#I wish the jacket was real because it looks so cool

[ukiyoebirds]

Made for @ririemimo's DTIYS. Check out the original design at their twitter.

Thanks for the cool design! It was fun figuring out how to compose the piece.

[daenysx]

hi bby, could i request jealous modern!aemond?😊

i tried my best but i feel like everything was better in my head, i hope i managed to get things right with the words <333 thanks for requesting

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

-aemond needs to get you back.

cw; kinda like exes to lovers, jealous!aemond, aemond being an idiot and he's sorry for that, criston cole in his own warning, reader's shorter than aemond, mentions of alcohol, kissing, aemond being desperate to get you back, also he's a sad fool and he accepts that, suggestive towards the end but nothing descriptive, title is a hozier lyric

wc; 2k

i'll crawl home to her

aemond likes to think he's good at controlling his emotions. at least he can keep his face neutral, he doesn't let people know what he thinks.

that turns out to be a lie, though, the moment he sees a guy behind the bar stool you sit.

he relaxes his fists. you're not his girlfriend. he has no right to feel jealous over your affections. who's that guy, anyway? how can he be bold enough to talk to you like this, leaning to the bar with his arm almost wrapped around you? aemond hates the idea of someone being braver than him. he fucking despises the idea of you giving a smile to that- that asshole.

"you okay?" cole asks, his glass almost empty in his hand. he follows aemond's gaze and, boom. just like he guessed.

"of course, i'm okay." aemond replies, coolly. there's no logical reason behind his real emotions.

"if you keep staring like that, she will notice."

aemond turns to him sharply. his gaze is burning, almost feels like crying or something worse than that. "i'm not staring."

"if you say so." cole shrugs. he's got worse problems than dealing with aemond's jealousy to be honest. he knows aemond will never admit what's happening in truth.

"do you- do you know who that is?" aemond asks, not that he thinks cole can actually know a random guy at the bar. he tries to fill the stupid silence between them, change the subject after that, storm out when he finishes his drink. he despises the pathetic situation he unwillingly put himself into.

"do i know the guy who's flirting with your ex-girlfriend?" cole pretends to think. "um- no, i don't actually."

the mention of you burns his chest. it's because of the whisky, he tells himself. keep your cool, keep your cool. don't let them know anything.

"it doesn't matter, anyway." he says, feeling like a desperate fool.

"no, it doesn't." cole agrees. aemond can sense his mocking, his tendency to talk boldly tonight. cole isn't like that usually. "because you are not together anymore."

"we're not."

"because you let her go." cole continues, takes a sip from his glass. "it was quite stupid of you if you ask me."

"i didn't ask you, cole."

"no, no, but just- what were you thinking when you decided to break things off with her, hmm? what was the motivation behind it?"

"you're going too far."

"i'm not." cole says. "you just can't face with your own decisions."

"fuck off." aemond stands up, getting his jacket. "you don't even know what you're talking about. didn't ask your damn opinion about my love life, did i?"

"just admit you failed, aemond. lost the one good thing about you." cole speaks calmly after him. "you'd do all of us a great favor."

aemond walks away. there's no need for drunken arguments tonight, he's certainly not in the mood for discussing his past decisions. he can't help a brief look on your seat, though. you're not there. he didn't see you leaving, he can't see your jacket or that sparkly purse you love so much. the guy stays where he is, chatting with his friends. where are you?

"oh!" someone shorter than him almost collapses with his chest. "aemond?"

aemond wishes you to not look so pretty with that smudged eye make up and- his fucking favorite color on your lips. what kind of strength should he have to not kiss you against the wall when you're looking at him through those glossy eyes? he takes a step back, an apology ready on his lips.

you beat him through it. "sorry." you say, blinking your pretty eyes. "didn't see you there."

"no, it's okay." he collects himself before doing something stupid. "i was walking too fast."

you nod, your purse in your hand and your jacket thrown on your shoulders. you don't look drunk, maybe just tipsy. turning your back to him, you keep walking your way, out of the club. running into your ex-boyfriend shouldn't stop you from going home.

aemond thinks of the guy back there. you're not together with him, are you? he's not with you right now, he doesn't call a cab, and you don't look like you're waiting for anyone. that must be a relief. it doesn't feel like it, though. aemond is certain anyone who sees you would fall for your charms, that guy was no exception. all the hypothetical men get into his head. fuck them all.

"are you alone?" he asks you, foolishly. you nod. no words for him. why would you bother?

"i can- my car is over there if you-"

"i don't want anything from you, aemond."

okay. he deserves this. he knows he deserves this.

"it's late." he says. "i know you don't want anything to do with me, but i can at least-"

"i said no." you cut him. "you don't have to pretend to care."

you start walking in the cool breeze of night air. it feels nice on your face. aemond follows you like he's lost, like he doesn't know where to go without you. "can we talk?" he asks, his voice is softer than the last time you talked. "please?"

"there's nothing to talk about." you tell him, looking at him briefly.

"i made a mistake." he says like he's pleading. the alcohol gets him, his lips move on their own. he keeps telling himself he won't regret anything he tells you right now. he's not drunk, that means they are all real. "i made many mistakes. letting you go was the worst of them."

"that sounds like an interesting story." you say, sarcastically. "would you like to continue? i'm sure people on the street will enjoy your freak show."

he has no explanation for this but your attitude turns him on.

"i saw you with that guy." he says.

"you really should stop talking now." you say. "you're being pathetic."

"no, i-" he can get on his knees and beg. he's cursing his past self, cursing his stupid decisions. "please."

"please, what?" you get angrier each second. this is not a game you'll be playing with him. "do you realize how stupid you sound?"

"of course i do." he answers with a slight pout. "i just need you to see- to understand how terrible it makes me feel, to- to see you with another guy and not being able to do anything about it-"

"no need to be so selfish." you say, calmly. "i'm not your anything. you cannot react like this every time we run into each other by chance."

"i regret it." his legs can give up any second now. he begs for something divine to help him out of his misery. "i regret everything i did. i never should have let you go."

your heartbeat gets quicker with anger and adrenaline. the fact that you're still hopelessly in love with him does nothing to calm your nerves. he doesn't deserve your love. you will not accept anything he says until he proves he's worthy. you try to control your breath, stop your hands from shaking. he has no right to do this, you remind yourself.

"it's too late." you say. "you don't deserve to get everything back after you let them go like the way you did."

he looks at you so sweetly, you have to swallow and look away. he's fond of that attitude of yours, how you put yourself first after he hurt you, and his chest tightens with the loss of you there but he can't help a wave of affection towards your frowny face and your crossed arms. there's his girl, you're still there, still present with your anger and precise words. he would to anything to get you back.

"i know." aemond agrees, slowly. "i promise, i know- and you're right, whatever you decide to do, you're right."

"are you trying to fix us just because you saw me with another guy?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

"no, of course not. not only because of that." he says quickly. "i wanted you back since the first time you walked out. i just didn't have enough courage to talk to you."

"so you're admitting you were being stupid and acting like coward?" you challenge him with two things he hates the thought of being the most.

"it was stupid of me to break up with you." he says slowly. he's gonna have to be a big boy for this. "i was only trying to protect you from my family and- and myself, but i acted cowardly."

"i can protect myself." you say. "i don't need you to decide for me."

"i know that, sweetheart." he smiles. it's a tiny move on his lips, he's always so fond of your independent nature. "i apologise for not speaking things clearly."

it's your turn to smile. you take a step towards him, he stays still. the top buttons of his shirt expose his neck nicely, the chain you got him hanging there. he never let you go. he was only being an idiot. you think you want him back. he can fix his own idiocity by himself, but you want him back.

"what do you want?" you ask with a kind voice like you're teasing. you're not teasing, not in the least but he doesn't know that, does he?

"i want you to be my girlfriend again." he says, straightening his posture. his shoulders are high, his neck long. he feels like a dragon ready to fight for you. "if you'll have me."

you push him softly against the wall behind him and cup his cheeks. he accepts the kiss greedily, changing positions so that your back is against the wall. he makes a rightful mess of your lipstick, his hands on your waist and on the back of your neck. you close your eyes. his scent hits your senses so well, your hand goes to his shoulder to pull him closer.

you break the kiss. "you cannot do the same thing again, okay? you cannot leave me and come back, you cannot think for my place and make my decisions when it comes to you and our relationship."

"okay." he says, his eye closed and his lips following your mouth. "i promise."

"good." you say, pull him for another kiss. it's only been two weeks but you missed him. he feels safe like this, and familiar with his body pressed against yours against the wall of a club. the darkness of the night covers you, your sparkly purse is the only thing that can be seen from a distance.

aemond kisses you like he's been out of breath for so long. he's been a desperate fool for days but now it's over. everything gets clear when he gets you like this, his mind free of worry and anger, all those devilish thoughts that bother him. he's content with his place, he doesn't have to pretend he's okay. it's all real.

"by the way-" you start saying between two lovely kisses. "that guy back there already has a lover named charles. you didn't have to worry about him anyway."

aemond laughs and it's a real laugh, not one of the fake ones he has to throw into aegon's or cole's face. you smile and he kisses your cheek. you hold his hand, he squeezes your fingers.

"i like your dress." he changes the subject, leading you to his car. "is that new?"

"of course it is." you answer, cheekily. "my boyfriend decided to be a jerk for no reason and i had to keep myself busy with something."

aemond had no idea the night could turn into something amazing when he first agreed to come here with cole. he can't keep his hands off you, kisses you against the car this time. he's gotta find a way to make up for the time he made you lost. kissing you and getting you your favorite drink on the way home might be a good start.

he gives you a silent promise to atone his sins between your legs in the following hours.

[answer2jeff]

' treat me tonight '

a/n: this is (debatably) some of the best smut i've ever written but i'm still new to the field ! give ya girl some suggestions if desired.

song : i know we could be so happy baby.

warnings : fluffy smut, fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), piv sex (unprotected), both reader and carmen have a bit of a praise kink, brief hairpulling, the "L-word," established relationship, gets a little rough towards the end, back scratching, porn with no real plot. not proofread

word count: 2.6k+

MDNI : i am not responsible for your media consumption.

NSFW under the cut — last warning!

"Try it," Carmen cupped your jaw as he lifted the wooden spoonful of creamy, tomato soup to your mouth, thumbing your bottom lip gently so you could carefully swallow every last bit. He enjoyed feeding you, if he was being totally honest. Even if this had been upon your request. Making his girl happy with what he did best was nothing short of a blessing to him.

"Mmm," you hummed in amusement, swallowing before smiling contently and nodding your head. "'S great, Carmy. Fuckin' delicious."

Long days at work dealing with insensitive clientele and immature coworkers seemed to be so easily remedied by Carmen's cooking. You weren't sure if it was because it was him catering to you and loving you the one way he always knew how, or if the food was just that fucking amazing. Maybe a little bit if both.

"Yeah? Alright," he chuckled a bit, grabbing the ladle beside the pot and scooping the simple, yet beautifully crafted tomato soup into a ceramic bowl. He seemed to know exactly how you liked it, despite him asking you if you enjoyed it every. single. time.

You accepted the bowl with a sickly sweet smile on your face, giving Carmen a kiss on his clean shaven cheek to thank him for his gesture before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen counter. Carmen just stood with his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned against the dining table, candidly watching you enjoy the warm bowl of soup

"So," you slurped some of the soup as you paused, "I'm thinkin' of giving Syd that top we found the other day."

Thrifting had become of recent liking to you anD Carmen. Just shopping and mooching around Chicago in search of vintage pieces. Mostly to actually wear, but partly to collect or regift to fellow friends. Last time you two had a day off, you found a beautiful vintage button down. A white base with downward blue stripes with a finely stitched breast pocket containing a 'V' pattern. The cuffs were cinched perfectly. It was a little baggy, too, which you knew Sydney would love.

"Ooh, yeah. I, uh, I really liked that. I think she'd really love it," Carmen nodded, "You gonna get 'er somethin' else with it? Like, to pair with it? Or just the shirt?"

"I was gonna ask you to help me with that, actually," you pointed a finger to Carmen, turning away for just a moment to gently place the empty bowl and spoon into the kitchen sink.

Carmen always thought you had a good eye for other people's tastes. Not just in fashion. The world seemed unpredictable to Carmy. But you made it look so easy, so loving to just know what people wanted. He always wished he had that kind of understanding for people. But for now, he'd admire such a trait you had.

"Hm?"

"I remember she mentioned something about having all these cool tops n' jackets and such, but, like—hardly any nice pants other than those fuckin' jeans she loves."

"Mhm," he stepped closer to you and planted his hands on your shoulders. But you soon reached for them and planted them on your hips, earning a little upward curl of his lip.

"I know you loved those nice jeans like they were your babies 'till you had to sell them," you frowned, entangling your fingers in his messy, blonde curls while your other hand rested on the back of his neck.

"Fuck, I know. Really wish I didn't have to," he tried to let out a breathy laugh to compensate for the genuine disappointment.

Fuck, did he love those pants. Pants were the one piece of fashion Carmen didn't have to second guess himself on. From jeans to slacks, he knew how to pair every possible fabric. And he never knew how to flatter the upper half of his body, so he always wore those dammed white t-shirts.

Not that you were complaining.

Especially right now, the t-shirt highlighting his broad shoulders and exposing his thick arms plastered with sentimental tattoos you always loved. You began to run your hands up and down the exposed skin. He glanced down at your patterned touch, flattered.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, anyway, I need you to help me look for a nice pair of jeans for Sydney. Can y'do that for me, hun?"

Carmen nodded rapidly, his eyes drifting from your lips and back into your eyes. His thumbs rubbed intricate little circles of adoration into your thighs.

"Yeah, baby," he smiled. "This weekend, maybe? I can take a couple hours," tilting his head, he held your chin to pull your face just inches away from his own. Something about your tendencies to make the ones you loved happy with little surprises just warmed him.

"Mhm. That works," you sighed, planting a soft kiss on his lips before wrapping your arms around his neck.

Carmens immediate suggestion just struck something in you. Months ago, he would've thrown excuse after excuse (although valid) as to when he couldn't be available, but never when he could. You felt proud of him.

"You're so good to me, Carmen."

"Yeah?"

He was learning. He was loving.

"Mhm," you barred your bottom lip behind your teeth, giving Carmen's arms a squeeze. He exhaled sharply and wondered where this could've been going.

You drove him a little crazier than he ever liked to admit. A delicate hand reached away from your hip and up to your face. He thumbed your bottom lip, the reflection of the kitchen light shining against your mouth that was glossy with a mix of both of your salivas. Carmen gazed at you in awe, a little embarrassed when he realized how long he'd been staring.

"I—" he shrugged, struggling to find the words, "I'd do it all for you, baby."

Whispering back as he began to cave in, he leaned into your neck and placing an opened mouth kiss on the skin. The smell of your perfume and the natural scent of your body was so familiar to him. It distracted him enough to let his hands roam up and down your torso before repeating that same motion on your thighs.

"Want you t.." you swallowed, your eyes shutting harshly when when he sucked a bruising hickey onto your skin.

"Want me to what, sweet girl?" Carmen mumbled, the butterflies in your stomach raging when his teeth grazed against the spot. You gently anchored your hand into his hair and pulled him away from your neck so you could see him again.

"Want you to treat me tonight," you whispered as your hands travled up to his shoulders.

He wished you could be more specific. But with your pretty eyes, your kiss-swollen lips, your thighs spread against the cold marble counter as they spilled out of your cotton shorts, how could he tease you any longer?

"That I can do."

—

Carmens body seemed to loosen up and relax as his rough hand slid down lower on your back to grab at the waistband of your shorts. You practically melted to his touch. He kissed you again, smiling against your lips as you giggled into the kiss once he slid your shorts down to your ankles. You nodded when he pulled away, ensuring him that he was on the right track.

"Need you t'spread, baby," his hand pried between your soft thighs.

"O—okay," You bit the inside of your cheek as you slowly spread your legs apart. The wet spot of arousal in the middle of your panties was completely in view now. Feeling Carmen's eyes drifting downward, you accidentally drew your knees closer together again.

"Hey," Carmen whispered while he looked into your eyes for an answer, despite your gaze being glued to the floor.

"You okay? We don't have to do thi—"

"No, no," you shook your head, "I want to. Just..not used to it. That's all."

It was true. You'd only tried oral about twice. And it went great, you couldn't deny. But you still struggled to literally open yourself up to him. You just needed a little encouragement.

"You don't have to hide, baby. You look—you are beautiful," he kissed your forehead, "so, so beautiful. Okay?"

Finally feeling some reassurance, you tried again. You spread your legs once again and let Carmen peel your soaked panties down your legs to where your shorts had been. He gave you one last look to see if you were ready, to which you happily nodded.

In the sweetest gesture, Carmen removed his own t-shirt so you wouldn't be alone. He unbuttoned his jeans and tossed them somewhere near the dining table, being left in just his boxers that outlined his slowly hardening cock.

"Thank you," you chuckled.

"Of course."

Carmen began trailing kisses from your neck down to your shoulder blade. His hands gently lifted your tank top over your head before cupping one of your breasts, his fingertips playing with your hard nipple as he kissed you one last time. He sank down to his knees, hooking your calves over his shoulders. You scooted a little closer to the edge of the counter to give him the best access to your throbbing cunt.

"Yep. Right here, baby."

He had you exactly where he wanted you.

You finally looked down at him after avoiding direct eye contact for the past few minutes. His blue eyes fully encapsulated you. He looked gorgeous between your thighs. Especially when he sucked little hickeys that wouldn't actually last against your inner thighs that made you squirm.

"You look pretty like this, bear," your hand reached to brush a loose curl out of his face. The flush that colored his pale cheeks was cute.

"You think so?" Carmen grinned. He relished in the feeling of having such gentle yet everlasting control. In his own kitchen, his beautiful girl in his hands, her thighs around his head, fully willing and wanting to let him take every part of her he could ever imagine.

You were nothing short of perfect to him.

Not wanting to waste any more time, and without preamble, he licked a bold stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit. Your breath hitched in your throat when his grip on your thighs tightened. He started to create a sense of rhythm, roughly sucking on the sensitive mound of nerve endings before soothing it with kitten licks and flat-tongued strides.

Your hand tugged at a handful of his curls. He groaned at the sensation, swirling his tongue around you to feel every fucking inch of your pussy.

"Fuck, Carmy..."

"You got the prettiest pussy, baby. So good and wet for me," he mumbled against you, his eyes still remaining closed. He needed to focus, or else he might fall apart at the sight of pure, filthy pleasure on your pretty face.

"Shut up—" you protested.

Your thighs began to shake as your head reeled back. Carmen hesitated for a moment, wiggling his fingers around anxiously before pulling his mouth away from your vulva and ever so carefully slipping in 2 large fingers.

A long, drawn out moan escaped your mouth the moment he curled his fingers upward into your g-spot. The idea of staying quiet was out of the fucking question. Oh, and now that Carmen's tongue was back on you? Forget it.

"Oh my fucking g—fuck!" you smacked your hand over your mouth, your other hand still entangled in your lovers hair. Pulling and tugging and earning the sexiest groans you'd ever heard in your life.

The sound of your voice slowly raising in pitch was enough for Carmen to change his pace. He inched himself even closer, and at an otherworldly speed flicked his tongue repeatedly against your clit. Over. And over. And over again. But his fingers slowed down to avoid overstimulating you. He needed this to last. Blissfully.

The knot in your stomach that indicated your teeter against your orgasm taunted you.

"Carm, I'm—" you took a short breath moaning incohereant babbles along the lines of 'so fuckin' good, just like that, baby' until you blurted, "I'm probably not gonna last any longer..'S too much."

You'd grown so desperate to cum that your hips ground back and forth, the tip of Carmens tongue perfectly brushing against your sensitive clit while he used the hand that was once fucking you to squeeze the fat of your breast. With his other hand, he reached down to palm his throbbing cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. He pulled his erection out from the cloth and stroked himself slowly, the final moan of "fuck," shortly followed by your name before he harshly sucked on your clit once more, was enough to throw you over the edge.

"Oh, fuck, Carmy!"

After the last couple minutes of him practically making out with your pussy, your body finally allowed itself to release, your legs shaking vigourisly as you tried desparately to catch your breath. You could literally feel a pulse-like sensation on your clit from the orgasm.

It was dirty, filthy; cumming on Carmen's pretty face right on top of his kitchen counter.

But fuck, was it hot.

—

"You think you got another one left in there for me, baby?" Carmen cooed, wrapping your legs around his hips and drawing you in so close that your breasts were pressed against his bare chest. He peppered kisses along your jaw until he resided on your lips, his tongue slipping in to create a sloppy, passionate mess of a kiss.

His clothed hard-on pressed against your clit, which was nearly fully recovered, lacking the overwhelming sensitivity it had just a couple minutes ago.

"Maybe you should find out," you teased against his ear, nipping at the skin of his neck right underneath. You gently pressed your hand against his chest, backing him up just the slightest bit so you could slip his pre-cum soaked boxers with ease.

Without another thought, Carmen carefully lined himself up with your pussy. The head of his dick passed between your folds to build anticipation. Your hands gripped his shoulders, slippery with sweat, once he finally began to push his raw cock into your hole, your arousal serving as a perfect lubricant.

"Fuck," he rasped as he watched his cock disappear into your pussy in awe "so fuckin' tight for me. So pretty n' perfect."

The two of you hardly waited to allow every thrust and slap of skin against skin get messy and rough. With Carmen desperately needing to cum and you anxiously needing to feel him inside of you, there wasn't much consideration for a slow fuck.

"Fuck me, Carmen."

With that, Carmen dug his hands into your hips and pulled several inches out of you before slamming back in. You somehow moaned louder every time. His face contorted to pure, ravenous pleasure and lust as moan and groan after groan writhed from his throat. Your nails clawed at his back, earning a "shit," and his teeth sinking into your shoulder as you ground back and forth against him to achieve the perfect thrusting angle.

"I love you," he whimpered, fucking whimpered his adoration for you. He was completely pussy drunk, his thrusts turning fast and short unlike they were when they started out.

Those words made your heart pound in your head. Sure, you'd exchanged 'I love you's' during the last year or so of your relationship, but you couldn't recall a time it was said during rough-kitchen-counter-sex.

"I love you so fuckin' much, Carm," you sobbed in a fit of utter horniness and overwhelming sense of pleasure, feeling Carmen's thick cock and squeezing your warm, gummy walls around him.

"I'm gonna cum, angel, I—"

"I know, baby. Go ahead. W-want you to fill me up."

Almost as if the universe had been working specifically in your favor, you managed to reach your orgasm just seconds before he did. Every drop of your arousal went down his thigh, while his cum perfectly filled up your cunt. He pulled out slowly watching the white and sticky semen drip down your hole.

"Was that your idea of me 'treating you' tonight?"

[katsukistofu]

pls write more megumi!!!! i love how you wrote your recent fic ugh hes so perfecttttt

your wish is my command <3 tysm for enjoying sweetheart i’m glad you liked it ! :)

here comes the sun

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ m. fushiguro x fem reader. fluff. ★ car rides are more bearable when they’re with you.

It’s barely five minutes into the drive and Megumi’s already thinking that Itadori needs to have his license revoked. For life.

His hand darts over to cup the side of your head with a gentle yet firm grip, almost reflexively at this point, stopping you from hurling into the sidedoor after a particularly nasty jostle, for the third curse-forsaken time in a row.

“I think you missed running over a curb back there.” Megumi says dryly in the direction of the front seat.

A cool, summer breeze ruffles his hair as he carefully readjusts your head so instead of lolling to the side, it’s resting on his shoulder. There. That should be much more comfortable for you.

“Hey!” Itadori protests, hands a bit shaky on the wheel. He’s wearing pajama pants with little Spider-mans on them. “I’ve never been in a fancy car without a roof. I’m just getting used to her, that's all.”

“Her?”

“Yeah. Donna.”

Megumi arches a brow. “You named the car.”

“I mean that’s what sensei called her.”

“…Of course he did.”

“Can you two shut up?” Nobara hisses. She’s clad in her own Powerpuff Girl pajamas and Her eyes are still covered by the pink sleep mask that came as a matching set with your pants but you gave it to her instead . “We’re trying to sleep.”

“You are. She’s been knocked out.” Itadori points at you, who’s clinging onto Megumi’s arm like a koala.

“Only because I made sure you wouldn’t wake her up with your shitty driving.” Megumi scowls, curling a protective arm around your waist as the car swerves a little too far left for his liking. His Batman pajama pants brush against your Hello Kitty ones as his thigh bumps against yours, and if you were awake he knew you’d make a joke about them kissing.

“Eyes on the road, idiot.”

Itadori huffs and turns back around to face the wheel. Thankfully you’re still snoozing away, although the way you’re nuzzling into his neck is starting to make him feel a little warm.

Maybe he should have taken his jacket off and put it on top of your blanket.

They pass a herd of cows and Megumi can’t help the upward tug of his lips, remembering your excited squeals when they passed one earlier just an hour ago, chanting ‘Gumi look, Gumi look!’

“I see them,” he had said, more focused on readjusting your seat belt that had somehow unbuckled itself.

With a grin you pointed to a pair that was grazing near a patch of berry bushes. “Those two kind of look like us.”

He finally looks up after making sure you’re safely fastened, hand still softly resting on your waist.

“You’re right, one looks like it doesn’t even know it’s eating grass.”

The pleasant memory of your giggles are drowned out and he narrows his eyes as of course, Itadori and Nobara choose that moment to crank up the radio. It’s a band he never cared for, but remembers the name of along with the lyrics to a few songs because he knows they’re your favorite.

“Turn. It. Down.” Megumi mouths at them, but it’s too late and you’re already starting to blearily open your eyes. The boy that has you tucked beside him sighs in defeat.

On your side of the car, the sun is starting to set and it casts a soft, golden glow like a blanketed halo on your cheekbones down to the tip of your nose, to your cute lips. The rays caress your face in a way he only does in the privacy of his room, with you gently pinned underneath him.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Itadori grins, handing his phone to you. “Can you check if I’m going the right way real quick?”

You lean forward and blink against Megumi’s strong arm that’s suddenly in front of you, still half-asleep.

“Don’t tell her to do it, dipshit, she just woke up.” He glares at Itadori, taking the phone from him instead and taps the screen a few times. With his head leaning to the other side once he rests back into his seat, he wordlessly makes space for you to rest yours on his shoulder again and you do so happily.

“You were supposed to make a U-turn ten minutes ago.” Megumi deadpans as you yawn, still drowsy from your nap.

“Oh fuck.”

The four of you are finally at the picnic site, after what seems like driving for hours.

“Megumi!” You bound up to him like an overexcited puppy, and he bites back a laugh at your eagerness to show him whatever you found. “Close your eyes.”

If it was Itadori or Nobara, he would have definitely asked “Why?” before they pulled another one of their endless pranks on him but since it's you, he shuts them.

There’s a cool sensation that glides against his ear, and he realizes it’s a petal. You’re tucking a flower into his hair, you must’ve found it under the tree where they parked. His eyes flutter open and he’s met with your familiar, adoring stare that never fails to twist his stomach into knots.

“It’s a peach blossom. Pretty, um, like you.” You mumble, suddenly shy as he gazes down at you with the barest hint of a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

No one’s around, Itadori and Nobara have long gone to find the perfect spot to set down the blanket, and Megumi brushes a quick kiss to your temple.

“Thank you.”

The peace of the afternoon is short lived when he walks with you to meet up with Nobara and Itadori, who have somehow attracted a group of ducks from the nearby pond. One nips at Itadori’s butt, who narrowly manages to dodge it while Nobara is holding her Balenciaga purse high out of the feathered menaces reaches. “Stop that, this was almost two hundred thousand yen!”

Megumi rolls his eyes and barely manages to stifle a snort. He holds your own purse that he’s been carrying this whole time steady for you as you dig into it and whip a paper grocery bag out.

“I have lettuce, don't worry guys!”

His midnight blue eyes glint with fondness as they follow your figure when you bend down to feed the ducks and kindly lead them away from the food that’s sprawled out on the picnic blanket, talking to them like you would with a baby kitten.

Oh he’s going to kiss you breathless later.

Nobara and Itadori nearly fall to your feet. “Our savior!” They cry in unison and you laugh, patting them both on the back. Your best friend then gets up and smacks Itadori with the side of her bag.

“I told you we should have left the chips in the car! Those ducks could have choked to death and it’d all be your fault.”

Your other best friend pouts. “But they were pizza flavored, I wanted to savor them under the flowers!”

“Ew.” Nobara says, already shoving one of them in her mouth, and she holds another chip up to your lips for you to try. “They taste gross, right?”

You chew thoughtfully, and sneak your hand into the open bag to get a few to feed Megumi. “Hm. Could be better.”

“Yeah it's kind of lacking,” Megumi says, his soft lips brushing against your fingers as he takes his another cautious bite.

“Don’t you three say that with your mouth full!”

─────────

So the car got towed.

Gojo’s fuming and Megumi’s pretty sure he’s going to try grounding the four of you, but with a simple bribe of his favorite zunda and cream kikufuku courtesy of your culinary skills his forgiveness is easily attainable.

He absentmindedly wonders if you knead the delicious dough you make from scratch the same way you randomly pinch his cheeks.

The glow of the passing streetlights behind him reflects in your eyes like a thousand tiny, shooting stars and when he looks into them he swears he can see the Milky Way. They’re fighting to stay open after you tiredly slump onto the train’s last empty seat, sandwiched between Nobara and Itadori’s already dozing forms who were scrolling through nail art ideas with you just moments before as he occasionally made comments when you prompted him to, “Would look cute on you” and “That color’s nice” falling from his lips. His eyes soften as he looks at you.

“Gumi…” You softly murmur and his head perks up.

“Yeah?” He leans in closer to hear you, and bites back a chuckle as you mumble something unintelligible. “It’s okay, go to sleep. I’ll stand here and watch you guys.”

“M’kay. ‘Night ‘night, love you.” Is all you whisper before passing out.

“I love you too,” Megumi mutters under his breath, low enough so that it falls on no one else’s ears in the car. You can’t hear him because you fell asleep before you could, but he doesn’t care, he says it anyway and hopes that as his words linger in the air it brings you sweet dreams.

He notices the faint goosebumps on your thighs and takes off his jacket in one swift motion to cover your lap. You’re wearing a shorter skirt than usual today, and like hell he’d let you freeze because of the train’s air conditioning.

His burning eyes flick up from your unaware, adorably blissful face to shoot a scathing glare at the man who’s been glancing your way since you got on the train, and steps closer to shield you entirely from his view. The intimidated stranger looks away quickly, and a small, victorious smirk makes it way across his lips.

That’s right you were his girl, and he’s going to make damn sure everyone knows that.

[hypnagogics]

read part two here! series masterlist here!

currently thinking about how modern!ellie would be such a like “hallway crush” type…OKAY WAIT i have an idea, picture this: it's the first day of classes, and you're on your way to your university's astrophysics lecture hall and see her, walking briskly to her destination, with big black headphones (listening to divorced dad rock, of course) seemingly in her own world, not even aware of how cool she is in the moment. she passes you, walking only a little faster than you are, but it gives you time to check her out a bit. she's wearing some dark wash jeans and a flannel with a chunky jacket over top, her beat up bag slung over one shoulder(because shes just too kewl for skewl), and her signature worn black converse. as you follow her into the hall, (not being creepy, you're just on the same path. oh, seems like you're classmates too…oop!), she enters first, then holds the door for you as you file in behind her, looking back, meeting your eyes, and giving you a small nod as a greeting. (one of those that guys do, like when they tilt their chin up for a split-second as a bro greeting, UGH THE ENGLISH EXPLANATIONS ARE ESCAPING ME i do not know the ways of the men but yall have seen that nod thing they do, right?) that would happen in a fraction of a moment and you'd go to smile back at this beautiful stranger, but by the time you collect yourself she's already looking forward again. oh and then the two of you would part ways and sit on opposite sides of the room, however she'd still be on your mind…and whenever you cast glances her way, she'd seem interested in what the professor is talking about, but you'd then realize you're staring and bring your eyes back to your own laptop....

☆: hi, i have SO many ideas for drabbles and stuff but they rarely translate onto paper how I imagine them to go, but I'm sure that comes with time and practice, but for now take this silly idea I jotted down as it crossed my mind...I need her so bad, wish she was real 😔 (half hoping a situation like this happens to me LMAO...but crushes are too much stress....) BUTTTTT this drabble thingy got them creative juices flowing, and now im highly tempted to make a series or more parts to hallway crush ellie ...I say that every time but this idea's bouncing around in my skull and won't leave so who knows...

[wolverigrl]

Party (1)

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: Sooo this part was written right after clubbing, and I may got carried away, which why I divided it into two parts. The next part should be online on Monday or Tuesday! So stay tuned! :)

Warnings: smut (not completely detailed), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), mentions of alcohol, some swearing, mentions of pregnancy

Not proofread!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

---------------------------------------------------

It's happening. I'm officially a year older today. Honestly, I don't even feel the change. Except for maybe the overwhelming sense of everything right now - the music, the laughter, the champagne that seems to be in my hand all the time - and him. Especially him. Hugh.

The night feels like a dream, but it's real - my birthday, my party. I rented this entire club for the occasion, and it's filled to the brim with friends, the people I care about, the ones who've been there through everything. Some are people I used to only see on screens, in magazines, but now they're real, they're here, and they're celebrating me. It's surreal.

The cast of The Greatest Showman showed up early, and I've barely had amoment to myself. Zac and Zendaya are dancing like they don't have a care in the world. Keala's by the bar, harmonizing with the DJ's set like only she can. Everywhere I turn, someone new is pulling me in for a hug, giving me a gift, toasting to me and wishing me all the best.

"Happy birthday, y/n!" Another friend comes up to me - one of the faces I vaguely recognize through the blur of champagne and flashing lights. They hand me a beautifully wrapped gift, and I accept it with a smile, although my mind is elsewhere. I'm grateful, of course, but the attention, the noise, the constant flow of people - it's overwhelming.

But my eyes always drift back to him. Hugh.

I catch a glimpse of him near the bar, his tall, broad frame leaning casually as he sips martini, talking to Ryan. The way the dim lights catch his features - sharp jawline, eyes that sparkle with a mischievous glint - it's like time slows down when I see him. My heart speeds up, a familiar heat spreading through me. It's not the alcohol. It's him.

I can't stop thinking about him, not tonight. There's something about the way he looks, how he moves in that perfectly tailored suit that drives me crazy. Maybe it's because I've had one too many glasses of champagne, or maybe it's just that he's Hugh and he's everything I want right now. I'm feeling it, that hormonal pull that still won't quit. It's like I'm on fire, and he's the only one who can put it out.

Our eyes meet across the room. A slow, easy smile spreads across his lips, and I feel a rush of heat flood through me. God, he's gorgeous. I feel myself gravitating toward him before I even realize what I'm doing weaving through the crowd.

"Enjoying your party, love?" His voice is low when I reach him, the deep itmbre sending shivers down my spine. He leans in, his breath warm against my ear, and I inhale the familiar scent of him - something earthy, masculine, mixed with the faintest hint of martini.

"I would be enjoying it a lot more if you weren't all the way over here." I murmur, my fingers finding the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer.

Hugh laughs softly, his hand sliding around my waist with such ease it feels like second nature.

"Oh, I see. Is the birthday girl feeling a little. neglected?"

"Maybe." I tease, but the truth is, it's not just that. It's everything. I feel wound up, my body buzzing from the alcohol, the excitement, and from him. The way his hand rests so possessively on my waist. The way his eyes darken just a bit when I lean in closer and my chest brushing against his.

He's trying to play it cool, but I know him too well. He feels it too, this spark between us that's been burning hotter as the night goes on. And right now, I can't think of anything but us.

I press my body against his, my lips just grazing his ear as I whisper.

"You know, I've been thinking about you all night."

His grip tightens on my waist, his thumb brushing my hip in a way that makes me bite my lip.

"Oh is that so?" His voice is teasing, but there's an edge to it now, something darker and more primal.

"Mmhmm" I hum, letting my hands drift up his chest, feeling the firmness of his body beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. My fingers toy with his collar, brushing against his skin.

"I can't stop thinking about how good you look in this suit."

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound hat vibrates through my body.

"You're playing with fire, baby."

"Oh I like the burn." I grin.

For a moment, we're just standing here, locked in this invisible dance of tension and desire, the noise of he party fading into the background. My fingers slip into his hair, tugging lightly, and I can feel the way his breath catches in response. He doesn't move, just looks at me with that slow smoldering gaze that makes my knees feel weak.

"Y/n.." he murmurs, his voice a little rough now, like he's barely holding himself back. "We're at your birthday party. You do realize that?"

I grin, pressing my hips against him as I lean up to whisper in his ear, "And what do you wanna do about that?"

His hand grips my waist tighter pulling me even closer, his mouth so close to mine I can feel his breath against my lips.

"You're trouble, you know that?"

"Only for you, baby."

Before I can say anything else, the music changes, and I feel the beat thrum through my body, pulling me onto the dance floor. Hugh follows, his hands on my hips as we move together.

Dancing with him feels like the most natural thing in the world. Every sway of my hips, every turn, it's like our bodies are in sync, perfectly attuned to each other. I can feel the heat of his hands on my skin, even through the fabric of my dress, and it makes me ache for more.

I turn in his arms, pressing my back against his chest and grinding against him as the music pulses around us. His hands tighten on my hips pulling me back harder against him, and I can feel his breath on my neck, hot and heavy.

"Y/n.." he whispers in my ear, voice strained but playful.

"You're making it very hard to be a gentleman right now."

A wicked smile curves my lips. I glance over my shoulder, giving him a sultry look. "Who said I want you to be a gentleman?"

His eyes darken, the playful glint replaced by something more primal. He presses a kiss to my neck, just below my ear, sending goosebumps down my arms. I turn in his arms, facing him fully, and pull him into another kiss, this one deeper, more intense, oblivious to the crowd dancing around us

He groans softly into the kiss, his hands sliding down my sides and his fingers gripping my hips like he's trying to keep some semblance of control. But I can feel him losing it, just as much as I am. The way his body presses into mine, the heat between us - it's almost unbearable.

The music blurs into the background, and all I can think about is the feel of him behind me. His body moving with mine, the way his hands seem to leave trails of fire on my skin. I look up, our lips just inches apart.

"We should stop.." he murmurs though his grip on me doesn't loosen. If anything, he pulls me closer.

I tilt my head up, brushing my lips against his in the barest of touches, teasing.

"Do you really want to?"

He doesn't answer with words. Instead, his mouth crashes against mine, and I lose myself in the taste of him. My hands are in his hair, tugging him closer, and I can feel the way his body tenses against mine, like he's holding back everything he wants to do.

I know we're still in the middle of the dance floor, but I don't care. Right now, it's just him and me, lost in the heat of the moment. I deepen the kiss, letting my tongue slide against hus, and he groans into my mouth, pulling me even closer, if that's even possible.

After what feels like an eternity, we finally pull away from the dance floor. My head is spinning, but not only from the champagne. I grab his hand, pulling him toward the photobooth in the corner of the club.

"Come on, let's do something fun!" I say with a playful grin, tugging him inside.

He laughs, following me into the cramped space. The curtain closes pehind us, and I waste no time climbing onto his lap, my legs straddling his.

"Smile for the camera!" I say, sticking my tongue out at him just as the first flash goes off.

We make silly faces for the next few shots - sticking our tongues out crossing our eyes - but I can feel the tension building between us again. My body is still humming from the dancing, the closeness, the way his hands feel on my thighs, even through the fabric of my dress.

I lean in for the next shot, kissing his cheek, but it doesn't stop there. The kiss lingers, my lips trailing down to his jaw, his neck, and I can feel the way his breath hitches beneath me.

"Love.." he breathes, his hands sliding up my thighs, gripping them tightly. "You're really trying to drive me crazy tonight, aren't you?"

smile against his skin, my lips brushing his ear as I whisper, "Maybe."

The camera flashes again, but we're not paying attention anymore. My mouth finds his, and the kiss quickly turns heated, desperate. His hands slide up my sides, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. I can feel him hard against me, and it only makes me want him more.

I grind against him, and he groans softly, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I know I'II have bruises tomorrow. But I don't care. All I care about is the feel of him beneath me, the way his mouth moves against mine and the way his hands are everywhere at once.

We're lost in each other, so caught in the heat of the moment that I barely register the curtain ripping open. It takes a second for reality to hit, but when it does, it's not subtle.

"Hey! No funny business in there!" a voice teases, giggling as it echoes in the small booth.

I freeze, still straddling Hugh, our lips inches apart, our breathing heavy. I look up and find Chris standing there with his brother Scott, both grinning like they've just caught us in the act - because, well, they pretty much have.

"Really, guys?" I groan, burying my face in Hugh's neck in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. Hugh chuckles, his chest vibrating beneath me, still catching his breath.

Chris gives me an exaggerated wink. "What? Thought we'd come join the party. The booth's big enough for four, right?"

"Get out of here, man!" Hugh says with a laugh, shaking his head, though he's still holding onto me like he has no intention of letting go. His hands remain firm on my waist and his body warm beneath mine. Scott leans against the doorway of the booth, grinning. "You know, we're happy for you two, but maybe save the PDA for after the birthday cake?"

I roll my eyes and slide off Hugh's lap, standing up and adjusting my dress, trying not to look too flustered.

"Fine, fine. The booth is yours!"

Hugh stands up behind me, smoothing down his suit and running a hand through his hair. He's got that mischievous glint in his eyes, though one that tells me this is far from over.

"Have fun!" he says, stepping out of the booth, his hand slipping into mine as we head back toward the party. I squeeze his fingers, unable to hide the grin on my face. But as we walk away, I feel the heat between us still simmering beneath the surface. It's like every brush of his hand against mine, every glance he gives me, is charged with electricity. I don't think either of us is done with what we started.

We slip into a quieter area of the club, tucked away from the noise of the party.

There's a small storage room just off the side of the main hallway, dimly lit, the perfect place to catch our breath and maybe finish what we started.

Inside the storage room, it's cramped and cluttered, a stark contrast to the opulent club just outside. The air smells faintly of cleaning products and dust. Shelves ine the walls, stacked with supplies - boxes, extra bottles of liquor, random equipment that looks untouched for months. There's a small, rickety table in the corner, just big enough for me to sit on, though it Iooks like it could collapse at any moment.

Hugh's hands are on me the second the door clicks shut. His lips find mine in a fierce, hungry kiss, and the world around us fades into a blur of heat and need. His fingers grip my tips, pulling me against him, and can feel the hardness of him through his pants, pressing insistently against me, The urgency between us is undeniable, like we've been holding back all night and can't wait another second.

He guides me backward, and stumble slightly as my back hits the edge of the small table, my breath catching. His mouth leaves a scorching trail along my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin where my shoulder meets my collarbone. I shiver, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

"I need you." I whisper, my voice breathy and desperate.

His response is a low growl vibrating against my skin. "God, y/n.. I need you too. I've needed you all night."

With one swift motion, he lifts me onto the table, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. The table creaks beneath me, unsteady from our combined weight, but neither of us cares. His hands slide up my thighs, pushing my dress higher, bunching it around my hips.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me." he murmurs against my ear, his voice thick with desire. His nands grip my waist, and his lips brush my neck again, leaving a trail of heat wherever he touches.

"I've been thinking about you.. imagining this.. every second of tonight."

A soft moan escapes my lips as his fingers tease the edge of my panties, and I arch my back, pressing against him. "Hugh please.."

Hugh's mouth crashes back onto mine swallowing my words. He fumbles with his belt, the leather slipping through the loops with a soft hiss, and the sound alone makes my pulse race. I can feel the tension in his body, the way his hands shake slightly with need, and it drives me wild.

He pulls my panties to the side, and I gasp as his fingers slide against me, teasingly testing.

"Fuck. You're so wet." he whispers, his voice hoarse. His fingers dip inside me briefly, making me gasp.

"And all for me?"

"Only for you baby.." I manage to say parely able to form the words through the haze of desire.

I need you, Hugh. Now."

With a groan, he frees himself from his pants, and I feel the hot, hard length of him pressing against my thigh. His fingers dig into my hips as he positions himself at my entrance, and I bite my lip, already rembling with anticipation.

"Tell me what you want." he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. "Say it."

"I want you." I breathe, my voice shaking with need.

"I want you to fuck me."

He pushes inside me slowly, inch by inch, and my head falls back as a moan escapes my lips. The sensation of him filling me is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretches me and takes me.

"Fucking hell, y/n." he groans, his forehead pressed against mine as he bottoms out inside me.

"You feel...so fucking good."

The table creaks beneath us, swaying slightly from our movements, but I barely notice. My legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he begins to move slow at first, then harder, faster, until the rhythm of his thrusts matches the beat of the music still thudding through the walls. With every movement, I feel the tension building inside me, winding tighter and tighter until l'm on the verge of breaking. Hugh's hands roam my body, gripping my thighs my hips, sliding up to cup my breasts through my dress. His lips find mine again, his tongue tangling with mine as he thrusts into me with a desperation that mirrors my own.

"You make me feel so good.." I whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders.

"Don't stop... please, don't stop.."

His hand slides down to grip my ass pulling me harder against him as he thrusts deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I love you, y/n." he groans, his voice rough with need. "I fucking love you."

"I love you, Hugh." I whisper, my body trembling as I hold onto him for dear life.

"I love you so much."

We're completely lost in each other now, the world around us disappearing as we move together and the table creaking loudly beneath us.

At one point, I hear something fall - a bottle or maybe a box knocked off one of the shelves - but neither of us cares. We're too far gone, too wrapped up in the heat of the moment to think about anything else.

His thrusts become more erratic, harder, faster, and I feel the tension inside me snap.

My climax crashes through me, sending waves of pleasure rippling through every nerve in my body. I cry out, my nails raking down his back as I hold on, riding the wave of ecstasy.

Hugh groans loudly as he follows me over the edge, his body tensing as he thrusts one last time, his release hot and deep inside me. We're both shaking, breathless, our bodies pressed so tightly together it's like we're one.

For at few moments, we - just stay like that, holding each other with our foreheads pressed together as we try to catch our breath. The room is silent now, save for the sound of our breathing, the faint thump of music still vibrating through the walls.

After a long moment, Hugh pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and intense as he looks at me. He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips.

"You're amazing." he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

I smile, my heart still racing. "So are you."

He kisses me again, but this time slower and sweeter, like he's savoring the moment. Then, with a soft laugh he pulls back and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief.

"Here, love." he says with a grin, his back pocket and pulling out a handkerchief. It's such a gentlemanly gesture, one that makes me laugh softly. He helps me clean up, his touch careful and respectful, and I can't help but feel a rush of affection for him in that moment.

"Always prepared, huh?" I tease, running a hand through his tousled hair, which is still slightly damp with sweat from our heated encounter.

"I like to think so." he replies with a wink, adjusting his pants and redoing his belt.

He then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer while kissing softly my forehead.

"You okay?" he murmurs, his voice soft.

smile, my heart still pounding 'More than okay.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to my forehead before slowly puling away and helping me straighten out my dress. We both fumble with our clothes trying to make ourselves look at least somewhat presentable, but I can't stop myself from smoothing his shirt, adjusting his tie, and brushing a hand through his hair.

"You're fussing." He says with a lazy smile while his hands find my waist again. "They're going to know we've been up to something."

"I don't care!" I laugh softly, though I can feel my cheeks flushing. I tug on his shirt collar one last time, making sure everything is back in place.

Then, he looks at me with that familiar softness in his eyes, the intensity from earlier replaced with something deeper. His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin, and for a moment, we just stand there in the dim light, staring at each other like the rest of the world doesn't exist.

"What if you were pregnant?"

...

- to be continued -

---------------------------------------------------

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sylviavf @bethexo07

Next part

[blegh-110]

ii. "you told me i was pretty when i looked like a mess" | Sam Monroe

Pairing: older brother's best friend!Sam Monroe x fem!reader

Summary: Best friend’s older brother!Sam Monroe who you could always count on when you were 13 and he was 15.

Warnings: None

Word count: 976

Next Part

Your hands shook as you applied some tinted lip balm, the tube almost slipping out of your hand because of the sweat forming. 

It was the night of the school’s winter dance, and you were asked to go with a boy who was in your Spanish class. He sat in front of you and always asked to copy your homework, and you’d oblige because every single time he’d say “you’re amazing” and “what what I do without you?” And the occasional tease, “these better be right, or i'm gonna have to ask someone else.” 

It felt too good to be true when he asked you to go with him to the dance, but he was just so nice to you when you saw him. In the end, it was too good to be true when you overheard his friends ask him why he chose you and not the girl he actually liked. 

“She’s been letting me copy her homework, I thought this could be like a ‘thank you’.” 

“But it’s fucking awkward, none of us know her, our dates don’t either, and she’s not really talking. She's just there.”  

You did feel out of place the entire time. Apparently the girl he liked was friends with the other guys dates, they all ran in the same circle and you were the odd one out. While they had their inside jokes and well established friendships, you barely knew your own date. And he didn’t really bother to include you. So you did end up just sitting and listening and wishing you could partake. 

The second you found out his true reasoning to ask you out, the tears came and you wanted to go home. But how? Your date’s mother was the one to drop everyone off. Your brother was out with his girlfriend, and you knew he’d be pissed if he had to leave and pick up his crying, little sister. And the last thing you wanted was to get bombarded with questions from your parents if you did go home so early. 

You called the only person you could think of. You weren’t sure what the plan was, but you just didn’t want to be alone. 

And just seeing him, someone who you feel safe in the presence of, you run into his arms and let the tears flow. It was hard to make out from your watery explanation, but he understood what happened and held you just a little tighter. Despite his anger, there was nothing he could do. They were still in middle school and Sam was a sophmore in high school, he’d look like the loser if he went inside and beat up a kid two years younger than him. 

“Oh, god.” You said as you wiped away your tears only to see the blackness from your mascara. You could only wonder how pathetic you look. This was supposed to be a special night, and it had barely begun before it turned into the worst night of your life so far. 

“Stop that, you still look pretty.” He wipes your cheeks with his long sleeve, trying to wipe away your mascara but really just dragging it around. 

“Thanks.” You whisper, not really believing it.  

“No, I’m serious. You got that kind of Courtney Love-Hole look, y’look cool.” He leaned back to get a better look at you and smiled. You loved when he smiled, when he was happy and sweet, especially towards you. And in the moonlight, he was even more handsome.

With it being winter and cold outside, Sam gave you his jacket and slung his arm around you as he began to walk you home. You thought you could die at that very moment and be the happiest girl in the world. 

“So what should I do to whats-his-stupid-fucking-face?” He knew wasn’t going to do anything to the kid, but he wanted to lift your mood. You smiled and shook your head. Honestly, you wanted nothing to do with him but you played along.

“Just punch him real hard in the face, I want it to be swollen and ugly.” 

“Yeah, yeah that’s good. And let’s take his money, I’ll- no listen to me,” he interrupted himself at your snort and continued, “I’ll kick the back of his knees, hold him down, then you take the five dollars out of his pocket, got it?” 

You giggled as you imagined it, kicking the back of his knees. You saw him do it to your brother after he slapped the sunburn on your shoulder and that was the most you had ever laughed. You’ll never forget your brother’s shock and pointed finger to the smaller slap mark on his back, “she did it to me first, look!”

“Nah, she wouldn’t do that.” 

“And we’ll get hot chocolate with the money.” And he pointed to your favorite cafe and walked towards it. 

“Sam, wait, I don’t have any money on me right now.”

“That’s okay, it’s on me. Something good has to come out of tonight.” He dragged you to the building, and in there he bought you a hot chocolate with extra milk. Which was something you appreciated because you burned your tongue really bad drinking your hot chocolate a few weeks ago and he saw. 

What followed was some talking about movies, music, and embarrassing stories(your favorite one being that he fell off his chair in class because he was leaning backwards). Then a trip to the park where you two spun on the merry-go-round until you couldn’t see straight or stop laughing. 

And when he finally took you home, he gave you a short peck to your head and wished you a good night. It was that moment you believed he liked you as well, and you dreamed of what it would be like to be boyfriend/girlfriend with him.

banner by @dollywons

[fortheloveoffanfic]

The Profound Pleasure of Little Things

Hozier x reader

Author's note: Basically the thought was, "ohh, what if there was a real moment that inspired Wasteland!baby."

Summary: Andrew and Y/n spend an afternoon at the beach.

Warnings - poorly written fluff, I guess.

"I think if the world ended right now, I'd be alright with that.”

After spending the past fifteen minutes or so bearing witness to her magnificence. Ireland's solem grey sky meeting the frigid, green water and acting as a cool toned backdrop to the brightness of her beauty. The way those deep, blue jeans hug her curves, the woolen burgundy coat, draped over a band tee, that follows the contour of her frame and her hair tumbling over her shoulders as she stands a few feet off the edge, gaze cast out towards the horizon; as if the world below them had been thought up just for her.

As Y/n turns to face him, the wind whips her hair forward, and he smiles when she hastily brushes away from her eyes. “What?” She chortles, but there's an air of disbelief in the word and she tilts her head a little to the side, “why?”

Licking his lips, Andrew pushes off the boulder he's been perched on, one converse-clad foot planted on the ground while the other stayed propped on a smaller rock jutting from the lush grass. “Because,” he stuffs his hands into the side pockets of the denim jacket he's thrown over his red flannel, “I've seen you, standing here and that's gotta be the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

Y/n rolls her eyes; he's awfully romantic when he doesn't mean to be – and mind-bogglingly terrible at it when he actively tries. Just that morning he'd clumsily danced them into the kitchen table after daring more than their usual sway. But now, after a long afternoon drive and an impromptu hike up a hill that overlooks the sea, he's stringing together the sort of lines that make her cheeks go warm and stirs a flutter in her chest. “You're being dramatic,” she teases, relinquishing her hand when he reaches for it. Their fingers lace with ease; it's something they're so used to doing that Y/n rarely thinks much of it anymore. It's such a small, mundane thing and his hands have become so familiar to her that they almost feel like her own – and like she'd miss her own hand if it were gone forever, she'd miss his too.

He is a part of her; as vital as a limb, or the thing beating in her chest.

“Hardly,” his thumb ghosts the soft skin over her knuckles, and his eyes soften when they meet hers. It still startles him that she's his, and standing there with the smell of salt, autumn and her perfume flooding his senses, Andrew fears he might be dreaming, “you look…..” Like a painting, something that one could only wish to be privileged enough to see, let alone touch, “exquisite.”

Y/n giggles before glancing down at herself. She knows she must look plain at best, and a wind-tousled mess at worst. Even if she isn't the self-deprecating type, it's tough to believe that she looks like anything special without makeup, her hair free-styled by the breeze and her face nipped by the chill. The coat that she's owned for nearly a decade and a faded t-shirt probably isn't helping her case either. “Are you trying to get laid on this hilltop?” She asks conspiringly.

Snaking his free arm around her waist, Andrew simultaneously pulls Y/n closer and throws his head back in laughter. Lifting her gaze to drink him in, Y/n’s smile softens; she loves the way he looks when he laughs like that. Entirely carefree, as if he mightn’t have anything in the world to worry about, its a laugh she sees most off when he’s been home for a while and he isn’t concerned about deadlines and appearances, or when they have friends over and he’s had a bit too much to drink. Or when she says something that is a little absurd, but not quite funny, and he somehow finds the world of humor in it.

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed,” his fingers curl into her waist. Then, when the shaking of his shoulders settle, he lowers his eyes to meet hers. It always baffles him how she could not know – not completely – what she does to him. Because if she did, Y/n wouldn’t doubt his credibility for a second when he says that she’s beautiful – and utterly in awe of everything that she is. “But I really do think that you look lovely darling,” he adds softly, freeing his hand from hers to gently cup her face, “if you saw what I did, you’d understand. If you could see yourself through my eyes…….thought of yourself with my mind, you would get to know the most breathtaking person I've ever met.”

Licking her lips, Y/n lays her hands on his chest, thumb grazing the sliver of skin left exposed by the undone top button of his shirt. “How do you do that?” She muses quietly, gazing up at him.

Andrew's thumb roves the apple of her cheek and she leans into his touch, “Do what?” He lowers his head a little, so their foreheads are that much closer to touching.

“Come up with…..stuff,” she hates the word in the context, “like that.”

“Well, it would just so happen, that I have the best muse,” because every beautiful thing he can think of is tangled up with the thought of her. He can’t see flowers without wondering how they’d look if they were laced in her hair, or held in her hands, he sees art and wonders if she’d like it too and when he’s faced with a day like this one – where everything seems to be in perfect measure – all Andrew wants to do is share it with her.

“I am just so in love with you,” he rasps, the sudden drop in his voice sending a shiver up her spine, “that it touches every part me, everything I do has a bit of you in it,” as if all the old parts of himself have been shed, giving way to something new, improved in a way that only be because of her presence.

The more Andrew thinks about the clearer one certainty becomes; in a way, the world has already ended. It happened the second he fell in love with her. Everything as he knew it was changed forever – reduced to a wasteland, and out from the ashes she came.

Lifting one of her hands, Y/n caresses his temple with the pad of her thumb. “What a beautiful mind you have,” she muses, gaze matching his. Y/n always faults him for having a way with his words, usually when he doesn't even mean to, but Andrew doesn't think she ever pays enough mind to what she's saying. “Who needs the rest of the world when they have this?”

His thumb continues stroking her cheek in that languid, gentle fashion and Andrew’s gaze softens so much that he thinks he must be melting under her touch. He must be putty in her hands – so easy to mold however she pleases, because the only thing he wants more than being with her is being exactly what Y/n needs.

May he always be a necessity, may her life be just a touch emptier without him, so she’ll keep him around.

“Who needs it, darling?” Who needs it when the best of it smiles when she looks at me? He’s just about to press his lips to hers in a kiss he’s been aching to steal since the moment she turned to look at him, when a wave – way down below – breaks so violently that a few droplets hit their faces, causing Y/n to shift her gaze towards the expanse of glacial teal.

“We should walk down to the beach,” she suggests suddenly, eyes alight with the wonder of someone yearning for the thrill of adventure. In an instant, Y/n is backing out of his embrace – like a dream just past his immediate reach. She takes his hand though, lacing her smaller, finer fingers with his and practically tugs him along, urging him towards the mouth of the stoney, sloped pathway that leads to the beach.

“Yeah, sure-” Andrew doesn’t even get to reply before he’s stumbling along, blindly following her. He isn’t even sure if she actually knows the way – he’s never taken her there, but Y/n is quick-witted enough to figure things out without anyone’s help. As he watches her trot ahead with purpose, feet clad in Chuck Taylor's stomping on the feathery grass as she moves ahead, Andrew keeps his gaze fixed on her. The way she holds her head up, as if she doesn’t need a map – or even him – to show her the way. The way the wind blows her hair and her delicate fingers work to keep them away from her eyes. She’s moving so quickly that its hard to take it all in, and Andrew finds himself wanting to ask her to slow down, so he can soak up the way she looks against the blur of the trees.

Sometimes, he wants to tell her – beg her – to just be a bit more still. Because while he adores watching her move, drinking in every miniscule action that is so specific to her, Andrew breathes for the moments where there isn’t the slightest quiver in her form. When his view of her is entirely unhampered by the demands of life; she doesn’t have to get up to answer her phone, or check on the laundry downstairs – when she’s just lounging in bed with her glasses propped on the bridge of her nose and a book held up in front of her face, when she’s sitting on the back patio while nursing an afternoon tea, watching the birds entertain each other.

When Y/n is standing before him, surrounded by a tapestry of greens and blues and other specks of colour that pale in her wake, like something he should never be so privileged to bare witness to.

His thoughts are interrupted when she stumbles on a rock and instinctively deserts her hand in favor of reaching for her hips. “Slow down,” he chuckles, reeling her close to his chest, one arm wrapping around her middle as they continue downward.

“But I wanna see the beach,” she protests with a giggle as his lips find her cheek. Reaching past herself, she lays her hand on his neck, holding his face close to hers for a few seconds longer.

“And you will,” Andrew mumbles, mouth still pressed up to her face, “but lets……enjoy the getting there too.”

“I think you’re enjoying it a little too much,” Y/n admonishes humorously when Andrew squeezes her to him.

“Impossible,” he bends his head to nuzzle the side of her face, “I actually think you’re not enjoying this enough.”

“Yeah?” She leans into his embrace, hand falling onto his forearm as she finally relents to stopping for a moment. She can hear the sounds of the sea a bit more clearly now, and the air is saltier than it had been when they were up on the hill. Through the foliage, Y/n spots bits of jewel toned ripples, a tell-tale sign that they aren’t too far off, and she’s actively holding herself back from urging him ahead. She does have a habit of rushing things, sometimes the need to just keep moving is almost overwhelming; she’s so focused on getting somewhere that she forgets the journey is half the experience.

Andrew, she often finds, is entirely the opposite. It's a quality she admires in him; his ability to revel in simple joys, the way he’s able to steady himself enough to thoroughly take everything in. While she’s eager to brush past everything in her way to get to her finish line, he’s perfectly fine with strolling through the trees, stopping ever so often to take pictures of things that interest him, or rattle off a random fact that he learned in a nature documentary.

“Yes,” Andrew hisses, kissing the corner of her lips, “just relax a little.”

“I’m very relaxed,” Y/n scoffed defensively, “we just have different definitions of that word.”

Andrew laughs loudly, finally letting her go and allowing her to take his hand again, “I’m not even sure that word is in your dictionary,” he chortles as she tows him along. Y/n doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even know if she hears him, because as the words leave his mouth, they reach the edge of the woods which opens up to the small beach. The sand is soft under his shoes, and the sting of salty air is sharp. “Happy now?” He teases when she lets his hand go in favor of going a few paces ahead.

“I was always happy,” Y/n corrects, “but now I'm…..satisfied.”

“If satisfaction is what you were looking for, I could've helped with that up there,” he nudges his head towards the top of the hill they’d been standing on about fifteen minutes earlier.

Y/n rolls her eyes as she turns to look at him, “oh shut up,” she giggles.

“Just sayin’,” he hums, moving to stand beside her, arm going around her shoulders. Immediately, Y/n tilts her head so its touching his side.

As she keeps her eyes trained forward, Y/n hums, “its so beautiful.”

Andrew returns the sound, albeit just a bit softer as he turns his head to look down at her, nestled against him. Its hard to describe just how much he enjoys the feeling of her tucked against him, its one of those simple pleasures that he never fails to appreciate; the way her form fits perfectly with his, like they were made to just click together. It's such a small thing; the comfort that comes with holding someone who wouldn’t trade the feeling of your arms around them for anything else in the world, and he can never seem to get enough of it. He lives for the way throwing his arm around her shoulder has become as natural to him as breathing, and how instinctive it is when she leans against him.

“Don’t you think so?” Y/n glances up at him, a smile dusting her cheeks when their eyes meet. There's always a little tingle that prods at her heart when she finds him looking at her, like the beat of butterfly wings against the petal of a flower.

Licking his lips, he glances forward at the ocean stretched out before then, and the near vacant beach that spreads out for at least a mile on either side.

He must’ve seen this beach near a hundred times by now. Andrew is well aquainted with the way the waves break against the collection of jagged rocks piled against once side of the shore, foam washing the salt-worn gray and seeping into the crevices. The crunch of pebbles and broken seashells under his boot isn’t foreign to him, and he knows all too well how frigid those waters can be around this time of the year. He’s seen the beauty of the place, he swears he’s done his best to appreciate it too, but there’s something different about holding her as the water pulls the sand seaward and salty sprinkles dust their lips. It feels like he’s seeing for the first time all over again.

And he loves it – all of it. The way it feels like a film has been peeled off his eyes, the thrill of enjoying the simplest things so much more than he ever has because he's sharing the moment with her.

“Yeah,” he looks at her again, lowering his head to touch the tips of their noses, “its beautiful, baby.”

[boydepartment]

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍩₊˚⊹♡ so what do you recommend? nishimura riki x gn! reader

250ish words- riki being a loser- engene reader working at a donut shop - masterlist

you stood at the counter waiting for your name to either be called to the back or for someone to come in. the chain you work at was supposed to be closed today but your manager asked if you could come in for this specific store as you guys decided to be open

to be honest you didn’t mind, you liked your job and it’d keep you distracted from the fact you couldn’t make it to a concert you desperately wanted to go to. you had the money to attend just not the means to get there, who seriously has a concert mid week? and in a place where they already go to every tour? it wasn’t that far but just the hassle of getting there and work. ugh it was just a mess. you really wanted to go too… you loved k-pop and concerts. especially hybe groups and especially enhypen.

unfortunately the cards just aren’t in your favor this leg of the tour.

you sighed as you watched out the window as people walked by the store, wondering who was going to walk in and ask for a donut. you looked down for a split second picking at the bandaids that covered your fingers from earlier in the day.

when the little ding came up you perked up. smiling at the two boys who walked in.

“hi welcome in! how can i help you?” you leaned against the donut case in front of you. the two boys looked at you and then at eachother. you took a quick note of the apparel

one was shorter than the other, denim vest, chain, a backwards hat that looked oddly familiar. when you took note of the taller one your heart stopped for a moment.

there was no way this was happening to you at work…

the taller one wore the absolute ugliest jacket and jean combo you have ever seen in your life, and he wore the ugliest baseball cap to accompany it. the unfortunate part was, you’d recognize that ugly outfit combo anywhere.

“um hi sorry about that- can i get-“

AUSTRALIAN 🫵

okay y/n play it cool.

the taller one who you assumed you knew to be none other than nishimura riki, hit the shorter one and stood closer to you.

“i’m sorry he’s dumb-“ the taller one spoke, “we have never been here before actually-“

“I LITERALLY HAV-“

the taller one waved him off and kept his attention on you. the closer he got to the case display, the more you could see the little mole under his eye.

“ignore him.” he said quickly, you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. he leaned against the counter next to the case display and looked at you.

“so what do you recommend..?”

was he trying to hit on you?

you put your hand under your chin and looked at him, throughly enjoying this and thanking the universe if this was real and not just delusion, “definitely anything with crème but you cannot go wrong with a strawberry donut.” you smiled at him. you heard riki giggle under his mask and his friend(who you guessed was jake) groaned, probably embarrassed.

“i love strawberries actually. i’ll get both though.” he said and you started to bag them up, you looked up at his friend.

“anything for you?”

jake walked closer to the counter and apologized quietly, “can we just get two dozen of the signature donuts too..?”

you nodded and grabbed the ready to go boxes behind you.

“actually can i pick the-“ riki spoke big jake interrupted him.

“MAN STOP MAKING THE WORKERS JOB HARDER JUST BECAUSE YOU THINK THEYRE CUTE!” he shoved him and got shoved back. you started to giggle again and gave them their total.

jake paying and trying to apologize for his friend’s behavior.

they quickly grabbed their donuts and headed out, riki wishing you a good day before running into the door and getting laughed at by jake.

you felt yourself look down smiling.

part of you felt like you were being delusional until you saw a little piece of paper near your sticky notes that you used to remember restock…

‘be back tomorrow by MYSELF- hope ur working-

my name is riki :)’

your jaw dropped slightly before you pocketed the note and was called back by your manager to help in the back. you quickly scurried to the back of the house and tried to hide your smile.

[hxney-lemcn]

non-request Idia thought of the Day:

Consider hieght difference.

OUR BOY BE TALL!! Easily being able to duck under his arm or get into small spaces to fix tech because you're small.

being absolutely done with a situation (Dorm head meeting?), walking over to Idia, and promptly zipping yourself up in his jacket. while he's still in it. He doesn't know what to do. he's just standing there with another person in his jacket with him. WHAT BUTTON DOES HE PRESS FOR THIS HE DOESNT KNOW-- Not even your head is out, the jacket is zipped all the way up.

Also sweater paws for that one hit K.O. to Idia.

ALSO SHORT BUT STRONK- IMAGINE BEING SMALL AND ADORABLE BUT YOU JUST PICK IDIA'S SKYSCRAPER ASS UP LIKE NOTHING. "Hi Cater, Need Idia. Bye." Straight just yoinking him and leaving. Why did you need him? Parallel play reasons obviously.

Idia is 6 ft (183 cm) tall, and he never really thought about his height. Why would he? He barely leaves his room, if anything, he wishes he was smaller so he could blend into a crowd better.

And then you come along. It doesn't matter how much shorter you are, whether its only an inch or a foot, he notices that your shorter.

It would be so funny if you try to kabedon him, if you're really short you gotta stand up on your tippy toes. Instant K.O. Idia is gone, deceased. He finds it both adorable and lowkey hot and he secretly wishes you do it again.

If he tries to get you back...he dies of embarrassment if you slip under his arm. HE WAS TRYING TO DO THE THING! AND YOU JUST- YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO DO THAT! (give him a little kiss to make up for your teasing).

He is crumbling at any sign of affection (even more so if its public). You zipping yourself in his hoodie? Or just slipping it over your head as well. Sharing a hoodie while he's still in it...yeah he's a jittery mess. You're heat seeping into him, your hair tickling his skin, you look so peaceful with your head against his chest and arms around his torso...if your in a private setting he watches you with a blush. He can't get over the fact that you're real and you choose him. If you're in public his hood is over his head and he's trying to act cool but his bright pink cheeks and tips of his hair clearly give away his true feelings.

It would be absolutely comical for short but strong reader to pick up Idia. Oh my gosh and if people are around...yeah he's floundering (ik I keep saying that but lets be real...he can barely handle a normal social situation lmao). To be fair, if you can lift over 140lbs (63kg) you can probably carry him (he is thin so I'm assuming we are a similar weight and I added some lbs cus he's taller than me). This is probs your way of getting him out of a situation he doesn't want to be in (any social one 💀).

Cater is trying to be buddy buddy with Idia, wanting to finally have at least one friend from Ignihyde. Idia looks like he wants to be literally anywhere else. So you decide to step in, pick up Idia, and tell Cater that y'all had plans. Idia is holding onto you for dear life, Cater is eating it up (this is now added to his gossip folder and he definitely got photos of you carrying Idia). After the panic wears off, Idia is impressed. Who knew you had so much muscle? Totally not another reason for him to simp for you.

[lovelytsunoda]

you, me, lonely | mercedes amg (platonic)

summary: life is kicking baby mercs ass, and nothing has been alright since the last time she watched a brat pack movie. her head is too loud, life is moving fast, and she just wishes she knew how to stop and take a breath

pairing: mercedes amg (platonic) team x female! reader (but this one is real heavy on her interactions with lewis!)

warnings: y'all should know these by now tbh, there will be some anxiety and there will be feels and my girl is on the verge of a breakdown, mentions of pregnancy (not on baby mercs part lmao), she is finally ready to admit that maybe she should think about going to therapy.

part of the family is the friends we meet along the way series

her mind froze as she stared at the text on her screen, phone lying next to the keyboard of her work computer. she'd read the message three times over, and it still wasn't quite clicking.

clement: i thought you'd want to hear it from us before it hit the gossip rags....olli's new girlfriend is pregnant.

that shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. olli wasn't hers. she'd made it clear that she didn't want him after he'd kissed her at that holiday party.

so why was there an achy feeling her gut?

why did her head feel so loud that it might explode?

"hello? earth to yn?" the soft voice called her out of her reverie, and she looked up from her desk to see a worried lewis standing in front of her desk. "are you alright, kiddo?"

"yeah." she said, not really meaning it as she brushed some hair out of her face.

crazy how he was her first (and only) kiss two years ago, and now he was having a baby with someone else. she'd already blocked his number, and there was no point in sending him well wishes considering just how burned that bridge was.

"you don't look fine." lewis pushed gently. "a problem shared is a problem halved."

she sighed, locking her computer and tucking away her phone. "join me for a walk? i need to take my mandatory fifteen."

she grabbed her sherpa jacket from the back of her desk chair, heading towards brackley's patio doors. the cool fall air slapped her in the face as she pushed them open, moving to stand at the corner of the deck, attempting to soak up the last of what little sun england gets.

"remember that guy i kissed at marcus armstrong's holiday party a few years back?"

lewis nodded. "i do recall."

"he's going to be a father in march." she sighed, watching her breath turn to mist in the air. "somebody wanted him, but nobody has wanted me since him."

she knew in her heart of hearts that she hadn't really tried. she hadn't even really wanted olli when she thought about it. she couldn't date a driver, especially knowing that she would almost always come second to his career.

"and now with you leaving and graduation drawing closer, i just feel like my fucking head is about to explode." she laughed grimly, a realization coming over her. "i'm mentally ill, lewis. i need help. and it has taken me five fucking years to get to the point where i've felt like i could ask for it."

lewis could hear her voice cracking, and he didn't have to turn and look at her to know that she was close to tears. he silently reached out to pull her into a hug, not wanting to push too far, but also wanting to offer the reassurane and comfort that he knew she needed.

"the first step is admitting you need help. we have some of the best therapists in our industry here, yn. and if none of them work, we'll find out which ones are covered by your healthcare plan."

she resisted the urge to sink deeper into his arms with a hearty sob, instead choosing to focus on the grounding smell of his cologne, the feel of his strong, tattooed arms around her.

"and just because i'm at ferrari doesn't mean im gone for good." lewis reminded, pulling away to make sure she looked him in the eyes. "you know that i'm one phone call away, whenever you need me, right?'

she nodded weakly, thinking about the long distance calling fees and the timezones, and all the other reasons why lewis' grand plan might not work.

"i wish you weren't leaving me." she mumbled, hoping that even if lewis heard her say that, that he wouldn;t feel guilty. she knew deep down that he wasn't leaving her, but leaving a team that he felt could no longer build him the car he needed.

"you can call me any time, hey. and mostly everyone else will still be here. you'll still see me on race weekends. besides, once you graduate, you'll be too focused and too busy to have time for us anyways."

that was true. she couldn;t work here forever. sooner or later, it would all end and she'd find herself working in a county courthouse or a small family firm.

maybe somewhere coastal, like devon or halifax. her next big adventure, far away from home.

if she could make it through therapy first. lewis made her promise to talk to toto, who would be able to arrange a meeting with one of the on-staff psychologists for her. she'd met a fewof them in and around the break room, and they seemed personable.

like the kind of people that wouldn't judge the firestorm going on inside her brain at all hours.

they both knew it wasn't going to be a permanent fix, and that there were bigger, different things coming to the mercedes amg headquarters in the next season, including a seventeen year old boy who's gross income was about four times what baby merc could veer hope to earn.

but she was really starting to find her footing here. all she could hope for now was that she managed to keep it until graduation.

she felt somewhat lighter after her talk. being social had never been her forte, and she only somewhat conversed with the ladies in the legal office. talking was hard, she found.

but as lewis walked her back to her desk, and she took a look at her stack of files again, she felt better, albeit slightly.

"hey, yn." elodie, the tall and funny goth girl who worked at the desk next to her stuck her head over the glass dividers. "a few of us were going to grab a drink later and maybe go catch a late movie. did you want to come with us? don't at all feel like you have to say yes if you don't want to. i think doriane is coming, as well as-"

"elodie." she said, smiling to herself. "i would love to tag along. thank you for inviting me."

elodie grinned. "no problem, girlie. we're all going to meet in the front lobby. susie recommended this incredible cider place, and we try to go at least once a year once fall hits."

with her heart feeling a little lighter, and her spirit a little warmer, she turned back to her computer, a small, dainty smile on her face.

maybe making new friends outside of her post secondary education wasn't going to be as hard as she thought.

after all, didn't it only take one conversation to gain the great lewis hamilton as her most trusted ally?

she was so fortunate to work somewhere where everybody cared so much about each other, and that was the thought that she pledged to hang onto during her loneliest of hours from now on.

[morningsharksworld]

Hi! So I'd like to request (if you want too) headcanons of Hazard and reader having a hard-core flirting thing going on. But neither is making a move and everyone's like bro KISS ALREADY-

You can decide who makes the first move!

(Also I love ur writing I need more of this man)

What it would be like to hardcore flirt with Hazard (JUST MAKE OUT ALREADY)

General Dynamic

- Hazard and you are constantly locking eyes in conversations, but instead of looking away, they hold the gaze with a subtle smirk or eyebrow raise. It leaves everyone in the room feeling like a third wheel.

- Their banter is razor-sharp but never truly mean—it's like a game of verbal chicken where both are testing how far they can push before it gets real.

- Leaning too close while explaining something, brushing fingers when handing over items, or Hazard casually putting your hair behind your ear because “it bothered him”.

- Hazard calls Reader things like “sweetheart” and “hotshot” while Reader shoots back with “tough guy” and “Spiked for brains”. The nicknames become progressively flirtier over time.

Group Reactions

- Mutual friends and even the Phreaks are so done with it. Constant comments like, *“Will you two just kiss already?”* or blatant matchmaking attempts at group events.

- Hazard will throw a “don't wait up" as Reader leaves the room just to rile everyone up. Reader, unfazed, winks and says, "You wish."

- The group starts theorizing that the prolonged flirting is some kind of elaborate prank or game they're playing with each other.

Hazard’s Style

- Hazard loves to lean in close when talking, with that trademark smirk, and then back away *just* as it seems like he might actually say something meaningful.

- Occasionally, Hazard lets the guard down—just for a second—saying something like, *“You’re not as bad as I thought you were,”* before immediately covering it up with a laugh.

- Hazard steps in when needed, whether it’s someone hitting on Reader or a dangerous situation, but plays it cool after, with a casual, *“Can’t let anything happen to my favorite rival, can I?”*

Your Moves

- You play the game just as well, but occasionally stumbles over a quip when Hazard’s intensity catches them off guard.

- After you found out that Hazard likes to be praise, you tend to sneak in small praises like “You’re annoyingly good at this, y’know?” which Hazard always catches and turns into a smug grin or if you catch him guard…you’ll just see a freshly made tomato :].

- You LOVE to outdo Hazard just to see that spark of competitive fire in his eyes—whether it’s in training, arguments, casual bets or just to see how much flustered can you get him before he breaks.

- Speaking of breaking first, one night, when the teasing’s gone too far, Hazard corners you, smirks, and plants one hand against the wall beside your head. "Ye’ve been dancin’ ‘round this for long enough” he says, his voice low, laced with that distinct Scottish lilt. You raise an eyebrow, trying to hold your ground despite the way his words send a shiver down your spine. “Oh, do you? Go on, Hazard, enlighten me." His smirk deepens, and he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "Ye want me tae make the first move. Admit it, lass." You let out a scoff, though your voice wavers slightly. "Big words for someone who’s been as scared to do it as me." Hazard pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his teasing smirk softening into something sharper, more determined. "If ye think I’m scared, ye dinnae ken me at all." Before you can fire back, he closes the gap, catching your lips in a kiss that's rough and unrestrained, like he’s been holding back for far too long. When he finally pulls away, his breath mingling with yours, he grins, his accent thick and dripping with smugness, "Told ye I’d be the one tae break first." You grab the front of his jacket, pulling him closer, a smirk of their own spreading across their face, "Don’t get cocky, Hazard. This isn’t over yet." And just like that, the tension snaps, the teasing taking on a fiery, new intensity.

[rachalixie]

hey, i got this ticket? it says “one free cute jisung thought because i said so”. can i cash it in?

a/n: anything for you <3 (gn!reader, jisung fluff, alcohol mention but it's up to you to decide if they have been drinking or not). also i did not proofread this. sorry.

11:59 pm. 

you glance at your phone for a moment, clicking it off and returning your attention to the girl enthusiastically telling a story across the room. and you wait. and wait, for what seems like several minutes. 

you glance at your phone again, and - 

12:00 am. 

how has it only been one minute? your friend, your trusted ride for the evening, was slamming down another glass of wine and giggling into her glass in a way that indicated that she should not be behind the wheel. 

you wanted to go home. you wanted to go home right now, but that meant that you had to walk the three blocks to your apartment alone, at midnight. 

was that a risk you were willing to take? as you looked around the room at the people growing increasingly more drunk by the minute, you decided that yes, you were willing to take it. no one noticed as you walked out of the room into the foyer, your friend didn’t take out her phone when you texted her that you were leaving and that she was not allowed to drive herself home, not a single head turned when you walked out of the door and closed it with a soft click. 

or so you thought. 

you didn’t make it three steps away from the building before you felt a presence behind you, approaching quickly, and you ball your hand into a fist in preparation for an encounter that you really didn’t want to deal with. your hand falls to your side when you realize that it was jisung, your friend and neighbor and, to your embarrassment, the man you were totally head over heels in love with. the man who you spent all evening avoiding, the image of him sitting next to someone else, pressed against their side, burning in your eyes when you close them. the man who was the real reason why you left. 

“where are you going?” he says, slightly breathless from how he had rushed out after you. 

“none of your business,” you quirk an eyebrow up at him, absolutely not endeared by the way his cheeks puff out with the breath he holds in before sighing out. “i’m going home, you can go back. i’m okay.”

“well, let me walk you back,” he matches your stride as you turn back towards the sidewalk. “i was about to leave anyways.”

“why?” a spark of annoyance tingles up your spine and you tamper it down. “you think i can’t defend myself?”

“well, no, i know you can,” his eyes flicker down to your hands for a moment. “but do you want to be in a position where you have to?”

and the truth was, you didn’t. the annoyance fizzles out and you realize that you’re grateful for his presence by your side, a warm welcome against the cool night air. if there was anyone whose company you would never deny, it was his, even if you put on a front. your hands brush against each other’s as you walk in comfortable silence, each touch lighting a fire inside of you. 

he walks on the end of the sidewalk closest to the street, and despite there being no cars out this late you find the gesture sweet. you imagined that if he was wearing a jacket that he would offer it to you - you wished he would offer you his hoodie, if only so you could keep it.

“well,” you rest your hand on the doorknob, sighing at its familiarity after a long day. “this is me.” 

“okay,” he falters, taking a step closer to you and running a hand through his hair. your eyes catch on a vein trailing up his wrist to his hand and you don’t realize you’ve been staring for maybe too long until he clears his throat. “i was wondering - and please let me know if i got the wrong idea but. can i come in?”

“you spent all evening next to someone else,” you’re a little confused, a little more angry, and very caught off-guard. “and now you’re asking to come into my home? what are you playing at?”

“so it worked?” he smiles, a bit bashful as the blood rushes to the top of his cheekbones. “i wasn’t sure if it would, i saw it in a movie once. make them jealous and you’ll know if they like you back by how they react, right?”

you blink at him. one moment passes, and then the next, in shocked silence. his gaze on you is unwavering, slow blinks of his eyes a tell of the passing time. his eyes are burning on you, you feel so utterly exposed in front of him and - 

“god, you’re stupid,” you blurt out, a laugh made up of relief, surprise, and embarrassment bubbling up in your chest. “i can’t believe i like a fucking loser.” 

“so, you do like me then?” his smile turns into a full grin, and you can’t help but think that satisfaction looks way too good on his face. instead of answering, you swing the door open and pull him inside by the collar.

you’ll show him satisfaction.

and then they have sex and get married yeah.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Lilia Vanrouge - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Lilia: Seeing all these paintings on display, unchanging from when they were painted hundreds of years ago… it sure does bring me joy.

Lilia: Ooh, that painting over there is of the Thorn Fairy's men!

???: The Thorn Fairy's men, huh… Were they really that strong?

Lilia: Epel, so you were checking out this painting too. Are you curious about them?

Epel: Ah, yes! I was thinking they're rather head-empty lookin'… I mean, they look real sweet!

Lilia: Mhm, they are adorable. And despite that, they would always be carrying their weapons so as to respond to the Thorn Fairy's whims immediately.

Lilia: That means they must have been wonderfully loyal and brave soldiers.

Epel: I see… They don't really look like it, but when you put it that way, I can kinda see how cool they are, I guess?

Lilia: Right, right? And it just goes to show how great the Thorn Fairy was to be able to command such men.

Epel: Aren't they just following her because they've pledged loyalty to her?

Lilia: You should take a good look at this picture. See how they're all just filled with character?

Lilia: It's actually extremely difficult to folks like them in line. Isn't it the same with the students in our school?

Lilia: Everyone's so self-confident, they just do as they please. Those that actually listen to others, or follow orders are actually in the minority.

Epel: Ahaha… I'm getting what you're saying, I think.

Epel: Now I wonder how the Thorn Fairy was able to keep her men in line, then.

Lilia: Kufufu… You're a student of Night Raven College, you should already understand.

Lilia: You get them to understand just who is in charge by a show of force! It's the simplest method.

Epel: True… So that basically means that her men followed her because she was super strong.

Lilia: Mhm. But even so, a show of force won't be able to garner true loyalty.

Lilia: The most important thing when leading a legion is to build a trusting relationship with your men.

Lilia: Trust can't just be achieved overnight. I'm sure the Thorn Fairy put in a lot of effort to get to this point, too.

Epel: "Build a trusting relationship," huh… How would you do it if it was you, Lilia-san?

Lilia: THE BEST WAY IS TO SHARE A MEAL TOGETHER!

Lilia: I've actually served meals to the other Diasomnia students, hand-made by me.

Lilia: Everyone was so moved that they were utterly speechless. They couldn't even bring themselves to touch it.

Lilia: When they finally ate it, there was a whole range of reactions, including some who laid themselves out on the dining table, or those who covered their face with their hands. There were some who even burst into tears.

Epel: Wow, your cooking must be amazing!

Lilia: Mhm! Once I set my hand to it, I can make any petulant kid fall in line.

Lilia: Ever since then, I've tried to make more home-cooked meals to try to deepen the relationship between our dormmates…

Lilia: But they would all band together, saying they don't want to trouble me. They're all such humble boys.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Lilia: This is a painting of the Sorcerer of the Sand's companion. His red and blue feathers are bright and vibrant.

Epel: Kinda unusual to have a parrot as a sidekick, huh.

Lilia: Mhm. However, this parrot is said to be able to perfectly imitate human voices and speech.

Lilia: I'm sure that alone was something of use to the Sorcerer of the Sands.

Lilia: Ahh～ how envious. I wish I had a special ability to do something like that.

Epel: Would there even be something worth changing voices for?

Lilia: There's a lot to choose from. The best way to use it would be…

Lilia: FOR A VIRTUAL AVATAR STREAM!

Epel: A virtual avatar stream…? What is that?

Lilia: Oh what, you don't know? Basically, people create avatars that represents them on the internet…

Lilia: And they use those avatars to promote their content of food reviews and let's plays of video games.

Lilia: I didn't know myself, until one of my online gaming buddies recommended it to me…

Lilia: But I think it would be cool to use an avatar to become a different person and chat away with my viewers.

Lilia: Don't you think it would be fun to see my cute little self stream videos in an avatar of a big, strong, burly man?

Epel: Does that mean… I could be strong and burly on the internet, too!?

Lilia: Oh, are you interested too, Epel? Then we should collaborate and both become buff streamers!

Epel: That could be fun! Oh, so this is what you were talking about when you said you wanted to change your voice to become another person?

Lilia: That's right. Normally, you'd need a voice changer to change your voice.

Lilia: But that is just a whole different hassle to deal with. Sounds like there's no end to the amount of equipment you might end up needing for it

Lilia: I keep thinking I'll ask my online gaming buddies who might know more about it, but I get so absorbed by our quest that I keep forgetting.

Lilia: I'd sure love it if I got super popular and was drowning in likes, subscribes, and superchats.

Epel: I don't really get it, but… I think it's fun to think about becoming someone you really want to be!

Lilia: Right? Although, I do have a wonderful voice, you know… It could be a terrible shame to hide it with a voice changer.

Lilia: And if I'm going to use my velvet voice, I guess my avatar should be good-looking to fit…

Lilia: But if I do that, then it wouldn't be much different than my real self… Hrrrm, what to do?

Lilia: Ah…! Does that mean streaming with my real face would be on the table too…!?

Lilia: If I did that, I wouldn't need a voice changer, or the ability to imitate voices. That might be the quick and easy way to solve it.

Epel: Eh, what happened to collaborating with each other using buff avatars!?

Lilia: Oh, right! Ah, I'm getting forgetful in my old age.

Lilia: Maybe I could have two different avatars? Kufufu, this is starting to tickle my want for a new kind of challenge again.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Lilia: This old woman… This is the Fairest Queen in disguise. This painting depicts the scene where she is handing an apple to a princess.

Lilia: Maybe you're more familiar with this painting than I, since you're a student in Pomefiore?

Epel: In the Shaftlands, there is a well-known story about how the Fairest Queen donned a disguise in order to hide her identity.

Epel: I think Vil-san was saying that there's actually a lot of different interpretations for why, but…

Epel: I wonder why the Fairest Queen chose to disguise herself as an old woman?

Epel: If she was just trying to hide her identity, she could have also just chosen a cool and ripped figure…

Lilia: Perhaps she didn't want to frighten the princess. A muscular physique can be overpowering sometimes…

Lilia: And if she is too beautiful, she would also be difficult to approach. So, maybe that's why she thought an old woman would be a good choice?

Epel: Hmmm. I never even thought about how it'd be hard to approach someone because they're "too beautiful."

Lilia: Well, that makes sense for you. Nevertheless, human thought process is both inconsistent and interesting.

Lilia: To tell you the truth, even I had a time in my life where which people would only stare from a safe distance…

Lilia: But then during my travels, sometimes I would get random freebies at markets by people who thought me just a "cute little boy."

Lilia: That's when I realized for the first time, that I AM SUPER CUTE!!

Lilia: Ever since then, I've made it a point to share my cute charm with everyone as much as possible.

Lilia: I'd get things like free carriage rides, or steep discounts while shopping… You do it too, don't you, Epel?

Epel: I don't!! Although, yeah, I have gotten free snacks while running errands before, sure, but…

Lilia: So you're able to reap the benefits without actually showing off…! Mhm, I still have much to learn.

Lilia: But don't count me out yet. Like, even after enrolling at Night Raven College…

Lilia: I'd have classmates who'd save me a seat in the cafeteria, or carry heavy luggage for me…

Lilia: Everyone was just fawning over me ☆

Epel: That's… Aren't they just mocking you, though!? It's like they're looking down on you, I'd never let that pass.

Lilia: Kufufu, you still have a lot to learn, too. There's no harm in using what's available to you.

Lilia: But that is all old news, anyway. The longer I've spent time on campus, the more people have learned the extent of my abilities.

Lilia: There were times that I've completely shut down students from other dorms who lazily tried to pick fights with me, too…

Lilia: By the next semester, everyone was treating me completely different.

Lilia: Now, I'm stuck as "Reliable Lilia-san." And I really just wanted to settle into the role as the "Cute Little Brother."

Epel: That means they all recognized you for your abilities, right? Lilia-san, you're so cool!

Lilia: Kufufu, my cuteness is supposed to be my selling point, but I guess it's not bad to be called cool, neither.

Epel: No way, being cool is much better! It's great to hear a story like that of what could be.

Epel: …Ah, it's gotten pretty late. I'm going to start checking out other exhibits.

Lilia: Mhm, see you. Okay, since Epel has wandered off, I think I'll just meander a bit… Hm?

Lilia: Oh this… This is a painting of fairies gifting blessing to a princess. Heh. I can't help but chuckle every time I see this painting.

Lilia: If they were to gift her blessings of happiness, then they should have gifted her the strength to break her own curse. And yet…

Lilia: They chose to give her beautiful looks, and a beautiful singing voice. What fools

Requested by Anonymous.

[introverted-scribblings]

The RFA w/ MC who loves sewing

What? A post? From me? You're crazy, there's no way that's happening.

I'm trying to get back into writing for this blog and recently started replaying Mystic Messenger because I want poor sleep 💕 Basically I'm letting my fixation fuel my writing because... the sentence ends there.

Enjoy these headcanons! I thought they turned out really cute~

(FYI: I used fem!MC for these headcanons; girlfriend/wife/etc.)

Yoosung:

He found out in the RFA chatroom when the two of you were talking about games and hobbies.

Yoosung had been excitedly telling you about the armor set he had gotten in his latest LOLOL binge, sending a picture and saying how he wishes he could wear cool armor in real life.

“I can make it for you”

“MC… what???”

And this is where he discovered your passion for sewing and your side-hobby of cosplay

He had a little experience with sewing, he could sew on a button and fix small tears thanks to his high school “home ec” classes, but you’re talking about making entire outfits and costumes from scratch.

THAT’S. SO. COOL.

He is amazed and thoroughly impressed by your talents, even moreso after you send some pictures of your completed works.

It’s amazing that you can make your own clothes, but he’s definitely super impressed with your cosplays. They’re insanely detailed, matching perfectly with the source material. He often says that your cosplays look better than the source material. They’re true works of art in his eyes.

Praises your talents nonstop.

Talks about it all the time to everyone. Every one of his friends knows how skilled his girlfriend is. And the other RFA members know tenfold.

After hearing you talk about your projects, Yoosung decided to join the sewing club at school in the hopes that he could help you with your amazing work! (Not that you need help, he really just wants to participate in something you love)

What ends up happening though is him sitting beside you at the sewing machine and getting lost in your working rhythm. (“Yoosung, are you paying attention? I thought you wanted me to give you tips?” “S-sorry, MC!! You’re just… really good at this… Like magic!”)

There’s no way he’ll be able to catch up with your skill anytime soon, so you compromise with him. You’ll make the costumes, but he has to cosplay with you~

(I have a short fic continuation of this! You can read it here)

Zen:

He found out just before one of his performances.

The costume he was wearing was a bit snug but worked fine in all the dress rehearsals, so he didn’t think much of it at the time.

You were backstage with him before opening night, ready to tell him to break a leg and give the audience a show to remember, when you saw the rip in his jacket.

It was a seam rip behind his left shoulder. Not the worst, but clearly noticeable.

Curtain was in ten minutes.

“Hyun, take off your costume.”

“Jagyia, I know I’m irresistible, but can you wait until after the show?”

“Not like that!!!” >////<

You pulled a flat black case from your purse and opened it, revealing a small sewing kit. You had everything you needed for a sewing emergency. Pins, buttons, snaps, scissors, an assortment of colored thread. And needles, of course.

You fixed the rip and strengthened the seam with four minutes to spare.

Zen asks you about it after the show (which went perfectly, thanks to you) and you explain your sewing hobby to him. Mentioning that you always have your little sewing kit with you for emergencies like tonight.

You show him pictures of the projects you’ve made and entire outfits you’ve designed and created from scratch. A good chunk of your wardrobe are pieces you’ve made yourself.

Of course he supports you! He’s so impressed and is constantly gushing about how talented you are in the chatroom.

Though nothing could prepare him for the moment you said you wanted to make something for him. Looking up at him with big hopeful eyes as you asked if he’d let you design him an outfit. His heart nearly burst.

You poured hours of time and effort into these pieces for him, determined to make this your best project yet. Your magnum opus. (You also sent concept sketches and fabric swatches to Jaehee for her “professional fan opinion”)

When he put it on for the first time, he was speechless. Everything fit perfectly, there wasn’t a part of the outfit that was uncomfortable in the slightest.

And he may be a bit of a narcissist, but he swore that the clothes you crafted made him more handsome than he thought possible. He looked good but never this good.

Your heart was filled with sunshine and warmth when he decided to wear it to an interview.

“My outfit? It’s custom-made. My girlfriend is a very talented seamstress and this was a gift from her~”

Jaehee:

She found out when she called you to complain about the c-fur she was still cleaning up around her apartment.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, Jaehee. I know how bad that can get. I took care of my friend’s cat for a weekend once and I spent an entire month cleaning fur off all my fabric.”

Your fabric?? “What fabric, MC?”

The fabric for your projects of course! Once she got you started, you happily explained your passion to her and how you’ve been making your own clothes for a while now too.

She is also very impressed with your skill and also impressed with how handy it is. You very generously offered to mend her favorite blazer when one of the seams split. You also fixed the two loose buttons you found.

When you two open up the cafe together, you made Jaehee a custom apron to wear. Even going so far as to embroider her name on it along with some decorative coffee beans.

It’s her favorite apron and the one she wears the most while working. (until it has to be cleaned, but then it’s right back in the cafe for her to use)

It gets a lot of compliments too and you’ve actually had a few customers commission you from Jaehee’s (unintentional) promoting.

You since made more clothes for her, even an entire sundress similar to one she had been looking at while you both were out shopping. (You didn’t think the one sold was her color, so you made one yourself that would highlight her best~)

The only issue is the thread and fabric scraps that tend to scatter just as bad as the c-fur… but hey, at lease the end result is more useful! And she can always count on you to tidy your mess when you’re finished~

Jumin:

You mentioned it offhand. Simply mentioning the stitching quality on one of his ties and how you hadn’t made a tie before.

He followed up asking why you would want to make a tie, to which you explained that you often made your own clothes but would love to give yourself a little challenge with something you hadn’t done before.

Initially, he didn’t quite understand. He could easily have any outfit you desired tailored specifically for you, there wasn’t the need to go through all the hassle of making it.

You had to explain that it was your hobby. That, while time consuming and occasionally tedious, you truly enjoyed making your own clothes, and showed him some examples from your closet.

“I’m quite impressed, MC. I’ve only seen this kind of quality come out of trained professionals.”

“I’ll take that compliment. Thank you, love~”

He gives you an entire studio for your projects. While you insist that he doesn’t need to give you so many elaborate gifts, you have to admit that the space is very nice. Much better than working in cramped conditions or on the floor.

While Jumin doesn’t have an interest in joining your craftiness, your husband is more than willing to encourage your hobby monetarily with machine repairs and high quality materials.

Whatever you want, you can have. You’re his darling wife after all.

He even gifted you an antique sewing machine, a vintage 1902 Singer Treadle. You don’t “use” it, but you learned how to just for fun. It’s a lovely decoration of your hobby at the least.

And, yes, you did make a tie for him. Two actually, but you only gave him the second one, insisting that the first was practice only.

It quickly becomes his favorite and he always wears it to important meetings. It’s like having you right there with him for support.

It also becomes quite the talking piece at one of the RFA parties when a member of the Cultured Citizens asks about the brand and price.

“This tie was handmade by my wife and is certainly priceless.”

707:

He already knew because of course he did.

He would often send you (jokingly) ridiculous “orders” with impossible time frames, including:

An iridescent “Statue of Liberty” costume - 3 days

Twenty-seven onesies for ducks - 4 days

A prom dress made of pasta - 3 days

An overnight yeti costume

The two of you would banter about it in the chatroom until someone told you guys to knock it off, it was never not fun.

Whenever you finished a new piece or outfit for yourself, you would try it on and call him while standing in front of the camera in the apartment, asking for his opinion.

The cat-themed overall skirt was the one that broke him. You were just so cute with all the decorated pockets~! And the buttons looked like little cats too! You’re just too precious~

After the dust of the first party settled and Saeyoung had his brother back, you took it upon yourself to make Saeran some new clothes. He was going to be your brother-in-law, after all, you wanted to make him feel welcome.

Of course, it then turned into making both boys some new clothes as you kept thinking of new ideas. Not that you minded, this was your passion after all.

I think Saeyoung would also give you your own room/studio in the bunker. A place where you could spread out without worry. (Vanderwood was just grateful he didn’t have to keep cleaning up thread)

Saeyoung was also happy to help with any repairs your sewing machine needed, or he’d just make you a new one… or three… with some—interesting—added features.

“Saeyoung, dear, I don’t think my machine needs a Ph.D Pepper dispenser.”

“But what if my honey gets thirsty while she works?!”

“...But won’t the sewing shake up all the carbonation? It would explode on my pretty clothes T^T”

“OMG! I’m so sorry!! I’ll take it out right away!!”

This kind of conversation happens regularly.

Eventually, there was one top-secret project that you were working on… one that you made Saeyoung swear not to snoop through. Even going so far as to have Saeran keep an eye out to make sure his brother stayed true to his word. (He did but he whined about it)

The project took a long time and you had to have Saeran help you order the materials in secret.

Saeyoung didn’t like being kept in the dark, it made him uneasy. You assured him it was okay and that you just didn’t want the surprise to be ruined.

He was still uneasy, but he trusted you.

And it was all worth it in the end…

When you walked down the aisle in your handmade wedding dress, glittering and shining like stars in the night sky you both loved so much.

[rrenzwrld]

if you catch my drift…

in which you have a crush on mighty football player! reiner and sasha tries to help you out with it — might make it into a series idk 🤷🏽‍♀️

ik it’s been a few days, but i wanted to mix it up a bit by writing something about reiner <3 i hope you enjoy!

Reiner Braun was a fairly big guy, both inside and out. He used his strong and burly figure to be a part of the college football team and help out with his family’s construction business whenever her came home for the weekend. He had big hands, that he used to do those construction jobs and got frustrated with them when he had to use them to work on smaller projects in his life. And he also had big heart, which he used to allow people to take advantage of him once they got pass the intimidation of his size. And not to mention that he was absolutely gorgeous to look at.

The people that knew him would describe him as some kind of big teddy bear. He was scary to encounter just because of his towering height or the fact that he looked angry all the time, but if someone got him to laugh, smile, or fall in love, he was the absolute sweetest. You of all people knew that because he was in love with you. Because he was in love with you and all things you, you were the person he was most sweetest to. The only downside to his love was that you didn’t know about it, you just thought he was being nice to you as one of his friends.

“Girl take the hint, that man is in love with you!” Sasha tried to drill into your brain for the hundredth time this year. You wanted to believe it, you really did. You even had your own little mini fantasies about how it’d feel to be his but in your mind there was no way he was in love with you over some thin, prissy white girl. Besides, you never saw him look your way so you pretended not to look his way.

You rolled your eyes and continued typing way on your laptop. “I wish..” You mumbled. You did get a bit sad as you thought about it some more. As cool as it’d be to imagine being his girlfriend, going on dates, kissing him, hugging him, and other things, you didn’t think it’d be real life if that actually happened to you.

“I say you should try shooting your shot. What’s the worse that could happen?” You turned to her.

“I get my heart broken and give up on love forever. And besides, everyone knows that dating athletes is a bad idea anyways.” Sasha shakes her head in annoyance as you tried to justify your reasoning to not take a chance at getting with your dream guy.

“Well if you won’t do it, I will— look! there he goes now..” You thought Sasha was playing with you like normal but when you looked towards the entrance to the library, there he was. All handsome in his sweats and jacket. ‘He wore a beanie today’ you thought to yourself and your heart softened at the sight.

“Sasha, don’t do no stupid shit—“

“Too late. Reiner!” He didn’t hear her at first because he had headphones in but he took them off after Sasha yelled his name another four times.

“Oh my god..” You groaned as you tried to do the rest of your work and pretend to be completely unaware that Reiner was on his way to where you were.

“Hey, Reiner~” Sasha cooed and you mentally cringed in your head.

“Hey, um.. you need something?”

“Nope, just wanted to say hi. And I think Y/n wanted to say hi too. Say hi to Reiner, Y/n!” You looked up for a second and waved quickly before narrowing your eyes back down at your screen. He didn’t even have enough time to wave back.

“She seems.. busy.” A small frown crept onto his face but he hoped it wasn’t noticeable. He was kinda sad that you didn’t really seemed to be bothered with him right now, but he just blamed it on the fact that you were busy. So he figured he should just leave you alone.

“I’m gonna go… Bye, Sash.”

Sasha made sure he left for sure before speaking “That was your chance~!” She held onto your shoulders and shook them as she whined.

“Chance at what?” Your words were bumped over with each shake Sasha gave you.

“To talk to him at least!”

She stopped shaking you. “I do talk to him!”

“Yeah right! You two need to have a serious conversation. Like share your traumatic experiences or something to get closer.” You hated to admit it, but Sasha was right. You hadn’t talked to Reiner and when you did, it was always kinda awkward. He’d act weird around you so that’s why you thought that what Sasha was trying to imply was complete bullshit. But in her defense, you could be a little dense.

“Doubt that’ll work.”

“You two are gonna be together, trust.” Sasha declared as she gathered up her things and swung her bag over her shoulder. When Sasha wanted something to happen, best believe that she’ll find a way to make it happen and that’s what worried you.