, a teasing smirk growing on your face. 

“I like cats fine; where can I put this?” He asked instead; hoping to god you didn’t notice the blush heating up his face. 

He started unloading the many take-away boxes he’d prepared for you at the restaurant before skiving off the rest of his shift.

“What is this?”

“Food.”

“Sirius, why did you-”

“I asked what helped.” Sirius explained. “You said food; I brought food. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed yet dollface, but food is kind of my thing.”

“Smartass.”

“That too.” He replied with a wink, moving to put the desserts in your fridge. 

“Did you seriously come all the way over here just to bring me food?” You asked disbelievingly as you joined Sirius at the counter and peered into the bags.

Sirius had to tamp down the giddiness that threatened to consume him at how sweet and domestic this felt; you clad in your comfies as you helped him unload groceries. 

“I didn’t come all the way over here just to bring you food…I brought other stuff too.” 

“‘Course you did.” You muttered quietly, looking at Sirius with a look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite decipher.

“Go lay down.” He ordered instead as he went about plating your food - opening cabinets at random until he found what he was looking for. “I don’t hear laying down!” He sing-songed when he saw you still  standing in his periphery. 

You harrumphed before acquiescing; picking up your cat who made a little brrp sound as if to second Sirius’ directions. 

Finally content with his efforts, he moved to stand in front of you with a glass of water and some pasta he brought from work. 

You made an appreciative hum and sat up, which seemed to displease Birdie greatly. “God, maybe I need to find myself a personal chef.”

“Oi! Don’t go replacing me now.” Sirius scolded as he perched himself on your coffee table - perhaps a little casual for being a first time (uninvited) guest in someone’s home - but you didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh the job is so yours chef; you’re welcome here anytime.” You said around a mouthful of food. And even though Sirius knew you were joking, he couldn’t help the giddy fluttering of his heart at the sentiment. 

“This is really good, Sirius, and super thoughtful; thank you.” You offered earnestly. 

“So I guess you don’t have any room for dessert, then?” He asked teasingly; his taunting smirk melting away immediately at the excitement that took over your face before he ran to retrieve it for you. 

“Why is she doing that?” Sirius asked after a while, gesturing towards Birdie with his chin who was rubbing her head against the leg of his pants.

“Why’s she doing what?” You asked bemusedly as Sirius fought every urge to wipe the little bit of chocolate from your upper lip. Unfortunately thankfully for him, you licked it out of his sight. 

“Head butting me; seems quite rude.” Sirius murmured as he watched the cat in bemusement. 

“That’s basically a cat hug, Sirius; she’s hugging you, or saying hello.” You chuckled at him.

“Get out.” He scoffed in disbelief. 

“Cats have little scent markers in their cheeks; when they rub against something, they’re affectionately claiming it as their own.”

“So like a dog pissing on trees?” He deadpanned.

“Affectionately claiming you as their own; offer her your hand, Sirius.”

“But what if she-”

“Chef, offer her your hand.” You barked at him with no heat. 

Sirius narrowed his eyes challengingly at you but did as he was told; pleasantly surprised when the cat moved the rubbing from his trousers to his hand. 

“Have you never met a cat before?” You asked as you considered him.

“No…I have.” Sirius offered slowly, admittedly enjoying the velvety soft fur of your little companion. 

“Could’ve fooled me.” You teased as you placed your now empty dish on the side table. 

“My family had a cat growing up; a horrid thing. I swear to god my mum taught him how to attack me. Loved my brother though, but was nasty as all get out to anyone else.” 

“Really? Was he a stray before he lived with you?”

“Nope.” Sirius offered with a pop of the p. “Raised that fucker from kittenhood. Lived a god awful long time too, just to spite me; I wished every year on my birthday that it would die.”

“Sirius!”

“I’m not joking! My brother and I would sneak cupcakes up to my room and he’d light a candle for me and tell me to make a wish. One of them was always ‘please for the love of god let Kreacher die before me’.” He didn’t think now was the time to admit that his other wish was always ‘please for the love of god let us make it out of here alive’. 

“That’s awful; you’re awful.” You laughed. 

“No, Kreacher was awful; I was but a boy.”

“I can’t believe you got after me for naming my cat Birdie when you had a cat named Kreacher.” 

“I didn’t have a cat named Kreacher, my brother did.” He responded haughtily. 

“Who named him?”

“I did.”

“Why?” You laughed again. 

“‘Cause he was a tiny, awful, hateful little gremlin and needed a name that said as much!” 

The two of you laughed until your hands migrated to your abdomen and you began massaging into your skin; a small divot appearing between your brows.

“What is it?” Sirius asked quietly then.

You tried to shake your head and offered him a tight smile. “S’okay.”

“Is it cramps?”

“Yeah.”

“Lie back.” He instructed as he stood from his seat on the coffee table - his mother would be rolling in her grave if she’d seen him with such a lack of manners.

Good.  

“Sirius, really, you’ve-”

“Lie back.” He whispered again, one hand on your shoulder as he gently guided you so that you were lying along your sofa with your head propped up on the armrest.

Stealing himself for perhaps embarrassing himself completely and making this whole precarious situation between the two of you go tits up, he finally shucked off his jacket and boots before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and lowering himself onto the bottom half of your couch.

You watched silently as Sirius situated himself between your legs so that his shoulders and head rested on your abdomen as he weaselled his arms under your back, placing both of his palms up against your lower back.

“Relax.”

“What?”

“You’re tense as shit, doll; relax.” He murmured as he rested his cheek against your stomach.

You let out a breath and sank further into the couch as the two of you fell into comfortable silence.

“Thank you.” You whispered after a few moments.

“You already thanked me.” He whispered back.

“No, I-” You cut yourself off as you gathered your thoughts; a tentative hand absentmindedly making itself at home in his hair as you found your words. “Thank you.” You settled on.

“You’re welcome.” Sirius offered.

“Where’d you learn this?”

Sirius propped his chin up so he could at you; your hand pausing as your eyes flit to it as if you were only now realising what you’d been doing. “Learn what?”

“The pressure? The body heat. The…helping, with cramps?” You asked tentatively, and if Sirius didn’t know better, he’d think you perhaps looked a touch bashful at your questions - your eyes seemingly incapable of meeting his. 

And once again, Sirius found himself taking another jump, or rather, a complete leap of faith that could very well have this thing the two of you had been building crumble and fall before it even had a chance to start.

“Uhm, it was my brother, actually.” He admitted quietly.

Your eyes did finally meet his at that, where they narrowed a touch in confusion.

“You learned this….from your brother?” 

Sirius nodded as he swallowed nervously. “Right. He uhm, well, it often helped him with his cramps and such, so…yeah.” 

It was apparently his turn to be incapable of meeting your eyes as he moved his head so that it was resting against your stomach again.

“You’re a good brother.” You finally offered.

“Well of course I am.” Sirius offered through a breath of relief. “I’m good at everything I do.” 

“You’re a git.”

“I’m good at that too.”

You gave a disciplinary tug at Sirius’ hair which made him think of several sinful things he’d like to be doing with you whilst you did that next time, but he simply chuckled and sank further into you.

“I didn’t exactly sit like this with him, mind you.”

“No? What does that make me, then?”

“Special.” 

“I guess so.” You breathed out through a chuckle. “Coming over on your day off just to spoil me.”

“It wasn’t my day off.” He responded without thinking, tensing when he felt you suck in a breath.

“Sirius.”

“Mhm?” He offered in faux nonchalance.

“You left work for this!?”

“For you?” He asked as he considered you. “Absolutely.”

“For gods sake, Sirius. I bet Jeffery-” 

But he never got to hear what you thought of Jeffery as he let out a very petulant and dramatic groan and lowered his forehead to your stomach. 

“Babe, I know this isn’t exactly the same thing, but generally a man does not want to hear the name of another bloke when he’s in between your legs, yeah?”

You barked out a laugh and swatted at his shoulder. “You’re awful.”

“Terrible.”

“The worst.”

“Absolutely horrid.”

“Giving Kreacher a run for his money.”

Sirius’ head shot up at that as he levelled you with a warning glare. “Too far.”

“I’m sorry.” You laughed, not sounding particularly sorry at all.

“You better be.” Sirius grumbled as he lowered himself back down. “Now be a doll and play with my hair again; it’s nap time.”

And there was an equal chance that you were going to laugh, swat at him, or downright tell him to get his arse back to work.

But Sirius was admittedly overjoyed when you simply placed your fingers back into his hair and began to massage until you fell asleep; him not much longer after you.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟹𝚔 || 𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐍

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: James becomes a worried mother hen when you faint in Herbology class.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: James Potter x reader

The hospital wing always smelled faintly of antiseptic potions and freshly laundered sheets. You were lying in one of the many crisp, white beds, a blanket pulled up to your chin. A stubborn cough rattled your chest, but you felt far better than when you first arrived. Madam Pomfrey had been quick with a cure, leaving you with a potion for congestion and strict instructions to rest.

James Potter, however, had other plans.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” James tutted, bustling around like a worried mother hen. He had already fluffed your pillows twice in the last fifteen minutes, and now he was pouring you another glass of water, insisting that you sip it slowly.

"James, seriously," you croaked, trying to wave him off, "I'm fine. Madam Pomfrey said the worst is over. I just need some sleep—"

"Sleep?!" he interrupted, turning to you with wide eyes as if you'd just suggested something utterly preposterous. "You can’t just sleep this off, love. You're sick! And you didn’t even tell me you were feeling bad until you practically passed out during Herbology!" He shook his head, muttering under his breath. “You’re impossible.”

You groaned, sinking further into the pillows. “I’m not that sick, James. Honestly.”

But James ignored you entirely, moving on to smoothing out the blankets on the bed, adjusting them just so, then darting back to your side to press a hand to your forehead. He frowned in concern, despite the fact that your fever had already broken.

"Still too warm," he muttered to himself, then in a louder voice added, "Do you need another blanket? What about your potion? Have you taken your potion?"

"Yes!" you replied, exasperated, holding up the empty potion bottle as proof. "I've taken it. I’m fine, really.”

But James wasn’t having any of it. "You should have told me earlier," he scolded softly, eyes narrowing at you in a way that was more affectionate than anything else. "Running around the castle when you're sick, not taking care of yourself. What were you thinking?"

You rolled your eyes, a little grin tugging at your lips despite how tired you felt. “I didn’t want to make a fuss,” you mumbled.

“Well, too bad!” James retorted, crossing his arms over his chest in a very Sirius-like manner, though the anxious gleam in his eyes was entirely his own. “I’m going to fuss whether you like it or not.”

Before you could protest, he was off again, striding toward the door of the hospital wing. “I’ll be back. I’m going to get more of that potion from Madam Pomfrey.”

“James—!” You tried to sit up, but your aching body protested. “She already said you have to leave! She’s going to hex you if you keep pestering her for more potions!”

He shot you a wink over his shoulder. “Let her try.”

True to his word, James disappeared through the door, only to return minutes later with another small vial of potion in his hand. He looked smug, though his hair was even more disheveled than before, a clear sign that Madam Pomfrey had tried to shoo him away more than once.

“She said you have to drink this,” he declared, holding the potion out to you with a flourish. “And then, you rest. Properly.”

“I don’t need it—”

“Drink.”

You sighed but took the vial from his hand, knowing there was no winning when James was like this. You uncorked the potion and took a sip, wrinkling your nose at the taste. James was watching you closely, arms still crossed, but the tenderness in his gaze was undeniable.

Once you’d finished, he set the empty vial aside and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning in to smooth your hair away from your face. “You scared me,” he admitted softly, his earlier bravado slipping away for a moment. “Seeing you like that in class, all pale and weak… I hate it when you’re not feeling well.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “I’m alright now, James. Really. You don’t have to worry so much.”

“Too late,” he said with a crooked smile. “I’m going to worry about you forever, I think. So, you better get used to it.”

You chuckled lightly, though it quickly turned into another coughing fit. James immediately leapt into action, patting your back gently and handing you the glass of water.

“See?” he said, a little too smug for your liking. “This is why I’m fussing.”

You shot him a playful glare, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. As much as you protested, having James dote on you like this wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You leaned back into the pillows once more, exhaustion pulling at your limbs.

James, sensing that you were finally settling, sat down beside you again. This time, he didn’t scold you or rush around. Instead, he took your hand in his, thumb rubbing soft circles over your skin.

“Get some rest,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be right here.”

And despite your earlier protests, you felt your eyes fluttering shut, comforted by the warmth of James beside you. Maybe, just maybe, letting him fuss over you wasn’t so bad after all.

[st4rr-girrl]

Stranger

M.R

Summary; You thought Mattheo was different, but he’s just like everyone else.

Warnings; swearing, mentions of sex, nsfw, underage smoking & drinking, angst. Douchebag Mattheo.

Inspired by Stranger - By Jhene Aiko

I ain’t posted in hella long im sorry if u thought I was dead xox 🥰🥰😘💋💋💋

Pt 2

We at 700+ followers yall!! I love u guys 🥺🥺💋❤️❤️

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

You tried to ignore the familiar feeling you would get each time you were around Mattheo. The stinging that tickled your irises each time you started to view him in a new light, each time you saw everybody else in his features.

Why was this such a common occurrence during the span of your relationship? You and Mattheo never talked, and if you did- it was only in bed. It was exhausting and you couldn't deny that.

He was starting to look more and more like the people who had used you in the past. The ones who discarded your well-being for their own sick pleasure. You stared at him from across the Slytherin table, an inexplainable sadness etched onto your tired features.

Mattheo was the last person you expected to turn out like a copy and paste of your past experiences.

It wasn’t always like this. He used to be lovingly attentive, affectionate and gentle with you.

He noticed your gaze, his brow arching in silent question. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, forcing your eyes off of him. He shrugged dismissively, recentering his attention to the conversation he was in the midst of.

What hurt even more, was the fact that you had told him about the others. Every single one of them that he had promised you he wasn’t like. And you trusted him.

But he lied.

He didn’t care. He never did. And if that information wasn’t crystal clear, you didn’t know what was.

Daphne nudged your side, her brows furrowing in concern as she scanned your melancholic features. “You alright, lovely?” She asked gently.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice quieter and shakier than you had intended— blinking back the tears that threatened to escape your glossy eyes. “I’m okay.”

She gave you an unbelieving look, but decided against being pushy. “Okay, babe. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” She offered a soft smile, her brows furrowing.

“Sure,” you replied, a grateful tone to your voice as you nodded.

She went back to chatting with Pansy, and you found your regretfully longing gaze flickering back to Mattheo. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. Because it did. It hurt so bad.

He wasn’t paying you any mind, blatantly unconcerned despite the sadness he found in your expression. He boasted about something or other to Theo and Blaise— both of the boys watching him verbally show off in amusement. Usually, you would have been fond of the sight. He was an idiot, but he was your idiot. Or— well, he was.

It was routine for you now. This wasn’t your first rodeo— you knew how this worked.

So, the same night— when he laid you down in your dorm room, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. Not that he cared, or anything.

And when he left, you lied in bed— your gaze locked onto the ceiling. You’d lazily thrown a t-shirt and underwear back on— Mattheo nowhere to be seen. He didn’t even have the decency to stay back and make sure you were okay, and help clean you up. Not like he used to, anyways.

The hickeys and bite marks littering your skin were a constant reminder of what once was. Shame engulfed your body, an all too familiar feeling.

You couldn’t control the tears beginning to spill from your eyes, streaming down your cheeks in a rapid manner. You broke down, your body wracking with sobs— burying your face into a pillow to muffle said sobs.

When your roommates walked in, Daphne and Pansy, they immediately saw your state— rushing to your sides and consoling you as you fell apart. They shared a worried glance, knowing exactly what— or in this case, who— caused this.

Over the next few days, you’d been avoiding him. Daphne and Pansy both covered for you, giving Mattheo bullshit and half assed excuses as to why you couldn’t see him.

But, it’s not like he was actively searching for you, anyways.

You thought you were indifferent to this by now. You wanted to be. But you actually trusted him this time, you loved him.

But as you stared at him from across the Potions classroom, watching as he flirted shamelessly with girls who hung onto his every word— you knew you’d never become accustomed to the hurt and pain that followed betrayal.

You knew you had to cut things off, and that’s exactly what you did. You couldn’t allow yourself to mope around aimlessly for any longer.

After class, you pulled him into an empty hallway and went off— cussing him out in an emotion fueled rant. He got what he wanted, and he no longer needed you. He made that very obvious.

He replied with a simple, “okay,” before turning and disappearing down the hallway. You watched as he left, the sound of your heart shattering echoing throughout your own ears.

———-

[meo-on-prairie]

Deserve Better

Prompt: After a shitty breakup, involving a douchebag of an ex, who makes you realize he never loved you to begin with. You went to your best friends for comfort, but instead of telling you “you deserve better”, they show you the best you deserve. 

Word count: 1786

Tags: FLUFF, a tablespoon of Angst, hurt and comfort, Gojo and Getou being sweetest boys, satosugu established, satorugu x reader not yet, mention of: manipulation and love bombing.

Rambling: This is an extremely self-indulgence fic, heavily inspired by my shitty ex lmao. I just wanna be sandwich between Gojo and Getou to comfort my angry heart :((. This is a mini series, I wanna able to make this series to be compose of a bunch of stand-alone fics that merge together. This is my first time writing after a long while so… 

//////

“He was a pathetic liar!” you shout as soon as Suguru opens the door. Tears are streaming down your faces and you can’t seem to make them stop. The sight of your face full of anger and sorrow quite nearly broke Suguru’s heart. Oh, how he wished he could erase your pain. Not make your pain go away, no, he wanted to erase it from your life completely.

Satoru walks toward the door after hearing the loud commotion, “what did he do this time?” he said knowing exactly who was responsible for your tears. With all honesty, Satoru is only asking for your sake, if he could have it his way, violence is always the answer.

Satoru and Suguru are used to this, it’s been 2 years of this clockwork. Ever Since you start dating your pathetic boyfriend, Anthon, it been a cycle of you venting to them about your relationship problem, them telling you to break up with the fucker, and you “work it out” with the douchebag, who can only tell lies and empty promises, the next day and all is good for about 1 month. It’s the same cycle of them clearly seeing that you are being manipulated, yet unable to do anything. But then again, what can they do? They’re only your friends, nothing more even if they want to be more, and as friends, the only thing they can do is be there for you.

Anthon was your first love, your glasses were not tinted, it was dyed rose-pink. You loved him with everything you got, always there to support him mentally, emotionally, and even sometimes financially. In return, he would love-bomb you with constant, nonstop, overly cheesy affectionate words. He also made a lot of promises to you: of marriage, of spoiling you, of being a better man for you, of being faithful to you; all of which are empty and meaningless in hindsight. They’re so meaningless in fact that it led you to break-up with him 2 weeks ago.

You were tired of his empty words, so you laid down your boundary, you told him you would never want to marry someone who refuses to find a job to support themselves. His answer? “Why can’t you be nicer about these things? Your words cut deep”. Anthon was a man of nothing, he had nothing but his words, and even then he couldn't even keep them. But you loved him, so you put it all aside, all his actions, all his shortcomings, his unwillingness to change for himself; you put it all aside and waited with baited breath, surely, surely…. Surely he’ll do as he said. He never did. 

“Come in first, the night is cold, I don’t want you to get sick” Suguru ushers you through the door and into their apartment. As Suguru guided you toward their living room, Satoru went into the kitchen to grab some tissues, water, and something for you to eat your feelings away. 

As soon as your body touched the soft velvet material of their couch, you crumbled into Suguru’s arms. He pulls you in closer to his body as yours shakes and heaves, you two sit like that for what feels like an eternity as you let the tears that carry your pain and sorrows fall from your eyes. Your hands balls up Suguru’s shirt as you cry in his embrace, you try to control your sob but it only makes your body shakes harder, almost hyperventilating.

“Shhhh, take your time, let it out. I’m here… we’re here… we’re not goin’ anywhere”

“He said he loves me! He said he wanted to marry me! And not even 2 weeks after our breakup, he’s getting his dick wet and telling another girl he loves her!” you choked out in anguish, still in denial that any of this is real.

“How did you find out about that?” Satoru asked, carrying a tray full of food; after hearing your sobs, he decided that a few snacks wasn’t going to cut it. 

“Because the fucker doesn’t even have the decency to keep it private, he been posting her all over his social media!” you swipe out your phone in frustration, pulling up Anthon’s account to show your two best friends the picture of your ex and the girl sitting on his lap, kissing. 

They both make a face when you show them the picture, “gross” they said in unison as Satoru places the tray on the table and sits down on your other side.

“I’m just so angry, I can’t believe I wasted 2 years loving someone who never was truthful to me! How can I be so stupid?” your tears are boiling hot, they feel like acid on your skin.

“Hey, hey, look at me, you’re not stupid for simply loving someone.” Satoru cups your face with his hands, nudging you to face him, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. You close your eyes and feel the warmth of his hands. It’s comforting to be held so gently.

“That’s right, don’t shame yourself for being strong enough to love someone with all you got. That’s a strength, not a weakness.” Suguru agrees, pulling a couple of tissues from the box and handing it to you. 

You take the tissues from him to wipe away the tears and blow your nose, it was getting a little hard to breathe from crying, “Thank you… It just hurt realizing that even though I loved him, he never loved me; at least, I don’t think someone who loves me would go out of their way to hurt me like this. Him posting her and rubbing it in my face not even 2 weeks later makes me feel like… I just wasn't worth loving…”

“You’re right, someone that loves you wouldn’t hurt you like he did. But that doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. To us, you’re worth all the love this world has to offer…” Suguru whispers, placing his hand on your shoulder, and he means it. God, does he mean it. Satoru can see it in his partner’s eyes, the same feelings he has.

Satoru and Suguru have loved each other deeply since they were kids, but they always feel something is missing in their relationship. When you walt into their life when they were 15 through the door call “physic group project”, they thought something was wrong with them. They still very clearly love each other, their love is still burning, but their hearts forget how to beat when you smile at them.

How can they not fall for you? You’re kind, so kind you would push aside your shyness and discomfort to help those that need it. You’re intelligent, you quite literally carried them through that physics group project. And dear god, the way you just fit perfectly into their dynamic makes them realize very quickly that they desperately want you to be a part of their life. So desperately, they couldn’t bring themselves to tell you about their feelings in fear of scaring you away from them forever.

“Tell you what? Let’s watch some true crime documentary that you like so much since you’re secretly a sociopath, maybe they’ll give you the inspiration of what to do for revenge?” Satoru said with a smirk.

“If inspiration striked you, we’ll be your executioners.” Suguru added, smiling in relief seeing that you're feeling better after letting it all out. You let out a small giggle and nod. 

Satoru turns on the TV and searches for “Unsolved” while Suguru goes to grab the three of you a blanket. When Suguru comes back with the blanket, you get comfortable cuddling between the two of them on the couch. Between Satoru’s jokes about how if he was the detective case wouldn’t have gone cold, and Suguru’s soft chuckles of ‘sure babe’ at his boyfriend’s comment,you start to feel a lot better. 

You have always felt the most at home with them. It felt natural to be with them, Satoru’s humor brings laughter into your day, Suguru’s gentleness makes you feel safe. They ground you. You’re starting to wonder why you were even with the dirtbag when you have best friends who show you how you should be treated. But before you can think more on that, drowsiness takes over you.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. With how hard you were crying and the emotional turmoil you experienced, it would be more surprising if you stayed awake. Satoru looks over to the sight of your sleeping face. He squeezed Suguru’s hand he been holding behind you on the headrest of the couch.

Suguru looks over at Satoru and notices where his gaze was directed at. “I don’t want to see her like that again. She deserves all the sunshines life has got to offer, not heartbreak” Satoru whispered softly. 

“Do… you think⸻” Suguru started

“Yeah.” 

It’s a silent agreement between them. They’re done with watching you on the sideline. They’re done with seeing you in pain. They don’t want to be afraid of losing you anymore if it means they have to leave your happiness in the hands of some other dudes that’s not them. In the hands of someone that doesn’t know how to cherish it like they do. 

Suguru gives Satoru’s hand 3 long squeezes, I love you. A soft and silent affection flows between them. You always joke that they’re each other's twin flames due to how they seem to be sharing the same soul; their ideology, way of thinking, even how they feel. They’re so similar despite different personalities it’s uncanny. But they think that if they’re each other’s twin flame, then you would be their soulmate. 

They let go of each other's hands so Satoru can carry you into their guest’s room. Well, they call it that but the color and decorations they have in it are all catered to your liking, plus no one beside you ever stays the night anyway. 

Suguru opens the door to the room for Satoru. They laid you down and tucked you in. 

Suguru went into the bathroom to get a damp face towel. He softly wipes away your streaks of tears so you can sleep comfortably without feeling the stickiness from your tears. 

They closed the door as quietly as possible so they don’t wake you, not before glancing at you one last time. 

Looking at each other, eyes full of love and determination, they silently vow to each other. They’re going to make you fall, sweep you right off your feet. They’ll treat you like you’re their most prized treasure. You’ll fall for them so hard, you’ll forget you’ve ever loved anyone but them.

[peachesofteal]

Winter driving, or the ability to drive in hazardous conditions, is a major thing where I live.

People often overestimate their abilities or just lack the skills, proper equipment, and wreck… usually by sliding off the road.

Anyway, this makes me think about you, reader, driving a mountain pass in the dead of winter. The kind of winter where the ice is like glass on the trees, where the windshield of your car makes you feel like you’re in the millennium falcon during a hyperspace jump, where the air is so cold it hurts your chest. During the day it might be nice, the sun could be out, the wind could be warmer, but at night… everything is treacherous.

And maybe you’re not an experienced driver, in the snow. Maybe you don’t have great tires. Maybe you’re driving just a bit too fast, and before you can correct it, you’re spinning out of control, wrecking into a grove of thick trees. The last thing you can feel is the trickle of blood, dripping down your face, and the last thing you see… are the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

When you wake, it’s in a bed. Your head is killing you and your shoulder, upper arm are screaming in agony. But you’re warm, and bundled under a heap of quilts, hot water bottle under blankets by your feet.

What happened? You try to sit up, but can’t, squinting in the light of the morning, and when you try again, putting more effort into curling your spine forward, it hurts so badly that you yelp.

That’s when you see him. A man steps out of the corner of the room, from the edge of your peripheral… and you freeze in terror.

“Shhh. We’re not goin’ hurt ye.” He coos, coming closer and you get a better look at him, handsome, sweet face with an overgrown mohawk and brilliant blue eyes. “Ye had a terrible accident.” He says, ceramic mug from his hand clinking down onto the table next to you. “Pure luck we found ye when we did. Ye might’ve died out there, hen.”

“I-“

“Here. Drink this.” He pours something from a kettle into the mug, lifting it your lips, encouraging you as he tips it back, warm sweet liquid washing down your throat. You can’t even lift your arms to push him away, and when he seems to be satisfied, his thumb wipes at the corner of your mouth. “Good love. Well done.” He murmurs, re tucking the misplaced blankets around your shoulder. You’re feeling woozy all of the sudden, maybe a little sick, and you think you could be hallucinating when another man appears at the foot of the bed, watching you with honeyed brown eyes, the broadest, tallest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Those bones need setting.” The bigger one says to the mohawk one, and he grimaces, trailing fingertips along your cheek.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m still worried about the concussion.”

“It’s been four days, Johnny. Can’t put it off too much longer.” Four days? Your brain latches onto the time. Since when?

“Ah know.” He slumps. “Tomorrow?” He sounds hopeful, and the brown eyed man nods.

You’re starting to fade, listening to them talk, unable to react or even speak when they both press a kiss to your forehead, affectionate and longing touch that confuses you until you’re losing the battle to sleep, not with it enough to hear the click of the padlock.

[hxney-lemcn]

See You Again — Your Fav Twst Guy x gn! reader

summery: you don't realize just how much he loves you

tw: pining (idk)

a/n: uhhhh here you go. Another insert your fav character but twst version.

wc: 0.7k

Master List

You live in my dream state Relocate my fantasy I stay in reality You live in my dream state Anytime I count sheep That’s the only time we make up, make up You exist behind my eyelids, eyelids Now I don’t wanna wake up

As he falls asleep, his mind always seems to slip to you. Going over all the times he saw you and how romantic even the smallest of gestures were to him. Even if you only smiled at him the same as you did with your other friends, when he closed his eyes, he imagined a world where your smile towards him is warmer, softer, more affectionate. Imagine a world where you’d lean in close to him as you laughed at his joke, where you’d rest your head on his shoulder as you stared up at him lovingly. A world where you’d just lean over and give him a kiss-

20/20, 20/20 vision Cupid hit me, Cupid hit me with precision, I Wonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind I said, I said I’m sick of, sick of, sick of, sick of chasing You’re the one that’s always running through my daydreams, I I can only see your face when I close my eyes So…

He watched as you sat with your friends. A warm smile on your face as you watched them squabble. Did you even know what you were doing to him? How he managed to fall so hard for you without you even trying. It was tiring. It felt like all he could do was think about you, your preferences, your likes and dislikes. Perhaps he could try and take you out today? Or were you too busy? It seems like no matter how hard he tries, he’ll always be one step behind you. The only place he can actually reach you is when his eyes slip closed…

Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever? I said I’m ‘bout to go to war And I don’t know if I’ma see you again Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever? I said I’m ‘bout to go to war And I don’t know if I’ma see you again

He wished his dreams were real. To know the taste of your lips, the gentleness of your hold, the warmth of your love. He never wanted to wake up, his dreams leaving him longing once he awoke. Then there was the dread, the fact that you weren’t from here, that you could go back to your world and he’d never see you again. It was a vicious cycle. Daydreaming of you, remembering it wasn’t real, then the dread of never seeing you again leading him to daydream about you once more. 

I said okay, okay, okay, okey-dokey, my infatuation Is translating into another form of what you call it? Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, I ain’t met you, I’ve been looking Stop the waiting ‘fore I stop the chasing, like an alcoholic “You don’t understand me” — What the fuck do you mean? It’s them rose tinted cheeks, yeah, it's them dirt colored eyes Sugar honey iced tea, bumblebee on the scene Yeah I’d give up my bakery to have a peace of your pie

His infatuation had turned into love for you, and it started to feel suffocating, and he wasn’t sure if he should even act on his feelings. It would only make things more confusing for you. Yet he couldn’t help his longing for you, how his love seeped into every action aimed towards you. He hated when you waved him off, not understanding how deep these feelings ran through him. How he found every aspect of you endearing, You were the sweetest person he’s ever met, and you attracted him effortlessly. He’d give everything and anything for a chance to be with you. Please, just give him one chance to show you just how much he loves you.

Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, o— (La la, la la la la, la la) Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, o— (La la, la la la, la la) Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, o— (La la, la la la la, la la La la, la la la la) One more time?

[darylsdelts]

DARYL DIXON HEADCANNONS

(Very) random personal headcannons, how I view Daryl, your opinion may be different.

(mdni, nsfw, 18+)

So socially awkward (obviously)

Will let you use tweezers on his monobrow but only if you swear not to tell a single soul.

He likes to lay his head in your lap and have you gently trace his eyebrows with your finger tips, it makes him so sleepy.

Mostly enjoyed dad rock before the outbreak but would never admit to liking lady gaga.

He’s super uncomfortable with PDA, the most he’ll do in public is rub your shoulders or ruffle your hair. If you kiss him in front of others and they see, it actually kinda upsets him since he would’ve told you he doesn’t like it, he saves that part of himself for only you and only in private.

That being said, in your own home he can be sort of clingy but not in a needy way, more of a “I don’t want you out of my sight” way.

He’s more touchy and affectionate in private, hugs from behind, squeezing your hips.

He knows you well enough that if you sit between his legs on the floor whilst he’s on the couch it means you want your hair played with, and he will do it without you having to ask and won’t stop until you ask him to.

He gets grumpy about the fact that dog always chooses you over him for cuddles on the couch or in bed.

He doesn’t mind having his shirt off in front of you, it’s not his favourite thing but he appreciates that you make no big fuss about it considering you know the reasons why he hasn’t always been comfortable with doing that.

❤️‍🔥Contrary to popular belief, he’s not very dominant at all, he’s either vanilla and will take the lead sometimes but not in a very dominating way or he’s submissive, that’s it.

❤️‍🔥there have been a few times when the word “mommy” has slipped out when he’s super stimulated and kind of out of it.

❤️‍🔥he likes overstimulation.

He’s often the most submissive when he’s had a hard day or he’s tired, and this doesn’t have to mean in a sexual way, he’s just a very soft and gentle man with you and you only.

However, although he’s not a very sexual person in general, a man has his needs.

❤️‍🔥He wants to initiate things but he’s never really sure how and is afraid of making you feel like you have to do anything, sometimes he’ll get hard just by looking at you and he’ll try to cross his legs to hide it but will scoot closer to trace his fingers on your thigh, you understand that him doing that means he’s in the mood.

❤️‍🔥you’re really his first experience of having a partner so he’s learnt everything from you, your first time with him he got so worked up that you didn’t even manage to get him out of his pants before he accidentally finished but you don’t ever bring it up, you know he felt guilty but you assured him it was perfectly okay.

❤️‍🔥that doesn’t happen anymore but the man does tend to get sexually frustrated since the apocalypse doesn’t leave much time for self indulgence, sometimes he’ll come home from a run, straining in his jeans. These are the times when you can tell he’s eager because he gets all messy, hands roaming over your body and he’s so breathless, you tell him you’re gonna take care of him and you do.

❤️‍🔥sometimes Daryl will leave love bites on you, he tries to do it in places people won’t see but sometimes people do see and he tries to play it cool every time when people ask him if he put them there. “Put what where?” “Mind ya damn business” “s’just s bruise”.

One time you told him he was a dilf and he was DISTRAUGHT. “I’m a what?!” “Ain’t a dad, girl!” “The fuck is a daddy kink?”

And no he’s not into the whole daddy kink.

❤️‍🔥he prides himself on how good he is a using his mouth and fingers on you, he once got you off in just over a minute and he’s striving to bear his record. (HAHHAAH)

We all know he’s got daddy issues but his mommy issues are strong.

He likes how maternal you can sometimes be in the relationship, for example if he’s sick or hurt you tend to treat him like he’s younger without even meaning to, he pretends he doesn’t like it but you both know he does.

Daryl used to get panic attacks sometimes before the outbreak, more often when he was younger and in school but he’d sometimes get them randomly when out and about with Merle. Merle was hard minded but he knew how to calm Daryl down and make sure he was alright. Merle was a good brother.

The panic attacks came as a result from all the stress he got from his father and losing his mother as a child and pretty much just not having a stable life.

He rarely got them after the outbreak, in a way the new world was a blessing in disguise for Daryl as he became his own person.

But he’s still get them sometimes, usually there was no particular reason for them but stress and a build up of emotions that he holds in too much. You’ve come to learn that when these happen there’s no telling what he needs, sometimes he needs help calming down and other times he just needs to be left alone.

He doesn’t talk about his feeling with people but he knows that you much prefer to talk things through and you want to know how he’s doing so he tries to tell you when he’s not feeling good but he always waits until he can’t keep it in anymore.

This results in him crying in front of you which he hates but you’re so good at comforting him, he lets you hold him and he hide his face in your shoulder.

He’ll pretend nothing happened once he’s okay.

❤️‍🔥he likes his dick sucked. That’s it. He’s not too vocal during sex, maybe a few grunts but when you suck him off that’s when he whimpers and moans although he’s still quiet. He’s just a quiet guy.

❤️‍🔥his dick twitches when you tease him, you tease him under the table sometimes and it gets him all leaky in his pants and he has to hide the small damp spot when he stand up. He tries to grab your hand to stop you under the table and leans his head in his other hand to cover his mouth a bit to try to keep his breath steady.

❤️‍🔥teasing him under the table is a common occurrence, he loves it, the fact that people are around but can’t see and he has to keep quiet, one time you made him cum at dinner and his eyes got a bit glossy causing Rick to ask if he was okay, he just cleared his throat and grunted out a “yes”.

he talks very fondly of his brother Merle and his mother even if she wasn’t the best, he rarely talks about his father for obvious reasons.

Such a mommas boy.

He calls you “sweetheart” and “Darlin’”

He giggles around you instead of just scoffing.

Lmk if I should do more!! Idk if these are good or not but it’s how I see him❤️❤️

[ju1cyfru1t]

Rise! Donatello and physical touch.

This is very much a rant.

I am SICK and tired of people saying that Rise! Donnie doesn’t like physical touch at all.

If this is your headcanon or projection, sure! I love headcanons and who am I to say you can’t hc whatever you want???

However, it is not canon.

Does he go out of his way for affection like Mikey? No! Is it his favorite thing in the world? Not at all! Have there been times when he didn’t reciprocate physical affection? Sure, but that doesn’t automatically mean he hates it.

Let’s be real. There are many, MANY moments throughout the show (and movie) where Donatello is affectionate with his brothers, dad, and April.

He lets Mikey cling onto him, he always joins in if there’s a group hug, he carries April and Splinter on his back, he lets his brothers put their arms around his shoulder, HE HUGS THEM ALL THE TIME? The list goes on and on. DID YOU SEE HIM DANCE WITH ATOMIC LASS???

DONATELLO CAN BE VULNERABLE. Does he prefer not to be? Absolutely, but he’s not incapable of it. For one really big example; in Ballad of the Rat Man, Donnie clearly expressed his feelings to Splinter about being upset that he thought Splinter lied about wanting to spend time with him. After he realizes how he was making Shelldon feel, he genuinely apologized and made it right. (With the help of Dr.Feelings ofc) I’m not even going to mention the movie for my own well being. Donnie is sarcastic and apathetic at times, but he is also passionate, dramatic, and excitable. He’s not cold and reclusive. (BUT THAT’S ANOTHER DISCUSSION FOR ANOTHER TIME IM GETTING OFF TOPIC)

HIS SMILE HIS SMILE HIS SMILE

MY ONLY LOOOOOOOOOVE 💜

ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT HIM.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[staytheword]

clear skies

clear skies — one shot sequel of falling rain [ masterlist ] 

— bang chan x female reader. also features han jisung, lee know, yeji (itzy), and san (ateez).

— non idol au. friends to lovers. mutual pining, idiots in love, fluff, angst, drinking, explicit language, explicit smut, a lot of discussion around break-ups, closure, healing, etc. smut warnings (spoilers) — oral sex (m receiving), protected sex, some dirty talk, no major warnings.

— word count: 6.8k

— !! please consider reading falling rain before reading this, as it is a direct sequel and I fear it will make much less sense without the first part :') ♡

You and Chan are friends. Maybe a little more than that, after your night together. You find yourself healing, really healing, until your ex makes you question everything.

You knock on the door of apartment 6, nervously biting your lip. A few seconds later, it opens on Jisung. He looks like he just got out of bed although it’s early afternoon, which wouldn’t be surprising considering what you know of his sleeping schedule. 

“Y/N,” he smiles. “We don’t often see you around here. What’s up?” 

You show him the bag you’re holding. 

“Chan told me he was sick. I brought him some stuff.” 

Jisung gives you a long look but he opens the door so you can come in. You enter the apartment, taking a curious look around. You’ve only been here for parties, and nothing looks the same in the dark. In the direct sunlight of the afternoon, and without all the people, it feels like a whole different place. 

“Yeah, he told me he caught a cold,” Jisung says, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “No idea how.” 

“It’s been raining pretty bad these days,” you shrug. 

Jisung nods, still looking at you suspiciously. You do your best not to act differently than you do, hoping your friend isn’t as good at reading you as Chan is. Because you have no idea if Jisung knows about what happened. You haven’t told anyone yet, although you’re planning to spill everything to Yeji soon. You’re not sure how Chan feels about the other night - you’re not sure how you feel about the other night. 

But when he told you he was sick - because of you and the scene you made under the rain - you couldn’t just stay home. You had to make it up to him. So you got him soup from his favorite place, as well as a few snacks. 

“He’s in his room,” Jisung says eventually. 

“Thanks, Ji.”

“Sure. I’ll be here if you need me.” 

He gestures towards the couch, and you give him a smile. As you walk away, you see him hit the controller, and the show on the television starts playing again - although from what you can feel on your back, he’s staring at you. 

You knock on Chan’s door and a tired voice tells you to come in. 

He’s laying on his bed, half sitting up, playing on his Switch. His hair is a mess, and so is his room, but you don’t mind. All you see are his red nose, his chapped lips, the hazy look in his eyes. 

“Oh, Chan,” you sigh, and he chuckles. 

“I look that bad, yeah?”

His nasal voice clearly shows he’s sick, and you pout, closing the door behind you. 

“You didn’t have to come all the way here,” he says.

“I wanted to. I brought you a few things.” 

You sit on the bed next to him, opening the bag and taking out what you know are his favorite snacks, placing them on the desk close by. 

“And also this,” you tell him, removing the bowl of soup. 

As he recognizes the restaurant name on the lid, his eyes light up. One of his favorites. 

“Ohh. Ohhh.” 

“Thought that might make you feel better. Eat, while it’s still warm.” 

He giggles excitedly, his Switch abandoned next to him, and he sits upright, carefully taking the bowl in his hands. You just watch him as he takes his first spoonful, closing his eyes to savor the taste. 

“I think I’m cured,” he says with a laugh.

You smile affectionately, relieved to see he’s not too sick to eat. As your eyes linger on his face, you realize you can’t really stay. You have no reason to, after all. You look down at your hands. 

“Ji was highly suspicious of my visit,” you tell Chan. 

He frowns. “What did he say?” 

“Nothing,” you sigh. “But it was obvious.” 

“Well…” Chan swallows. “I didn’t tell him, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

You nod, but you’re not sure what to answer. You don’t know if you’re happy about that or not. 

“I’ve been too sick, didn’t feel right,” he explains, keeping his eyes on you. Despite their glassiness, you read them well. “Should I have?” 

“No,” you answer. “I mean - not if you didn’t want to. Of course not.” 

“Did you tell anyone?”

“No,” you say, looking up at him. “I want to tell Yeji, though. Is that okay?” 

He smiles. 

“Of course. I don’t want you to feel like it has to be a secret.” 

You sigh in relief. “I agree. It’s just… Some might not understand.” 

“We don’t have to tell everyone,” Chan shrugs. “We’re still friends, right? That doesn’t change.” 

You blink. 

Just you and me.

Just you and me tonight. 

“We are,” you smile, and you believe it. 

That night, Chan made you feel seen like you never had before. A part of you wonders if it means you have fallen in love. But as you sit next to him, looking at him eating his soup so excitedly, you realize it’s not. What you shared is special - and you told each other things that did matter, and that did change your relationship. But you are still yourselves. You don’t want to bury yourself in doubt. Not now. There are still things you need to figure out about yourself and what you want. 

You need to find yourself first so you can honor him. 

So you can love him like he should be loved. 

Maybe Chan can fall in love with you.

Maybe you can fall in love with him. 

For now, you are friends. 

A little more than that. 

But it’s still enough.

“So, yeah. We had sex.” 

Yeji gasps, putting a hand over her mouth. Despite the gesture, she does not seem that surprised, and you arch an eyebrow at her. 

“I mean -” she stammers. “It’s not that I’m not surprised, I’m just - well -” 

You let out a chuckle. “C’mon, spit it out.” 

She sighs. “I guess I just expected it to happen some day.” 

You take your mug in your hand, lifting it to your lips. The cafe is quiet tonight - it’s a weeknight, so the only people there are students catching up on studying and people talking casually. You adore this place - it’s close to your apartment, the coffee is good, and it’s never too busy. Yeji and you regularly meet up there for a pastry or a latte, as you are tonight. 

“So you knew, huh?” 

“Knew what?” 

“That he had a crush on me.” 

She shakes her head as you take a sip from your latte. Her hair is tied into a long braid today, and although she looks tired from work, she still manages to look breathtaking. That’s just Yeji. 

“No. I didn’t - not for sure,” she smiles. “I just had a feeling. Neither of you are really good at hiding how you feel.” 

You sigh, putting down the mug. “I guess you’re right about that.” 

She gives you a sweet smile. 

“So how was it?” 

“The sex?” When she nods, your smile can’t help but widen. “It was good. Really good.” 

“Really good, huh?” she giggles.

“Really good.” 

You keep laughing, and you indulge her when she asks for details. You have nothing to hide, anyway - you know you need to open yourself up to people, and with Yeji it’s always been easy and mutual. That’s something you learned, sometimes at a bitter cost. It’s all right to give to people, as long as they do the same. Throwing pieces of you into the void - that’s how you lose yourself. 

“I’m so glad, Y/N,” she says, putting her hand on yours. “You look good.” 

“I feel a little better. And it’s not even just Chan, you know. I think… In a way, I think I’m relieved, actually. About San.” 

Yeji gives you the time to measure the words on your tongue. You think about your ex, the one who loved you, the one who hurt you, and all the things in between.

“He has someone. He’s moved on. I can too. To see him heal - it helps me.” 

You’re not even lying. 

It’s not that everything is perfect again - of course it isn’t. But you’re putting the pieces of yourself back together, slowly. Learning to love again - yourself and others. 

It’s been about a week since Chan spent the night at your place. Since then, you’ve seen each other a few times, sometimes just the two of you, sometimes with others. When he recovered from his cold you went for brunch. To see a movie. You spent a night at the boys’ apartment to play board games. 

You haven’t slept together again. A part of you wants to, but you’re not interested in forcing it. The only time you almost did was back at his place, but Jisung and Minho had both been there, yelling nonsense in the living room. Not the most romantic background music. So you just held each other tight, exchanged a few kisses. Chan played with your hair. You put your hand on his chest to feel him breathe. 

You and Yeji talk some more, and then you decide to head back home, as you’re both working early the next day. After a hug, you give her a smile. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow night? At the party?” 

She gives you a surprised look. “You’re coming?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Honey…” She frowns. “You know San and his girlfriend will be there, right?” 

You nod. 

“I know. That’s all right.” 

She smiles, puts a hand against your cheek. “Healing looks good on you.” 

It’s one of the kindest things anyone has ever told you.

Healing is a complicated thing. 

Healing takes time, and healing is never a straight line. 

One moment you’ll feel you can take anything, and the next the ground shifts from under you and you collapse. 

You thought you’d be strong enough. 

You’re not. 

“I miss you,” San says, not even able to look at you. “I know it’s a shitty thing to say, I know I’ve been a dick, but… it’s the truth.” 

You did not expect this. 

You did not expect this at all.

You thought San was over you. But now, here he is, looking tired and anxious, telling you he’s broken up with his girlfriend because something didn’t feel right. Because he missed something. You. 

“I…” you stammer. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he breathes out. He’s tipsy, you know him well enough for that. His body sways a little as he shrugs. “I just wanted you to know.” 

“O-okay.” 

And just like that, like he hasn’t just dropped a rock in your throat, like he hasn’t just set off a bomb in your chest, he walks away. You stare at the back of his head, your fingers squeezing the bottle of beer in your hand. You’re glad it’s made of thicker glass, that it won’t crush under the pressure. Still, it feels brittle. 

You arrived at the party more than an hour ago, and you’ve been having a good time. You played a drinking game of cards, danced with Jeongin and Lily, flirted with Chan. The two of you are not together - but you’re not not together either. The night was going so well you barely noticed that San was not accompanied like he was supposed to be. He avoided you up until minutes ago, asking you if he could talk. Now you stand in the backyard, looking up at the night sky and wondering how your legs will be able to carry you home. 

You wish it would start raining. That would make more sense than the tears on your cheeks. 

You frown, shaking your head. You’ve been doing so well. Your heart was repairing itself, helped by Chan’s smile, by the strength you found in yourself through his eyes. After so much time in a relationship, you are actually enjoying some time on your own, even if a part of you belongs to Chan. He’s respecting the distance you need, never too close but never far. You like Chan. A lot. 

San misses you. 

You miss him too. 

Do you want him back? 

It would be so simple to fall back into it. Like letting your body float in safe waters, the current sweeping you away. Easing back into the comfort you had built together. But you can’t. You don’t love San anymore. He doesn’t love you anymore either. He’s just confused. He’s processing things in a different order from you. 

Right? 

Still, it would be so easy. 

“Y/N?” 

You turn around at the sound of Chan’s voice. It feels like a familiar song in the middle of a cacophony. He brings you back to that night, your limbs entangled on the couch, his chest moving up and down as he slept next to you. Being with Chan feels easy too, but it is more than that - it feels right. 

It also feels terrifying.

“Are you crying?” he frowns. 

You shake your head. “A little. It’s okay. It’s nothing bad.” 

“I just saw San walk away,” Chan says tensely. 

You can feel him getting angry, so you put a hand on his arm, trying to gather the right words. 

Chan sighs. “What did he say to you?” 

“Chan, please,” you breathe out. “Calm down.” 

“I just don’t want him to hurt you again -” 

“He misses me,” you interrupt him, meeting his gaze. Chan stops and looks at you. You can’t quite read his expression. “That’s what he told me. That he missed me. He broke up with the girl because of it.” 

Chan pushes his fingers against his temple. “That fucking asshole…” 

“Chan -” 

“No, Y/N.” It’s his time to interrupt you and you freeze on the spot. “I know what you will say, but that still doesn’t make it okay. He shouldn’t put this burden on you. Whatever his process is, it’s not fair to pull you in and out of it like he is.” 

Your mouth is dry. “I…” You don't even know what you want to say. 

“Please,” Chan says, taking your hand in his. The warmth it spreads on your fingers makes you realize how cold you are. “Don’t let him in.” 

His eyes are dark oceans you want to fall into. He looks so handsome, with his hair dancing in the breeze, his sharp jaw that you want to kiss. Those lips that were everywhere on you that night. Those fingers that held you tight. 

The pang of longing that passes through you makes you dizzy and you take a step back, removing your hand from his. You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. This is a lot. This is too much. Your lungs burn and your heart is being torn apart.

What you want. What you need. What you can’t help but miss. 

“Y/N?” Chan asks so delicately it feels like a caress. 

You shake your head, holding a palm up, not even able to look at him. “I- I’m sorry. This is just a lot. I… I need to think, I…”  

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he says. “I’ll give you space. Do you want me to get Yeji, or anyone else?” 

You nod. “Yeji’s good.” 

“Ok. Ok. Stay there.” 

You let Chan walk away, and once you can’t hear his footsteps, you let your knees buckle. You collapse on the grass, bringing your legs against your body, the bottle of beer hanging pathetically from your fingers. 

You don’t know anything anymore. 

You’re mad. Sad. Confused. Torn. 

You look up at the sky, empty of clouds. There’s just nothingness there.

Why can’t it rain for once?

It’s been a few days since the party. Or you think it has. Time has been tricky, lately, twisting and turning in ways you didn’t expect it too. Days feel like seconds. Hours feel like weeks. 

Your head is laying on Yeji’s lap. She’s braiding it, the both of you watching your favorite show. You’ve seen these episodes a dozen times but you don’t care. It’s just so there’s noise instead of the deafening silence. Something to look at instead of the abysmal nothingness. Yeji made you sure you ate something. 

You’re going backwards.

A descent.

A regression.

Yeji calls it a bump in the road, but it doesn’t feel like a bump. It feels like a black hole sucking you in, tearing you apart at the seams. 

Chan is on your mind. His kindness, his eyes that understand you better than anyone does. San is on your mind. His comforting arms, his familiarity. You don’t know what to do. You feel stuck. You want to listen to your heart, but it has remained silent, like it wants you to make the decision. 

For now you have shut yourself off. You don’t answer anyone, except for Yeji. But then again, she forced the lock, sat you down and said, cry. Scream. Punch someone. I don’t care, but do something. You did all of those things. You cried, you screamed, and, well - you punched your pillow. 

Everything felt right. Now everything feels blurry. 

It was so hard to get yourself back on track, and now that you’ve derailed, you feel worse than before. It’s so stupid, too. They’re just boys. 

That’s what Yeji told you - and she’s terribly right. You can’t allow yourself to feel like this for boys. And yet you can’t shake the lethargy. So you decide to give yourself the time. Figure things out.

You owe it to the both of them.

Chan. San. 

Whatever the truth is, they deserve it. 

Yeji’s phone vibrates on the table in front of you and you sit up to let her answer it. Your eyes unconsciously fall on the screen, and you see Chan’s name. Your chest tightens and you look away. Yeji squeezes your hand.

“What’s up, Chan?” she answers. 

You can discern his voice, not what he says, and you try not to stare. Instead you grab the mug of tea you’ve barely touched and take a sip. It’s lukewarm. 

“I’m good,” Yeji says. “Just watching tv.” She pauses. “Y/N?” 

Your heart drops at the bottom of your stomach and you look up at your friend. You shake your head. 

“Yeah, she’s here,” Yeji continues. “But she’s asleep.” You smile faintly at her as a thank you. “Yeah, I’ll tell her you called. Okay. See you soon.” 

She hangs up, putting down the phone, and you wince. “Sorry you had to lie because of me.” 

“That’s okay, honey. I just…” She hesitates, but you nod, encouraging her to speak her mind. You need her to. “You know you can talk to Chan, right? He’s your friend, first and foremost. Whatever happened between you, whatever the feelings… He’ll listen. He cares.”

“I know,” you say faintly, playing with the blanket on your knees. “I just don’t even know what I would say. And if I see him… I’ll just get more confused.” 

Because Chan is a dream guy - handsome and kind, with the cutest smile. Because Chan will remind you of what happened that night, of the way he held you, of the way he made you shiver. 

Yeji smiles softly. “I understand. I just wanted to remind you.” 

“Thank you. I’ll try to text him later. I have to answer San, too, he messaged me like two days ago…” 

A sudden surge of anxiety overtakes you, and you breathe out. Yeji puts a hand on your leg. “Breathe, Y/N. One thing at a time.” 

“A part of me just wants to say, fuck it, I’m just going to be single, you know?” you chuckle, feeling the tears at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t need anyone. I’ll give myself time to heal. But when I tell myself that, then… I feel so empty. Like I’m making a terrible mistake.” 

You shrug. 

“The worst part is, I already know what I want,” you whisper. Chan. Chan. Chan. “But the past won’t let me go.” 

“The past doesn’t control you,” Yeji breathes, giving you a smile. “You control what hold it has on you. You have to let it go.” 

You wipe the tears from your eyes. “But what if letting San go is a mistake?”

“I think you already know the answer to that question,” Yeji tells you. “Missing someone doesn’t mean you still love them, or that you’re right for each other. It just means you care. It just means what you had was real - and moving on from it doesn’t take that away.” 

You breathe in slowly, giving your friend a tight hug. 

The skies will clear. 

And even if they don’t, the rain really isn’t that bad. 

Rain is cold, rain is heavy. But rain is a thing of beauty.

You hear the door close behind you and you pause. The relief is spreading through your body. The knots, untangled. The wounds, soothed. This will scar - but it will heal. It already is. 

A part of you can’t help it - you turn around to glance at the closed door. Apartment 2B. You spent so much time there, loving San, being loved by him. It felt right to return there to have the conversation you needed to have. Both of you, sober, calm, ready. I miss you too, you told him. But we don’t love each other anymore, and we have to let each other go. 

I know, San nodded. Or I’ll learn to know. He smiled then. You were always the strongest of us. 

You’re not sure it’s true, but you’ll accept it. Strength is something you have, strength is something you grow. It’s not constant. It’s not even logical. Even strength can break. Even strength can be weak. 

You leave the apartment building. Poetically, the rain from earlier has ceased. It still hangs in the air, hazy, leaving the streets wet. As you walk, you watch droplets fall from the tree leaves, distorted visions of the city and sky in puddles. Your umbrella is useless in your hand, still dripping from earlier. You spin it a little in your hands, making the water trapped in it dance. 

You know exactly what you will do next. 

Your next destination is not exactly close but you enjoy the long walk. The sky has gotten dark, your cheeks are a little red, and your heart is spinning. But you know this is what you have to do. You know it’s what you want to do. 

Once again, it’s Jisung that answers the door. When he sees you, he smiles playfully. 

“You’re around here a lot these days, Y/N. I wonder why.” 

You shake your head with an amused smile, refusing to encourage him. “And you’re too curious for your own good, Han Jisung. Is -” 

“Chan here?” he finishes, his grin widening. “Come in.” 

You nudge him by the elbow as he closes the door behind you, following him to the living room. You find Chan there with Minho, holding controllers, the coffee table covered in beer bottles and snacks. Jisung sits back down, pushing Chan’s hoodie back to reveal a chaos of brown curls. 

“It’s for you, lover boy.” 

Minho gives you a wave as he drinks a sip of beer, his eyes not leaving the television screen. Chan, however, looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” 

You fidget a little, pulling on the sleeves of your jacket. “I wanted to talk to you. Do you have time?” 

“Y-yeah, of course…” Chan answers. He puts down the controller, standing up to meet you. Behind him, Jisung follows your conversation, not trying to be subtle in the slightest. “Is everything okay?” Chan adds in a whisper. 

You nod and smile reassuringly. “Yeah. Do you want to take a walk, maybe?” You are a bit tired from walking all the way here, but you’re not sure you want to do this inside. 

“Isn’t it raining?” Chan frowns. 

“It’s stopped,” you say, and Chan smiles. 

“Let me get my shoes.” 

You tell him to take his time, but Chan only heads towards the door and slips on his sneakers. You wave at Jisung and Minho, who you realize are now both staring at you suspiciously. 

“Ignore them,” Chan chuckles, putting a hand on your shoulder to guide you outside the door. 

The wind has picked up a little but it’s still not cold. You keep your hands in the pockets of your jacket, walking alongside Chan, who looks up at the now pitch black sky. There’s not much to see up there except the deep darkness - but perhaps Chan sees something you don’t. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

You walk for a minute or two, heading away from the busy street into a nearby residential neighborhood. It’s packed with huge houses, large lawns, neatly kept trees looming over your heads. Once in a while you feel a drop of rain fall on your head or your shoulders, but you don’t mind. 

“I’m just coming back from San’s,” you tell Chan, breaking the silence. You know he was waiting for you to speak first - giving you the time to find your words. 

He glances at you, looking concerned. “Oh?” 

“I felt we needed to have a conversation,” you nod. “I did a lot of thinking since the party and I just wanted him to know how I felt.” 

Chan breathes out. “How did it go?” 

“Good,” you smile. “I told him I missed him too.” You give Chan a look, but he’s staring ahead of him, lips closed, his hands behind his back. “But that it is over between him and me.”

Chan looks at you then. Is that pride in his eyes? 

“I didn’t mean to push you away,” you breathe. “That night at the party. And recently, not answering your calls. I just… I really needed to think.” 

“I know, love,” he says. The nickname tugs at your heart. You can’t ever get tired of hearing him call you that. “I never held it against you.” 

“And then I didn’t really talk to you, and -” 

“You needed to figure things out,” Chan softly interrupts. “You don’t have to apologize for that. You shouldn’t, even.” 

“But still. Things were good between us, and I’m scared I ruined everything,” you finally admit with a shrug, looking down at your feet.

Chan stops, taking you gently by the arm so you face him. He’s smiling, full lips curved upwards, his black clothes looking so cozy you wish you could cuddle up against him. 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he frowns. “I mean, I don’t want to assume that there was anything between us, or that you have to -” 

“I like you.” It’s your turn to interrupt him. “I like you a lot, Chan.” 

He looks at you, and you let yourself get lost in his eyes. 

“You make me feel safe, and I have fun with you, and you get me. And if it’s something you want too, then I’d like to see where this could get us.” 

It feels good to let it off your chest - but it’s also much easier than you would have thought. You really mean it, you realize. Every word. Exploring a future with Chan is something you want, something your heart feels at peace about. 

You realize he still hasn’t spoken - but you’re not defeated by it. You just keep looking at him, smiling gently. 

“Please don’t feel like you have to answer now,” you whisper. 

He shakes his head and speaks in a whisper. “I’m just taking it in.” 

“What?” 

“You, telling me you like me back.” 

You blink in slight disbelief, letting out a laugh. You push your index against his chest. “You’re such a romantic, Bang Chan.” 

“Yeah, I am,” he laughs wholeheartedly, bringing you into his arms. You settle your cheek against his chest, your arms around him. He places a kiss on your hair, nodding to himself. “You better get used to it.” 

You stay like this for a minute, just breathing each other in, the wind swaying around you. You’re in Chan’s arms. He breathes alongside you. Your heart feels calm. Your heart feels free. 

“You know what I feel about you. It hasn’t changed. So can I take you on a real date now?” he asks, his fingers sliding in your hair, sending shivers through your entire body. 

You nod. “On one condition.” 

He leans back, finding your eyes. “Hm?” 

“Kiss me,” you breathe. 

He just grins, light shining in his eyes. His lips meet yours, delicately and lovingly, as if he wants to savor every second. You can believe it, because it’s the same for you. It’s a slow kiss, the kind that lasts for a lifetime, the kind you can’t ever forget. He tastes like trust, like the softest light, like rain that falls exactly at the right time.

You kiss for a long time, until your lips feel swollen, until your mouth is dry. Chan pushes his forehead against yours, stroking your cheek.

“How about we go home and get you warm?” 

You look up at him, your eyes twinkling in adoration. “Will you keep holding me?” 

He smiles. “I’ll never let go.”

Chan and you find the front door locked. He unlocks it, stepping inside an empty apartment. The bottles and snacks are still on the table, but the television is turned off and Jisung and Minho are nowhere to be seen. 

You remove your shoes, following Chan in the kitchen, where you find a note scribbled onto an old take out receipt. Out for drinks. Enjoy the empty apartment. 

Chan chuckles. “I guess they know.” 

You smile, wrapping your arms around Chan from behind. “I think Ji’s had his suspicions since I brought you soup.” 

“That was good soup.” 

He turns around, placing his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. Your hips almost meet his, making you feel a little dizzy. You place your palms against his chest, resisting the urge to slide them under his hoodie to feel his skin. 

“So…” you smile. 

“So,” he repeats with a chuckle. “What do you want to do?”  

You bite your lip, blushing slightly. 

“You want to… enjoy the empty apartment?” Chan suggests. You like his confidence, although you notice that his ears are bright red. 

You nod, stealing him a kiss. “I just want you.” 

He hums against your lips, his fingers digging into your skin. You take another step forward, decidedly pushing your hips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Chan tilts his head, his mouth seeking yours, and you can feel him parting your lips slowly. He doesn’t want to insist, but you let him, your tongue meeting his. Instinctively you arch your back, your fingers brushing the back of his neck. 

“I’ve been craving you so much,” Chan whispers. “I just want to feel you around me again.” 

You clench at his words, letting out a small moan that gets lost in his mouth. “Fuck, Chan…” 

“I want to make you feel good,” he breathes, kissing you again, and you can feel his length harden against your stomach. “Will you let me, love?” 

“Please touch me, Chan, I missed you so much…”

Just like that, he picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He starts to walk, never ceasing to kiss you, as he brings you to his bedroom. Once you’re there, he pushes the door closed, and lays you down carefully on the mattress. He’s warm, his muscular thighs pushing yours apart so he can settle between them. Leaning down to kiss you again, your head falling against the pillow, he grinds his crotch against you - and you can feel your walls throb. 

There are too many layers of clothing to your liking, so you tug at his hoodie and Chan understands the signal. He removes it and his t-shirt in one movement, letting you touch his chest freely. His jeans hang low on his waist, so you trace his abdominal muscles, let your fingers wander on his back. 

Your clothes are next, Chan kissing you all the while he removes them. Soon you are naked under him, one of Chan’s hands holding your breasts, brushing the back of his thumb on the nipple. You shudder, Chan leaning down to swirl his tongue around it, sending waves of pleasure through you.

But there’s something you want. Something that you’ve wanted to do, something you’ve been thinking about. “Chan -” 

“Yes, love?” he whispers, coming back to kiss your neck, his tongue leaving wet trails on your skin. 

“I want to taste you,” you breathe, and he looks up to meet your eyes. You stroke his hair, feeling a little shy. “Please, I can’t stop thinking about it…” 

Chan closes his eyes. “Fuck, I almost came just hearing you say that.” 

You both chuckle, sharing a feverish kiss. You sit up, moving positions so that Chan is the one laying down under you. His eyes are darker than ever, his lips swollen from the kissing. You can’t get enough of him, feeling almost drunk as you leave a trail of kisses down his chest, unbuttoning his shorts and lowering them. His cock bounces free, already hard, but you remove his clothes completely before you come back to take it in your hand. Chan sits up a little, leaning against his pillows, and he’s able to look at you. Gently, you palm his length, moving your hand up and down. Your thumb rolls around his tip, spreading the pre-cum there, and Chan grunts at your gesture. 

His fingers hold your hair back, his eyes never leaving your face as you slowly jerk him off, loving the way his cock pulsates around your fingers. In fact you are clenching around nothing, aching for pressure. But for now you want to take care of him - you want to show him just how much he means to you, how eager you are for him. 

You flick your tongue at the tip of his cock and Chan lets out a low groan, pushing his head back into the pillows. You smile softly, wrapping your lips around him, his moans dancing to your ears as you start to bob your head up and down. You suck him slow, teasing him with your tongue at the same time, attentive to the sounds he makes. Sometimes he twitches a little, or his fingers will slightly pull at your hair, and you know you’re doing something good. 

Your fingers leave his base when you try to take him as deep as you can in your mouth, feeling your lips stretch, saliva and pre-cum coating his cock. 

“F-fuck - Y/N - fuck, that feels good…” 

A single hum escapes your lips, but you do not stop blowing him, perhaps taking too much pleasure at feeling him lose composure. His hips buck, and you do not stop. You join the movement of your hand twisting around his base with your mouth, and Chan’s grip on your hair tightens.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck - ah, don’t - ah, Y/N, stop,” he whimpers, and you move your head back, looking up at him with wide eyes. Chan takes a second to breathe out, and you feel his cock throbbing in your hand. “I’m going to come if you keep going,” he chuckles. “I want this to last.” 

You smile, crawling back up on the bed for a kiss, straddling him. “Was it good?” 

“So good, love,” he grins, kissing you. “So, so good.” 

You settle your drenched core against his cock, rubbing it up and down the length, moaning in response. 

“You’re so wet,” he whispers against your ear, licking it gently. You whimper, desperate for touch. “Can I fuck you now, love?” 

“Yes, please,” you moan. 

Chan is quick to grab a condom from his bedside table, wrapping it around his length before he guides it against your entrance. Slowly, you push yourself down, his cock stretching you. You close your eyes at the feeling, the pleasure making you dizzy. Chan pulls your upper body closer to his, playing with your breasts as he starts to thrusts his pelvis, entering you deeper each time. You roll your hips, finding a rhythm quickly. 

It feels so good to have him close, so good to let yourself go. Your heavy breathing mixes with his, touching his chest as he fucks you, and you’re both lost in the moment, not exchanging a word. He enters you deeply, his thrusts both gentle and passionate. It is not quick, but steady, every movement measured. 

You fuck like that for a while, just breathing and moving with each other, until your pleasure starts to ramp up. You are clenching around Chan, who grunts in your ear, and he holds your waist, anchoring himself there to accelerate his thrusts. He’s fucking you harder, and you cry out his name as you come. He follows you quickly in his release, breathing your name, making you feel whole like only he can. 

Both you and Chan breathe out, bodies slightly swaying like in a storm, holding each other tight. His arms around you, your fingers on his skin. 

Lifelines. 

After a little while he kisses your neck, your cheek, your lips. You sigh because you don’t want to move, although you know you have to. 

“My love,” he whispers. “How about a shower and some food, just the two of us?” 

You smile, leaning back to kiss his nose. “Just you and me?” 

He nods. “Just you and me.” 

That’s all you need.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let the taste linger on your tongue. Just enough sweetness, hints of bitterness, the perfect balance. You’ve never eaten something that good, you’re almost sure of it. Chan, who is sitting in front of you, lets out a chuckle.

“That good, huh?” 

You let out a soft moan. “Best ice cream I’ve ever tasted.” 

Chan grins. “I know something that tastes better.” 

You push his leg under the table playfully and he chuckles, shaking his head, both embarrassed and amused by his dirty joke. You can’t stop looking at him. He looks so handsome in his fitted black shirt, just one button undone, a slim silver chain around his neck. When he showed up at your door wearing that, fitted black trousers and leather shoes, you almost pulled him into your apartment and abandoned the idea of going to the restaurant. But Chan had also been holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, his eyes sparkling with joy, and that made your heart dance in different ways. 

“Pardon my French, but you look fucking gorgeous,” he had said, leaning in for a kiss. 

You had hugged him, giggling like a teenager as he left a trail of kisses down your neck, his other hand touching the fabric of your black dress, exploring the way it hugged your body. You had to push him away and take the flowers from him - if you let yourself go against his embrace you knew you would never make it to the restaurant on time. 

Chan had made a reservation at a fancy place, not at all your usual style, but he had once gone with family and had loved the food, so he wanted you to taste it too. 

When you leave the restaurant, your belly is full, your heart content, your soul even more. You stop when you cross the door, however. While you were inside it started to rain. It’s not a drizzle - it’s heavy, cold rain, falling down straight and hard on the ground. 

“Damn,” you let out, glancing at Chan. “Should we wait it out, or…?” 

Something sparkles in his eyes, and he doesn’t need to speak for you to understand what he is thinking about. You let out a nervous giggle, giving him a single nod.

Chan takes your hand and the both of you dash into the rain. You let out a scream because the rain is cold, but you don’t stop. You and Chan run towards the car, crossing the parking lot as fast as you can. He doesn’t let go of your hand. 

You run fast, it feels like you have wings.

And yet, it’s like time slows down. 

You glance at Chan, his eyes disappear in crescents, his laugh the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. You can’t help it - you stop, pull on his hand and draw his body towards you. 

Under the falling rain you kiss. 

He kisses you back, his lips hungry and smooth. 

You slide an arm around his waist, and slowly, you start dancing. 

Chan bursts in laughter against your lips. He draws back, looking at you with tenderness spilling out his eyes, and joins you in the dance. For a minute or two, you dance under the rain. You turn, swirl, sway. You can’t stop laughing. 

You kiss again, and the rain starts falling harder on your heads, and even then you do not stop.

— the end.

Well, hello ♡ Believe me, posting was a surprise for me as well! But I found myself missing writing, missing sharing my writing with you, missing this. So here is the sequel that I once talked about, that has been written for a long time! I hope it's not too disappointing. I remember the writing of it very fondly. ♡ Please be kind as I haven't posted in forever haha.

Thank you for sticking around, thank you for reading me. I am so incredibly thankful. I don't think I'll create a taglist for now, so do not ask please ♡ I hope you enjoyed this, and please take care of each other. Love you all ♡♡

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club - Part 7

Pairing: The Grid x Reader, Lance x Reader

Summary: reader in a crash, book club dads worried af abt her

requests open masterlist

——————

You felt nervous going into Spa, a feeling that you just couldn’t shake. You had talked to Kimi about it and even crashed the Haas garage to talk to your best friends, but nothing could shake the pit as you climbed into the pit as the light rain started. Max looked at you and gave you a thumbs up before getting into his car.

You’ve never done great at Spa, the only reason you are P4 is because of the rocket ship that is you car. That was one lap, this is 44 laps. You release a shaky breath and focus on the lights above you. Not even 10 laps later the pit in your stomach increases due to the increased rainfall. You can’t get rid of the feeling despite your intense concentration on driving.

My tires aren’t going to last much longer, I’m losing grip.

Copy, Y/n, push one more lap then we will bring you in.

By the time you reported the tire conditions you were already mostly through sector three. You resteel yourself and push the car as hard as you could while managing the tires.

It’s when you enter sector two that you panic a little. You are losing grip faster than you thought and have begun fighting the steering.

GUYS SOMETHING IS HAPPENING

Y/n?

Y/n? Are you okay? Y/n!

Your wheels lose grip to the track and send you into the wall. It’s a nasty crash that immediately red flags, the debris across the track plus the rain increasing was enough for the FIA to red flag it. Your head is pounding and your vision a little blurry. Only when your ears stop ringing do you hear the radio.

Fuck, yeah I’m okay

You slur the words and pull yourself out of the car, immediately collapsing when you stand up as everything fades to black.

Lance, slow down, red flag, red flag.

Andrew? Who was that, don’t tell me it was Y/n. Fuck, is my wife ok?

It was her, no word back yet. Nothing over her radio from what we can tell.

Andrew, I need to know. Is. She. Ok.

She just said she was ok over the radio. There is debris across the track, stop the car and a marshall will get you back to the garage.

Shit, that’s bad. Andrew, what are you hiding from me?

Lance stops the car and gets out when it is safe to do so, as indicated by the marshal, but his heart drops when he sees you being put into ambulance.

“Mr Stroll, please let me at least let me get you back to the garage,” the marshal senses that he wants to fun over to the scene. Lance reluctantly goes back to the garage where he immediately pulls out of the race and goes to the hospital where they are taking his wife.

Max, Y/n crashed behind you, red flag.

Shit, is she okay?

No confirmation yet, make your way back to the pit lane.

Max feels his heart drop. He knew how uncomfortable you were going into the race and he would do anything to go back and time and tell her not to race. The red flag ended the race, and every driver had a similar reaction to Max and Lance. Max felt sick that that’s how he won, and he said as much in the post-race interviews. It was visible how much he and the paddock cared about you. Every one of your grid dads, as you affectionately called them when talking to Max, came over to him asking for updates, hoping Max would know more since he was your teammate.

“Lance, take a seat, pacing won’t help,” Kimi tells Lance, equally worried and frustrated at the lack of information as they wait in the hospital. Kimi was already on his way after the phone call this morning, this wasn’t what he expected when he touched down. Half the grid is sitting in the room, their legs bouncing or anxiously conversing.

“Mr. Stroll,” a nurse says, causing the both of them to hop up and walk to the desk.

“Who is Mr. Stroll?” she asks and Lance slightly raises his hand.

“I am, this is her father,” Lance says, the nurse motions for the two of them to follow.

“The doctor is in the private room waiting for you,” she closes the door behind Lance and Kimi.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Janssens. I have a bit of good and bad news. Good news is that Y/n only has a mild concussion, some whiplash, sprained wrist, and a small hairline fracture of the wrist. Bad news is that she’ll be out of racing for at least a month,” both Kimi and Lance cringe at the news.

“That’s all? It was a nasty crash,” Lance asks a bit skeptically, looking at your sleeping figure.

“Based on tests and scans, we have ruled out any head, neck, and back breaks. We have her pain meds, which is why she’s sleeping. She will likely be under observation for another day or two,” the doctor says, trying to relay the information in a delicate manor.

“Thank you,” Kimi dismisses the doctor, a hand resting on your shoulder. He and Lance sit in silence for a minute, gathering feelings and thoughts.

“She looks so peaceful,” Lance says softly, holding his sleeping wife’s hand.

“I’ll give you a moment while I talk to Christian and the drivers. Think about when you want to make a statement. I may hate the media, but you don’t want them to be hounding the hospital,” Kimi says before stepping out. Kimi and Christian quickly come to an agreement about the seat, the later not wanting to lose out on his second driver. The grid takes the news relatively well, but they all know how lucky they were, especially you. Pierre and Charles may have been handling it the worst.

“Kimi, will you look over this statement?” Lance asks, knowing the older man is an expert in saying things vaguely.

All-

We want to thank you for your support following Y/n’s crash. She is currently in the hospital under the care of great doctors. We are thankful that she is okay and look forward to a smooth recovery.

- The Räikkönens and Strolls

“Looks fine to me, I will take care of the outside stuff. You focus on our girl,” Kimi goes into Dad mode, sending the message to Red Bull and Lawrence. He posts the statement first on his account, Red Bull and Lawrence following shortly afterwards. Red Bull edited it slightly to reassure fans that you still had your seat waiting for you.

“Lance? You ask as you wake up, wincing from the pain. The room is dimmer, as to not strain you.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” he says softly, brushing hair from your eyes.

“Everything hurts,” you groan.

“Going into the wall will do that to you, you got lucky,” Kimi says from beside Lance.

“Dad? What did the doctor say, when can I get back into the car?” your vision slightly blurry as your eyes adjust to being awake.

“You have a concussion, whiplash, wrist sprain, and a hairline fracture. You’ll be out for about a month,” Kimi says, heart aching.

“Some of the guys are here? Want me to bring them in?” Lance asks, doing his best to distract you from the amount of time you will be out.

“Yeah,” you verbally confirm, not able to nod your head due to the neck pain. Lance leaves the room to grab the grid.

“I’m sorry, crashes like this are the worst,” Kimi tells you, clearly still affected by your crash.

“Thanks for being here, you didn’t have to leave everyone for me,” you says softly, thinking about your family back in Finland.

“They want to know that you are ok, and you are still my daughter, of course I will be here,” he replies, his softer side showing.

“I didn’t mean to scare everyone. Robin, Rianna, and Grace weren’t watching, right?” you panic a little, scared for their young minds.

“No, they know you are hurt, but they think it’s just a boo boo,” Kimi reassures you. The grid comes in and sufficiently distracts you, happy to know you’re okay.

You spend the next month in Finland with Kimi and your family, working back to 100%. Kimi takes you karting when you are almost fully recovered, getting you back to normal. Lance visits when he isn’t racing.

“Sissy, why do you have to go?” Robin asks, you tested in F1 cars again and got the green light to race again.

“I have to go drive in circles really really fast, just like Papa used to,” you crouch down to his level. Your sisters equally sad at your departure.

“What if you get a boo boo again?” Rianna asks, and you pause, thinking about how to explain it well.

“Do you stop going to the park even after your fall and get a boo boo there? Sometimes we get hurt, but that’s ok,” you don’t promise that you won’t get hurt, that’s not a promise you can keep. Rianna nods, understanding but sad you aren’t staying.

“Will Lancie come back next time?” Robin asks, not wanting to let you go.

“He will, I’ll be back in a couple weeks, it’ll fly by,” you give you siblings one last hug. Kimi hugs you goodbye as well, he spent the past week going over the track with you and talking about strategies.

When you get to the track, you are stopped by every driver, asking how you are and saying how much they missed you.

“Welcome back,” Fernando greets you when you walk into the club meeting.

“I listened to the audiobook, let’s get this party started,” you smile, happily listening to Lewis and Daniel fight about some symbolism. Your boys pampered you for your return. George brought you coffee from Mercedes, Logan brought you a pastry that he picked up from a bakery. Valtteri gave you some home remedies for your sore muscles that he swore works wonders. Kevin and Nico just hugged you but that was enough for you.

“Max was freaking out, he chewed out the Red Bull team for not pitting you earlier,” Daniel tells you, having filled in for you while you were hurt.

“That’s nice of him,” you smile to yourself. Lewis had also been vocal in interviews about how your crash could’ve been prevented if the race had ended sooner due to the rain.

“Y/n! Have a second?” a reporter asks and you nod.

“See you later, Danny,” you wave goodbye to him and approach the mic.

“Thanks for joining me, I just have a couple quick questions. First off, how are you feeling?”

“I’m really good, a little sore, but itching to get into the car again,” you reply, not giving away more than that regarding your injuries.

“You certainly seemed to scare the grid when you weren’t responding after the crash. How has your welcome back been?” the reporter pushes for more information.

“They’ve been great, they all came to the hospital to visit and have taken great care of me today. I obviously feel bad for scaring them, but they are the best competitors I could ask for,” you smile, before leaving the interview.

“Welcome back, kid,” Max hugs you when you walk into the Red Bull motorhome. You sing Super Max when you see him, having spent the last month listening to the silly songs that have been written for the drivers

“Thanks Maxie. Who is the better teammate, me or Daniel?” you grin, putting the dutchman in a tough spot.

“Daniel, for sure,” Max jokes. Your jaw drops and you turn around, leaving to go to another motorhome. You find yourself in McLaren, singing Let’s Go, Lando, with Lando himself who was happy to join in with your under-the-breath singing. Oscar wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at or murder the two of you.

“What brings you to our home?” Oscar asks once you both stop singing.

“Max said he liked Daniel more than me as a teammate,” you pout, not revealing that you knew he was joking.

“Right, I’m texting Lance,” Oscar shakes his head with a laugh, leaving you and Lando to chat.

“Y/n, love, you just healed, let’s not get hurt by forcing McLaren security to kick you out,” Lance laughs when he sees you and Lando bonding.

“Noooo, we were just becoming friends, she never hands out with drivers that are her age,” Lando whines. You give him an ick face.

“For good reason, you are all icky,” you quickly turn to Lance, “not you, baby,” you smile and turn back to Lando, “why would I hang out with you all and party after races when I can spend time with the older drivers whose company I prefer,” your eyebrow quirks.

“Say what you want, I’ve seen you at our parties. You have more fun than Lance,” Lando grins.

“Alright Lance, let’s go,” you get up, Lance assisting you since you are still a little slow due to the aches still in your muscles. He walks with you hand in hand back to Red Bull where your trainer helps work out your neck muscles and tape your neck and wrist.

“Let us know if you are feeling pain, if you have to pull out of free practice early, pull out. There is no shame if you are hurting,” Christian tells you, before you get to your car.

“I know, I’ll let you know,” you smile, feeling good in the car. After FP1, all of your grid dads found you after weigh ins, checking you over.

“Mi hija, are you okay? Does anything hurt? How is your hand,” Fernando asks, filling his usual position as the overprotective grid dad.

“A little sore, yeah,” you groan as you roll your shoulders.

“Don’t do that, let’s get you to an ice bath, then some heat,” Kevin says. Lance and your trainer don’t bother checking in on you.

“Let’s have a, well what your would call, a girls night. Help you recover,” Lewis suggests. And that’s how you spend the next few nights, in pajamas, with fluffy blankets, alternating cold and heat on your neck, watching movies of books you had read with the club.

“Petition to make this an occurrence each race?” Valtteri proposes at one point, getting eight voices in agreement back. They did a wonderful job of helping you recover, and the encouraging phone calls to Kimi helped you feel more than ready to race when race day approaches.

“IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO! GREAT START FROM RÄIKKÖNEN!” The announcer yells into the mic as you gain a few places, toe to toe with Max.

Can I race?

Permission to Race, give em hell, Y/n

You end up winning the race with a 1-2 finish, pulling a Carlos Sainz and Ferrari after his appendix removal. Your first F1 win.

[gaymurdersalad]

Jack! You should try talking it out with Dave. Tell him how you feel, how from your perspective how tiring and agonising this whole situation is.

Dave cares about you a lot. I'm sure he'll understand you.

> Fuck you! Quit giving me those puppy dog eyes! It’s not gonna work this time, no, you’re not gonna ruin my life and waltz back in like we’re still friends. I only liked you when I hated myself. Get it through that fucking lobotomized skull, you purple leech.

> … Do you even realize what you’re sayin’ to me, Sportsy?

> I know exactly what I’m saying! You deaf too, you bastard?

> I didn’t ask for your help! Y’know, Sportsy, I coulda been perfectly fine rotting in that alleyway! You didn’t HAVE to drag me back to your home just to fuckin’ chew me out you goddamn hypocrite! What the fuck is wrong with you?!

> It was a moment of weakness. Never in my right mind would I ever let you back in here!

> Sportsy, I know that ain’t really what you think, so can you stop bein’ so goddamn difficult and just tell me what the hell is pissin’ you off today?

> Today? Today?! You’ve been making my life fucking miserable since the moment I met you! You saw I was struggling, you noticed that I hated the company, and instead of leaving me well enough alone, you took advantage of me and made me do your fucking dirty work! I was prepared to do good, I was prepared to save whatever kid was stupid enough to let your cryptid ass lure them into the backroom, but god, when offered with the opportunity to burn it all down, I took it! I couldn’t have met a worse person, someone who fed into that fucking hate and malice and made me worse!

> You’re— You’re blaming me? Sportsy, You’re grown! You are a grown man, you made your own goddamn decision! How are you being so childish right now?! Stop tryin’ to escape the parts you don’t like about yourself, just deal with ‘em like every other adult!

> Deal with it?

> I killed children! Little kids!

> And that’s somehow my fault?

> If you’d have never been there, I never would have done it.

> But you did, you stupid motherfucker, you did! So grow up!

> If you weren’t so fucking obsessed with the legacy of a man that doesn’t even love you, I would never be here! I’d still be living my shitty existence with my shitty family in a shitty house that I couldn’t afford in a shitty world with a shitty job! Your bullfuckery cost me a life, it costed dozens of kids their futures, it destroyed families! Telling me to grow up?? You can only do whatever the fuck your daddy tells you to do!

> Do you know what the hell this means to me? Do you even understand why I’m doin’ this at all? It’s ‘cause I trust him, Sportsy, I trust him with my life ‘cause he’s saved it over and over again! You don’t know what’s happened to me, you don’t know what the hell I’ve seen, what Henry’s dragged me out of! You’ll never fuckin’ understand what he means to me!

> You’re right. I don’t know. Although what I do know, as any other sane, rational person would, is that whatever he’s done for you, it does not justify snuffing out the lives of little kids as some twisted form of gratitude.

> You’re bein’ really unfair!

> Unfair?? I didn’t realize murder was unfair! Okay, you should have every right to take someone else’s life! It’s only fair! It’s only right ‘cause it’s Henry!

> You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause you ain’t never had a dad, you don’t know what the fuck I’d lose if I didn’t satisfy him!

> …

> Yeah, turns out I ain’t brain dead, you soulless bastard. I remember everything you’ve ever told me. Everything you spilled outta those rotten guts in Vegas. You wanna know why, you sick fuck? ‘Cause I liked you. I liked how you treated me, like a person. Lookin’ at me wit’ them doe eyes, so fuckin’ receptive and so goddamn… affectionate.

> Look, Sportsy, I know you whether you want me to or not. I know you don’t hate me, I know you never did. I don’t hate you neither. It’s not a question of if you’re ashamed of what you’ve done or whether it’s my fault or not— you like me. You are so fuckin’ violated to know that I can see through you. Sometimes that’s what I like about you, but right now it’s pissin’ me off. Lay down the goddamn charades and tell me what you want without usin’ any of that goddamn language you were dishin’ out earlier.

> Stop living for Henry.

> …

> Stop making it impossible for me to like you.

> … I can be close with Henry and still be your friend, Sportsy—

> No, you can’t! My entire reason for existence is to right Henry’s wrongs! My best friend cannot be his fucking protégé! Dave, you don’t understand what this is doing to me! I want you more than I want to do good in the world! Do you realize how sincerely fucked up that is?!

> … You’re not the only one who feels this way, Sportsy. This is puttin’ me in a uncomfortable position too. You’re askin’ me for a lot.

> I didn’t realize not murdering anyone required serious introspection.

> Gah, it’s not just about the murder, get over it! That’s all you ever wanna fuckin’ talk about! The very fuckin’ notion that I should lay all my loyalties down for the likes of you is downright insulting— the one who abandoned me after givin’ me a taste of humanity! Yer a joke and a conman and I cannot fuckin’ stand you!

> Yet I care about what you think of me, which is the wildest part of it all! I want you to like me again, but as you’ve so clearly forced down my throat, you won’t do it again unless I betray my own father! Unless I submit to YOUR goddamn ideology! Is it just that you’re usin’ me? Do you just want another pair of hands just like I asked for yours all those years ago? Trynna worm your way into a heartless vessel, are ya? All I got left is my brain, Sportsy, and you and that pink fuck are rippin’ it apart at the seams! Gah!

> You ain’t blameless yourself, anyhow! What, you had one good trip on ether and decided you were a saint? You’ve killed same as me, don’t you dare try and look down on me like you’re any better! So easily persuaded to kill, so easily persuaded to spare— can you ever make up your goddamn mind, or are you just gonna let people boss you around your entire afterlife? Yer like a fuckin’ sheep, like goddamn livestock for people that wanna use you! Turns out we ain’t so different after all, huh?!

> GOD, YOU’RE SUCH A FUCKING PLAGUE!

> I WISH I NEVER TOLD YOU TO SKIP WORK! I WISH I MAIMED YOU IN THAT SPRINGLOCK SUIT, I WISH EVERY RIGGED PIECE IN THAT FUCKIN’ THING WRANG THE LIFE OUTTA YOU OUT FOR GOOD! GOD, I WISH YOU WERE FUCKIN’ DEAD!

> … You… You wish you what…?

> …!

[zaimta]

Hey hey. I love your writing style and I think that the quality of your work is just so amazing. <3 Can I please request some OP headcanons for Sanji, Zoro, and Law with a S/O who has a lot of fears (heights, the dark, loud noises, typically scary things,etc.,) but is physically strong and can protect themselves and the crew the when needed? Thanks!!

a/n- WHAGAG TY TY <33 sorry for the long wait too!!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

˗ˏˋSANJI

he is without a doubt “mr. knight in shining armor” you scream once and he’s immediately by your side ready to fight anything and anyone

there’s a thunderstorm on seas and you’re scared? he has to sit in the kitchen with him and he makes you some tea or any kind of snack you want to calm your nerves

if you’re the jumpy kind, he makes sure luffy n them don’t play any pranks on you, if they manage to and he hears your scream he runs over and kicks them all with a quickness

however if you got a problem with a spider or something he will be screaming with you

“what is wrong with you idiots scaring y/n like that?!”

when you’re fighting though it’s like you’re a different person, he watches you fight with hearts in his eyes

if you have to fight for your crew through one of your fears he’s very proud of you

˗ˏˋZORO

he’s sick and tired of you affectionately, he could be in the middle of a nap and once he hears you scream he rushes to you just to find out it’s something minor he gets slightly irritated and brushes it off

he’s always telling you that you gotta “toughen up” and “face your fears head on” 24/7, he claims that at some point he’ll stop helping you but he’ll always come though

if you’re scared of thunderstorms, when you cling onto him he’ll wrap an arm around you and tease you a little

“yea i got you, you big baby”

when you’re fighting he knows he doesn’t need to keep an eye on you and he’s slightly impressed every time, dare i say he finds you kickin ass attractive

but every time he teases you about it

“see you got it in y’a, now all you have to do is keep that up”

˗ˏˋLAW

sick n tired pt 2.

he tries to make sure that nothing that’ll scare you is on the sub, but there’s always something on land that’ll have you screaming

if you run into any bugs he’ll kill it for you with no hesitation but he’s a little irritated, but it’s clear he cares for you a lot

“you can’t keep letting your fears get the best of you what will you do when i’m not around y/n?”

saichi and penguin know better than to rope you into any pranks, but sometimes if your lurking around the ship at night bepo freaks you out because he’s eyes glow in the dark and he looks terrifying

he apologizes to you like 100 times

when it comes to you fighting law still looks in your direction every now and then, he knows you can handle yourself in a fight but since you’re so jumpy he does worry a little

[sociopathicartist]

hiii!! i really love and appreciate your work! i was wondering if you could do more more (classic) sans x reader (romantic) headcanons? whenever you get the chance of course! thank you :)

hi! thanks for requesting, i had fun writing these:3

Classic!Sans x Reader romantic headcanons.

I’m pretty sure I’ve talked about how physically affectionate he’d be, but It’s something I think is great to talk about with Sans.

After a bad day, no matter the reason, the first thing he wants to do is just be wrapped up in your arms.

The touch- your touch- is a big comfort and like of his, so if you don’t live together yet and he’s had a bad day at work or he’s just dealing with life, poof! He’s there in your house. There’s not even time to react before he’s practically buried himself in your embrace, nuzzling his face into your neck and wrapping his arms snugly around your figure to bask in the fact that he just has you. That everything is okay now. It’s so difficult for him sometimes to grasp the idea that you’re not going anywhere, and you won't leave him despite anything, even if it’s something that neither of you has control over. He’s been told by people to enjoy your little honeymoon phase while it lasts, that one day he’ll take it all for granted and you’ll both be sick of each other, but after a bad day where he can just cling onto you and take in your scent, your looks, your voice, the feeling of your fingers running along his skull and spine, he doesn’t see how he’ll ever get used to it. Sometimes he’ll sit there for hours just wrapped in your arms without saying anything until he’s finally ready to talk about his bad day, and other times he’ll just end up passing out and waking up 8 hours later confused about when he even fell asleep.

-

Since monsters don’t get sick until they are dying, you can imagine the fear whenever he sees you sick for the first time.

The concept of germs and infections is interesting to Sans. It’s so crazy to him how one little germ can just tear up a whole human immune system. Monsters don’t have this problem unless they’re dying, so hearing about other people getting sick was always so interesting for him to learn more about. Their symptoms, how it affects them, and how quickly they can recover.

Then he came home one day and saw you sick in bed, curled up under the plush covers feeling weak and tired.

He had no interest in germs and infections after that.

His obvious and immediate focus would be on you, rushing over to the bed and carefully pulling the covers back from over your head, and brushing some hair out of your face to see you.

‘baby, are you okay?’

‘you didn’t tell me you were sick. i would have come over sooner.’

‘i told you to take my jacket when we went out last night. are you sick from being cold outside?’

Even though he took care in raising Papyrus and has had experience in most caretaking situations, he had never dealt with a sick person before, he hadn’t even been to a monster funeral and seen them sick on their deathbed. Toriel had mentioned Frisk getting sick recently, right? What did she do?

So, his next focus will be on making you soup- or getting it from the store or his brother if his own attempts fail. (he hasn’t cooked in a while, give him a break). God forbid your throat start hurting too. He’s making sure you have enough blankets, a warm rag on your forehead, and despite being a bit worried you’ll throw up on him if he gets too cozy, he’s more than happy to give you small kisses and cuddles until you’re asleep or feeling better.

-

He talks about you to everyone.

It gets a bit nagging to hear after a while, especially for his coworkers who hear about you all the time.

‘oh my god, look at what y/n just sent me.’

‘check out this photo i took while we were out yesterday. aren’t they so pretty?’

‘that’s y/n’s favorite too.’

Everyone is aware both of you are together, there’s no avoiding the topic. How could he not talk about you to everyone? You’re so cool, amazing, and kind, there’s no reason he shouldn’t talk about you. A lot of people who you aren’t even aware exist know all about you. Sometimes whenever he takes you out to Grillbys or whenever you pop in to surprise him at his work with a homemade lunch, you can hear the snickers from his coworkers or friends whenever they realize who you are, practically famous to them now. He’s not sure if he’s talked about someone this much, but then again, dating you has had a positive influence on his behaviors and self-care, so maybe it’s not so bad that he never shuts up about you.

-

He can be avoidant to sentimental topics and conversations.

It’s not the best trait to be shut off about your feelings. Sans is very aware of that, and he’s trying his best to work on it now that he has you in the mix and relationships are built on a lot of sentimental topics and conversations.

Sans just has a hard time opening up about… anything, really. Most things people know about him are because they’ve seen him do it or they’ve heard something from someone else, almost never because he’s outright said something about himself. It was a hard adjustment to make whenever he started dating you, and still, even months or years later into your relationship, he finds himself getting nervous or choked up at trying to explain his bad day and why he’s feeling upset, or sharing past trauma with you that he wants you to know about, but it’s just suddenly very difficult to find the words, and it’s just suddenly very difficult to even speak. He might hit you with the classic subject change, or sudden diversion, but it never really works. Not whenever you know him so well and can easily see what he’s doing.

This takes a toll whenever it comes to arguments, big or small (which happen to everyone, no matter how healthy your relationship is). He really has to do his best to not just teleport away somewhere and ignore the ongoing situation like he used to do with 90% of his problems back underground, or really just before he met you. His stubborn personality also doesn’t help with any sort of arguments, but that doesn’t mean he’s manipulative with you (unless he’s cheating while you’re playing a card game together) and he doesn’t hesitate to call out one of your problems or apologize for his, it just makes it even harder for him to actually voice that he’s upset, or worried, or sad.

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t try, though. He does, and even though he still finds it difficult to share something with you sometimes, he does his best to talk with you about it anyways, and hold you close to him after any arguments.

-

Petnames. He never thought he’d be a pet name guy, even in the crazy future where he started dating someone (which ends up happening, surprise surprise), but he guessed he should have seen it coming. He does use nicknames for most relevant people in his life, even if a simple shortened version of their name, ‘bro’, ‘buddy’, ‘tor’, ‘kiddo’, so it makes sense for him to naturally pick up on some for you too. Dating just unlocked a whole new vault of petnames he gets to use.

Babe would be a classic that he likes, he’s a simple guy after all. He likes how easy and thoughtless it is, and he nearly substitutes it for your name all together with how frequently he uses babe on you in his sentences.

‘no, babe, i’m serious.’

‘Serious? I thought you were Sans?”

Baby is also an easy one that he likes, but he only really uses it whenever one of you is upset, or when you’re sick or something of the sorts. He doesn’t like calling you Baby around other people. Maybe that’s because it feels more intimate and close to him for some reason, but it just rings as a more personal nickname.

‘baby, what happened?’

‘oh shit, baby, don’t cry.’

‘are you okay? c’mere, baby.’

There’s a few petnames that he likes using for more romantic settings too, whether that’s a date or a more intimate setting, and he just doesn’t feel like baby or babe sits right in the moment. Once again, he’s a fan of the more classic petnames following EX: Sweet-stuff, beautiful, pretty/handsome. All of the petnames he uses on you coordinate to their setting, and if he’s being honest, he doesn’t even realize he does that. It’s just whether or not the petname feels natural rolling off his tongue to you in the moment, but those are the select main ones he uses for different times or settings.

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Teaser ➤ with one lost is the gain of someone greater

Word count › 5k

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › none

Kinks › anal fingering, light nipple play, rimming

(Words to know—

Baobei: baby, affectionate from a parent to child

Ge: older brother (doesn’t have to be related, can be romantic)

Di: little brother

Wangliang: demons, spirits, any malevolent creatures

Jiangshi: hopping vampire that sucks one soul out)

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

The soft sound of feet patter against the ground shook a woman awake as she saw her sun run up to her. Her son huffed, face stained with tears as he waited for her to say something. She only sighed as she got out of bed and guided him to the mirror on the small table.

She gently forced him down to a kneel, with her joining as well to be height level with his face. The boy stared straight at the mirror as his mother cleaned up his bruises, taking out any twigs in his hair as well.

This wasn’t the first time this happened. It always happened whenever the boy went out. Whenever he tried to gain his father’s approval.

“I’m pathetic compared to my siblings!” He suddenly blurted out as his mother cleaned up a slit in his lip.

She glared at him. “How can you say that about yourself?”

“He seems to think so! I don’t matter to him. I don’t matter to anyone!”

“You do matter, (Name). Emperor Chu is a very busy man. An important man. Emperor Chu gives you a life many other children dream of. Appreciate it.”

“Papa doesn’t care for me.”

“(Name). You know you must call the emperor by his title.”

“Why? I can call you mama.”

(Name)’s mother sighed as she gently pulled his hair out of the ponytail, allowing it to stay out. She continued to fix his hanfu, making sure it fit his more frail body. He had always been sick. He knew that. The hanfu felt a bit big on him. His sickness only caused him to be stunted in growth compared to other boys.

The shoulders of the hanfu had to be bunched up to not fall off. But his sickness was no shock.

How could it be when his mother herself was known to be weak as a child. She couldn’t play like the other children. Confined to her room as she coughed up blood. It was a miracle she lived so long, even having a baby boy. But it only meant he received her illness.

“Emperor Chu loves you. It may not show but Emperor Chu doesn’t have favorites—loving all of you equally, like a emperor must.”

“But he doesn’t love you equally like his wife.”

“Please, (Name), do not refer to His royal highness so casually. If you get tired of saying Emperor Chu so much, call him by his other titles. I want you to be safe.”

“He’s my Papa.”

“He’s an Emperor first. My Baobei, please, for me.” Her dark hair framed her pale skin beautifully. It was no wonder Emperor Chu chose her as a consort. Such a beautiful woman could only belong to a powerful man. (Name) didn’t understand this well at the age of ten but he knew deep down that his mother wasn’t as lucky as the maids thought she was.

(Name) simply nodded. “Sorry.”

“I’m sorry, it’s important to practice formal speech, Baobei.”

(Name) simply nodded. He didn’t like his life at all. Staying indoors. Being forced to watch his siblings be doted on by his father while he only sends a maid to give him gifts. It wasn’t like the illness was contagious. Many people came near him or touched him and nothing happened to them months later.

This silly illness. It was ruining his life.

ꕥ

“Seventh Prince! Consort Yuying has requested you. Please, get him dress.” A guard said outside his door. The maid in (Name)’s room, Xiulan, got up from her seat on the floor and began to pull out his clothes.

(Name) sat up from his bed, glancing out at the opened doors to the mini courtyard that belonged to him and his mother. Consorts usually got their own sections of the palace. Since his mother was the ninth consort, many expected she’d get the leftovers but her being the prettiest, they had earned the more fancied one. The first consort was the emperor’s wife.

So she wasn’t even truly a consort anymore. She was an empress.

Xiulan motioned for him to get up as she removed his sleepwear, slipping on his hanfu and shoes. He bent down a little for the short woman to pull his long hair up into a bun. No one ever cut their hair. It was the hair from their parents. They shouldn’t disrespect it. Shaving was mostly fine. But (Name) didn’t grow much on his face.

His illness, is what his doctor had said.

“Seventh Prince is ready.” Xiulan stated as she opened the sliding door on their right. The guard there simply nodded and bowed in respect to (Name). The lower class referred to any child of the emperor in terms of when they were born.

(Name) was the seventh son, so he was named the Seventh Prince. He was also the last child. The youngest. It didn’t help that he was also terribly sick most of his nights so almost everyone babied him to an annoying degree.

When he was younger, it bothered him but now, as he felt weaker by the day, it made sense. He could hardly walk far without needing to stop.

He was weak. He needed every ounce of protection they gave him. But he was only sixteen.

His mother…

She wasn’t doing good.

The room she was in was close to the Emperor. It was so he could visit her with ease. She was bedridden most of the time, asleep as her health deteriorated. (Name) didn’t visit her much. He knew it wasn’t good to do such a thing to do her.

She needed to see her only son but he was scared.

To be confronted with the reality that she’s dying.

That he’s dying, too.

“She’s inside, Seventh Prince. I’ll be waiting here.” The guard said, holding his staff close to him. (Name) nodded as he walked inside the room, for the first time in maybe months.

There was his mother, her hair thinning. It was no longer shiny and thick. It was almost breaking off. Her normally beautiful sharp cheek bones looked scary with her skinnier face. She was dying.

(Name) pushed through any sight of distress and walked over to kneel down beside her body. The maids in the room made sure to give a bit of space for him, but hovered around just in case her health took a turn for the worst.

“Baobei…” Yuying sighed, tears streaming down her face. She reached one frail hand up to touch his face, cupping his chubby cheek. A small laugh left her lips. She had missed this. His cute cheeks that puffed out whenever he pouted or stuffed his mouth.

Pouty lips that were turning too pale for her liking. Yuying grunted as she moved to sit up, much to the maid’s dismay. (Name) tried to make her stay down but she somehow pushed him off. Whatever strength she had was still there. She was supposed to be only thirty-five but she looked fifty.

“Baobei, I failed you.”

“No. No. Mama, I failed you. I got so scared to see you. I didn’t want to see you like this but that was so selfish of me. Please, forgive me.” He cried, leaning his head on her shoulder.

Yuying reached a hand into his hair and pulled out his bun, allowing his long black hair to fall out. (Name) pulled away and looked at her in confusion. He watched as she played around with it, a smile on her lips.

“I missed your hair. It was healthier than mines.”

“Mama…”

“Baobei, I don’t have much time left. They’re taking so much from me and I couldn’t stop them. What I have…” Yuying coughed, blood splattered on (Name)’s face but he was too shocked to react.

“No, the doctor said you had a few years left. Please, please. Don’t…”

“Baobei, listen to me. This isn’t a normal Illness. We aren’t sick.”

“What are you talking about Mama?”

Yuying glanced around, as if she was scared someone was watching.

“I’ve called a shaman to help you. He’s been here the entire time, watching you. He told me he’s ready for the attack.”

“Mama, you’re not making sense. Let’s lay down…”

“Baobei!” She yelled, a look of anger in her eyes. “Once I lay down I’m gone. Let me tell you this so you don’t face this fate. My mother came from the Xians. It gave me the ability to see the future with eternal beauty. This caught the attention of many Wangliang.”

“Wangliang…? But they don’t exist. Xians aren’t real. No one could be immortal.”

“Xians don’t just have immortality. But this doesn’t matter, what matters is that your illness is because a Wangliang is feeding off of you like a parasite. And it’s not just one. It’s why you have been getting weaker much faster than I did when I was younger.”

(Name) felt dizzy. He didn’t understand. His mother seemed to know from his face as she sighed.

“Baobei… I have a notebook that’s tucked somewhere in your room. Find it, it’ll give you more insight. But just know, your ability is something stronger than mines. Mines could only grant me ten seconds into the future. Your ability, it seems to deal with your heart.”

“Mama…. Why are you speaking as if today is your last..?”

“It is, Baobei. It’s too late to save me.”

“No. No! This shaman you spoke of, why can’t he save you?!” (Name) yelled, gripping at his mother’s hanfu. She simply smiled at him, cradling his face as she leaned in to press a soft kiss on his forehead.

“There’s only so much you can do for someone as old and frail as me. I used my ability for wrong reasons. I deserve my fate.” She pushed back a lock of hair to place behind his ear. “I’m blessed to say my goodbyes.”

Yuying moved to lay back down on her bed as she smiled up at her son. “I love you, Baobei.”

Then her eyes were closed.

(Name) screamed out as he shook his mother, hoping she would awaken. The maids in the room called out for the doctor, one trying to pull (Name) away from his mother’s corpse but was swiftly pushed away. He cried out in pain, a cry that was never heard from the boy ever in his life.

“Mama! Mama, please!” He chanted, rocking her body back and forth. People rushed into the room but (Name) couldn’t lay them any mind. His mother was gone. His mother, his only true parent was gone.

He was all alone.

Strong arms gripped him tightly and pulled him away from the body, easily subduing him. (Name) weakly fought against the man’s hold but could only whimper out for his mother to wake up. The one day.

The one day he went to see her and she was gone.

The man holding (Name) ended up being Emperor Chu and the Eldest Prince, Laohu who took over once his father had to check the body. (Name) cried in his brother’s arm, holding him close. Despite them having different mothers, they were close.

His twelve siblings all loved him well. Emperor Chu had seven boys and five girls. A good luck that many praised him for. Laohu was much older than most of the siblings. Close to his late twenties by now. He acted as (Name)’s father at this point as Emperor Chu couldn’t bother to be one.

“Ge… Ge!!” (Name) cried, wishing he had died with his mother. He couldn’t continue like this. Not without his rock.

“Di, can you stand?” Laohu muttered.

(Name) didn’t answer. Laohu nodded towards one his other brothers, the Sixth Prince, and motioned for him to help carry him to his room. Sixth Prince, Donghai, helped Laohu carry their younger brother to his room.

The death of a consort, no matter how little she mattered to the emperor, was a devastating loss. Everything stopped as they were allowed to mourn. And it was warranted for Yuying. She wasn’t just a consort.

She was someone to the lower class people before Emperor Chu found her.

She was a light of hope in their dark days.

And now she was gone.

(Name) was never the same after. And neither was his family.

ꕥ

“Di, please, you’ve been through here a thousands times before. You should’ve found it by now if it was truly here,” Donghai said, watching as (Name) once again turned every pillow and blanket to find the notebook his mother had once mentioned.

(Name) glanced at his brother, “Ge, you don’t understand! She said it’d be here for me. She mentioned a shaman!”

“Shamans aren’t people you should trust, Di. Please, you’re already getting more frail,” Donghai grasped his brother’s hand, (Name)’s thin hands looked small against his.

(Name) knew everyone was anxious for him. His mother died earlier than the doctor had estimated. Everyone walked on eggshells, hoping to not awaken to the news that they lost him too. It had been only three years, (Name) was nineteen. But it still felt like yesterday some days.

Donghai was the one worried the most. He was the sixth son but eleventh child. They were only two years apart in age. He had a relationship to (Name) that the other brothers didn’t have.

Laohu and Donghai had a love for him that rivaled his mother sometimes.

The other four brothers didn’t speak much to (Name) but the rare times they did, they cared deeply for him. But they focused more on their positions in the military. Two were twins and one shared the same mother as Laohu. Only four years younger than him. The last one, the Second Prince shared a mother with the Eldest Princess.

She was the first child. But she was never home, having married off to a man in a neighboring state. But whenever Laohu visited, he always told (Name) she was happy.

“I will be fine… but thank you for worrying.” (Name) smiled.

Donghai didn’t looked convinced but nodded.

“Sixth Prince! Emperor Chu has requested you to the throne room!”

“I will see you at dinner.”

“Bye, Ge.”

(Name) waited for Donghai to leave before he continued his search for his mother’s notebook. He wished she had told him where. But all he had to go with is that it should’ve be hidden that no maid could come across it while cleaning.

Xiulan wasn’t going to enjoy having to clean his room after this mess he was making. But he couldn’t worry about that. His mother came first.

He was feeling weaker by the minute and if this notebook could save him, he’d find it. The sliding door open, pausing his search as he looked over to see Consort Yue Lin. She was Laohu’s mother.

(Name) quickly bowed, showing respect to her. The second consort. She was very important to the emperor behind his wife. Many wondered if it was because his wife only gave him a daughter with no sons. It certainly made her seem pathetic in terms of Consort Yue Lin.

“(Name), if I may call you that, how are you feeling?” Yue Lin kneeled down next to (Name), her brown hair pulled into an intricate braid with flower pins holding them place. She certainly dressed as a queen.

“I have had better days, Consort Yue Lin.”

“I lost my mother quite young as well. Not as tragic as you but I know your pain. Laohu loves you. Very much. I think he loves you more than me,” she laughed. “Know that he is someone to talk to. He has reached his thirties. He’s wise. A… a father figure.”

(Name) was shocked that Yue Lin acknowledge the poor parenting skills of an emperor. But she want wrong. Laohu was a father to him. Not Emperor Chu.

“The Shaman…”

(Name) stared at her in fear.

She simply grinned. “I saw him once. He’s hidden himself as a knight very well. But he’s around here. He’s one of the knights that guards the entrance to the gate leading to the forest. However, if anyone told you, I never knew.”

“Yes, of course!”

“As for the notebook, floor.”

“Floor…?”

“Floor.” With a curt nod, she rose up and walked out of the room, subtly pointing at a spot near the closet. The door closed behind her as (Name) rushed over the the closet door and felt around on the ground.

He gasped when one felt loose. With ease, he pulled off one of the floor board to see the notebook underneath. He quickly grabbed it and placed the board back into its spot.

He’d give an excuse to why one of the floor boards were broken. What mattered now was that he got what he had been looking for.

The notebook was mainly a diary. Laying down a timeline of Yuying’s time before she was found at age eighteen by Emperor Chu to become his last consort. By the next year, she was pregnant with him.

She was happy. Stating how much Emperor Chu loved her despite him being near 40s when he impregnated her. It didn’t shock (Name). He knew his father was creepy when choosing the woman he wanted. Past emperors choose their women the first year he was given the title. But Emperor Chu waited.

He waited for each beautiful woman to be ready for marriage and to bear children.

It give him twelve so many didn’t go against him, even if they wondered what he could’ve truly had in common with such a young bride.

“Baobei.”

That voice.

(Name) closed the notebook, right was he was about to reach his mother’s words on the so called ‘Wangliang’. He placed the notebook on the ground and followed the sound of his mother into the forest near his courtyard. (Name) struggled to jump over the fence but was finally able to when something grabbed him.

His head was hurting but his mother’s voice took over. Calling to him. The snow crunched beneath his bare feet as he walked over to wherever his mother was. He could feel eyes on him. Watching him as he walked to his death.

Grief was a powerful thing.

It clouded one’s judgement. They couldn’t think straight.

The trance he was in was gone once he reached the middle of the forest, dressed in a light hanfu, not made for the cold weather. He wrapped his arms around himself as he looked around. The night sky made the usually calm forest seem scary.

Only the moonlight was his light. It shined down on him, as if mocking him for being so foolish. The crunching of snow near him shock him as he turned around erratically, looking to see who was coming close to him.

“Baobei… come to mama.”

(Name) watched in horror as something tall and imposing walked from it’s hiding spot. It was lankey and tall, long limbs that no human could ever have. A white face with dark black eyes, a large sinister smile. Blood was coated on it’s lip as it bent down slightly to level itself with (Name).

“Baobei.” It said in his mother’s voice.

(Name) felt his knees collapse beneath him. He dropped to the floor, staring up at the unknown beast. This was a Wangliang…? It began to laugh, in a voice that belonged to a multitude of people.

It’s jaw unhinged as a long tongue slithered out, reaching over to caress (Name)’s face. He felt himself blank at the gross tongue touching him. Was this how he died?

Donghai… Laohu…

His mother.

He didn’t even get to see the shaman.

(Name) closed his eyes tightly as the Wangliang’s tongue tightened around his throat, leaning down with it’s wide jaw to swallow him whole when a shriek was heard.

The Wangliang cried out with it’s tongue but clean off. Black blood splattered across (Name)’s face, sending him into a quick shocking memory of his mother doing the same on her death bed. He could only stay still on the floor as whoever it was, killed the beast in front of him.

It was dressed in his people’s knight uniform. He swung around a Guandao with ease. A long staff with a sharp curved blade at the end. The Wangliang screamed as it tried to fight back only to easily be killed with a slice at it’s neck.

The head fell down not too far away from (Name) as black blood sprayed out of the corpse, covering the knight’s face and body. But he didn’t seem phased. He only wiped it away with his hanfu and muttered a quick prayer before sprinting over to (Name).

“Seventh Prince! Apologies for being late. I did not notice when you left.”

The knight kneeled down to grab (Name) only for (Name) to jump into his arms. He paused for a moment, wondering if there was something wrong only to see that (Name)’s body trembled in his arms.

“Are you… Are you the shaman Mama was speaking about?”

“Yes. Consort Yuying paid me to protect you. If she caught the Jiangshi before it fully killed you, she thought you will survive. But it isn’t just the jiangshi killing you.”

“I don’t understand.”

The shaman simply hummed. “I do not expect you to understand, Seventh Prince. You do not need to worry much about what is happening. What matters is that you trust me,” he wrapped one arm around (Name)’s waist.

(Name) pulled away from his neck and stared at him, wanting to get a good look at who this man was. His long hair was pulled into a ponytail, giving a clear look at his facial features. Monolids with medium size lips. A prominent nose that was actually beautiful to (Name).

He knew others would possibly view the man as ugly but he couldn’t help the flutter in his heart.

“Do you trust me?” The man asked.

“Your name?”

“… Fa Yichen.”

“That doesn’t seem like you’re real name.”

“It is not. But when you prove yourself to me, I will tell you,” Yichen said, a faint smile on his lips. It looked off for someone to be smiling while their face was splotches of blood but (Name) supposed it wasn’t human blood.

“I’ll call you Ge.”

“I do not deserve such title. Call me Yichen.”

(Name) pouted but nodded. Yichen stood up, holding (Name) in his arms with ease. The man was tall, having to possibly be 6’4 or maybe even 6’6. (Name) wasn’t sure. All he knew for sure was that Yichen had an intimidating stature.

Muscular all around. He put (Name)’s military brothers to shame. (Name) wrapped his arms around his neck, allowing him to carry him back to the palace. His feet were dirty with snow. But he couldn’t feel it well due to the cold.

He just wanted to warm up.

Once they reached (Name)’s room, Yichen placed him down on the bed and immediately went to leave.

“Ge!”

Yichen turned back to face him, “Yichen. I do not deserve such a kind title.”

(Name) grinned. “Sorry, I will not do it again.”

He will do it again.

“Is there anything you need? I can call Miss Xiulan to come clean you.”

“I want you to. We can get to know each other!”

“No.”

“Please!”

“I’m sorry.”

“How can I trust you if you won’t do a simple task?”

Yichen’s eyebrows twitched in annoyance before grunting. “I’ll start the bath.”

(Name) smirked to himself. Perhaps he could get Yichen into the bath with him. Hey, it might been a bit weird to try and get some random man into a bath with him but he wasn’t exactly thinking.

His first time alone with a very beautiful man.

“Seventh Prince, the bath is ready.”

(Name) walked over to the connected bathroom and began to strip out of his dirty clothes. He wasn’t sure how he could explain the blood on them. Maybe that it was paint.

His clothes pooled on the floor around his feet as he glanced over to see if Yichen was watching him. The shaman was looking away with a light blush on his cheeks. (Name) grinned. He wasn’t exactly doing anything with that.

He was just used to being naked in front of maybe people so he forgot not everyone would be comfortable with it. “Apologies. I was raised to not be bothered by nudity.”

“It is no issue. I’ll leave you to your bath.”

“No!”

Yichen stopped himself from leaving.

“Can you wash me? Xiulan does most of the work, I cannot suddenly do it alone.” (Name) said, walking over to the bath as he slipped in.

Once Yichen counted to ten in his head, he turned around to see (Name) fully covered by the water. (Name) grinned as he watched Yichen fumble around looking for the soap. It was different from Xiulan who moved with grace, sliding the soap all over him with ease and the muscle memory.

Yichen was slow. As if he was scared that if he went too fast, he’d tear (Name) apart. It wasn’t an unfounded fear. (Name) was small in every way compared to Yichen. Especially with their sizes.

Yichen’s hand almost covered (Name)’s entire back. And the brief moment they stood close together, (Name)’s head only reached his shoulder. But it was honestly the perfect height for him to just rest his head there if they hugged.

“Ge…”

“Yichen.”

“Why was my mother too far gone?”

“Consort Yuying had been losing her life force to the Jiangshi since birth. They went after her due to her soul being more powerful than any ordinary human.” Yichen reached down to trace (Name)’s chest, the area where his heart was.

“Jiangshi loves souls. The more powerful, the more they want it. It is more of an unfortunate situation that her parents did not know of the Wangliangs that roam the earth.”

“If they had know…”

“Consort Yuying could have lived a fruitful life. But that is the past, we cannot change what has been done. I promised your mother that she could pass with me caring for you.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I just wish I knew…”

“She was fearful that she’d scare you. That it would have sent you straight into a Jiangshi’s awaiting mouth.”

(Name) hummed as he leaned back into the touch of Yichen. Yichen’s hand that held the rag roamed his body, not touching his legs or anything lower than his stomach. (Name) bit his lip, reaching up to grasp the hand resting on the tub.

Yichen hesitated for a moment before continuing, “do you want to wash your hair?”

“Another time. It’s a process.”

(Name) glanced down at his body, blushing at his hard nipples. Yichen seemed to not notice, really focused on bathing (Name) as if it was his job. It was a bit of a disappointment from his dream but he knew he had a weird imagination.

“Seventh Prince…”

“Yes?”

“I must tell you, sex is heavily influenced in your mother’s kind. The Xians.”

“Those immortal humans?”

“The original Xians were immortal, yes. But your mother’s family was a more muted version of them. You don’t live forever. But to awaken the power at first, a connection to the body is needed.”

“A connection?”

“Please, tell me whenever you are uncomfortable.”

“Yichen?”

A gasp left (Name)’s lips when he felt a tug at his nipples. He arched his back, his head resting on Yichen’s shoulder as he pulled at both nipples. Yichen’s much larger hands cupped his chest entirely. It sent a shiver down his spine.

How could he hands look against other parts of his body…?

“Stimulation is a great way to connect to one’s body. It is the fastest way other than meditation. Next time we can do meditation.”

(Name) did not want to do medication next time.

Yichen’s fingers rolled (Name)’s nipples around, watching every reaction the Prince gave him. In any other circumstance, he would’ve told his client to do it themself.

But he knew (Name). Ever since they were babies.

And he wouldn’t lie that he was physically attracted to him. There was no way he’d get another chance like this. (Name)’s soft whimpering filled in the room as one of Yichen’s hand moved downwards to grip his ass.

The squeak (Name) released, one that reminded him of a cute hamster, was music to Yichen’s ears. Yichen probed at (Name)’s hole, enjoying the sounds from (Name)’s lips.

“I’ll need to take you out of the bath so I can properly stimulate you.”

“Please…”

Yichen easily picked up (Name) and held him close as walked over to the bedroom. He checked to make sure the sliding doors were closed from the courtyard so no cool air came in. With that, he laid down on the floor, keeping (Name) on top of him.

“Relax and let me take care of everything,” Yichen pulled him up to bring his asshole near his lips. It was eye opening to feel something foreign touch his ass.

(Name) gripped at the floor beneath him as he cried out in pleasure as Yichen thrusted his tongue inside. He was shocked at the fact something could fit inside of him. Yichen’s grip on his thighs were tight, holding him close to his body as he explored his asshole.

He felt close. His cock twitching, ready to release. (Name) flinched when he felt something probe at his asshole, a finger this time. He blushed, wondering how Yichen’s finger would feel deep inside. One finger slowly pushed in as he pulled his tongue away.

His one finger was thick, it felt like two. (Name)’s body twitched as he cried out, feeling the finger drag against his warm walls. He clenched around the finger before feeling himself cum. Much to his disappointment, Yichen pulled his finger out and maneuvered (Name) to lay down on his bed.

“Do you feel differently?”

“I feel tired…” (Name) sighed. “But something feels… light…”

“Good. In the morning, we will talk more.” He moved to get up.

“Ge, don’t leave…”

“I—”

“Di! Where are….”

(Name) and Yichen stared at the door showing a shocked Donghai. Donghai glanced at the wet naked body of his younger brother and the strange man’s clothing that had indents of water.

Oh, he was about to kill this man.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

I went off the deep end. I wanted to do some medieval Chinese fantasy and I went too far…

Yichen debut! He’ll be coming back in the far future after I do some requests first! Oikawa fic tomorrow!!

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo

Number 1 fan: @rainnyydaysworld

Request by: @kazuhazuuu hope it exceeds your expectations! <3