#I’m in love with my own au. please send more prompts.

[navybrat817]

On the Rocks

Pairing: Bartender!Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Summary: You're not sure why Ari doesn't seem to like you, but you two have to work together.

Word Count: Over 2.4k

Warnings: Tension, coworkers, bit of grumpy and sunshine, misunderstanding, future smut, Ari Levinson and he's slightly rude at first (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy this intro to my Gin and Bear It AU. @spectre-posts requested bartender!Ari to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #13 in bold. TECHNICALLY not smut, but there will be smut in future parts. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren't one to brag, but you were good at your job. You showed up on time and stayed late if necessary. Never dropped a tray or drink. Didn't skip out on cleaning or any other tasks. And not only were you attentive with your customers, you showed just enough skin to keep it professional and never went home with anyone at the end of the night. Your work ethic helped you earn the respect of just about everyone at the establishment.

Except for Ari Levinson.

You eyed the gorgeous bearded man behind the bar, your blood rushing faster through your veins. He didn't spare you a glance. He hardly ever did. Everyone else who worked there got a smile from him. Even a smirk. But you? An unimpressed look was what you got on a good day. You chalked it up to you being a new member of the staff, until the barback who started after you received kinder treatment from him.

To be fair, it wasn't like Ari hated you. He didn't seem to particularly like you either. For the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. Maybe there wasn't a specific reason. Some people just didn't mesh well. It didn't stop you from treating him like every other coworker. The two of you had to work together whether he liked it or not.

“Hey,” you smiled as you stopped at the bar and set your tray down. You waited a second for him to acknowledge you, but he kept drying glasses. “Three Jack and Cokes, please.”

That got Ari's attention. He didn't have to greet you, but you both had a job to do. You waited in silence while he made the drinks. He didn't look at you, but you looked at him.

He was in good shape. Great shape, in fact. With his large and somewhat intimidating size, you were surprised he wasn't a bouncer. He was a good bartender though. He wouldn't have a job there if he wasn't.

It wasn't right how attracted you were to him since he never seemed to give you the time of day.

“Thanks,” you said when he set the drinks on the tray for you.

He grunted and turned to put the bottle back.

“You know, we’ve been working together for almost three months. One of these days you may actually carry on a conversation with me instead of answering me with random sounds,” you teased.

“I'm here to work, not chat,” he said over his shoulder, his deep voice sending a wonderful shiver down your spine despite his statement. “You should do the same.”

You sighed when you picked up the tray. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

Like always.

“Don't need friends.”

It was a bit of an odd statement. You said friendly, not friends specifically. “Aren't Steve and Bucky your friends?” You asked. They were two of the other bartenders. Best friends and good to the rest of the staff. Protective, too, always quick to jump in if a customer got mouthy or handsy.

Ari’s jaw clenched as he faced you, but you didn't cower. “Yeah, they are.”

You may not have cowered under his gaze, but you sure as hell felt small the longer he looked at you. “But you don't want to be my friend,” you said.

“I don't need more friends,” he said dismissively as your stomach dropped. You wished it didn't hurt to hear that and you had to blink rapidly when you felt a familiar telltale burning in your eyes. “Anything else?”

Plastering a smile back on your face that didn't quite reach your eyes, you straightened up. “Noted. We aren't and won't be friends,” you said before you added with more bite than you intended, “And don't worry, Ari. I don't need anything from you.”

He must've noticed the shift in your tone, too, since his jaw clenched harder than before. You walked off before he had a chance to say anything, cursing yourself inwardly at your tone. You shouldn't have let his dismissal get under your skin. Besides, he was right. You were there to work and your customers needed their drinks.

So, why did it bother you so much that Ari didn't want to be your friend? It shouldn't matter. There were lots of people who worked together who never talked or saw each other outside of their jobs. You wished he would've given you a chance, but you’d respect his decision.

For the rest of the night though, you planned to avoid him like the plague.

As your shift went on, you felt Ari’s eyes on you. Instead of looking back at him or giving him a smile like usual, you ignored him or acted like he wasn't there. You didn't stop at his end of the bar, going instead to Steve to get your drinks. For the first time since you started working there, you had Ari's full attention.

And for once, you didn't want it.

By the end of your shift once you wrapped up just about all of your tasks, you were ready to get out of there. “Any plans after closing?” You asked Steve, counting out tips for him.

“I might be seeing someone,” he smiled gently, his gaze flickering to a woman sitting alone at a table.

You raised an eyebrow. Patrons hit on the guys all the time, but it was rare for them to take anyone home. “Well, I hope you have a good time,” you said before nodding over to Bucky who was sitting at the bar, too. “Isn't it your night off?”

Bucky smiled softly. “It is, but my girl should be here in a few minutes. We won't stay long.” His girl had gone through some heartbreak before she rolled into town and the brunette quickly became her knight in shining armor.

“You have fun, too,” you said, sliding off the stool with a sigh.

Steve’s brows pinched. “You okay?”

“I will be,” you said, not wanting to lie to him and pretend you were fine. You also didn't want to get into what was going on. Feeling sorry for yourself didn't do you any good and everything would be okay tomorrow.

“You sure?” Steve swung his head toward Ari. “You think I didn't notice that you haven't been back to that end of the bar?”

You glanced in that direction, inhaling sharply as you met Ari’s gaze. He crossed his arms as he stared you down, tension as thick as fog. All you could see were the blue of his eyes and you had to look away so you didn't lose yourself.

“Just an off night. Nothing to worry about,” you said, pushing over Steve’s cut. “And I’m out for the night unless you need anything else.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. “Need one of us to walk you out?” Bucky offered.

“No, I’m good,” you said, sighing again when you realized you’d have to pass by Ari to leave. You also had to give him his tips. “Enjoy the rest of the night.”

Ari stood in the same spot as you walked toward him, your heart beating erratically. One day he may not make your heart race like that. “Night,” you smiled sadly, setting his tips down on the bar and walking on.

You grabbed your bag from the backroom and headed out for the evening with your keys in hand, shivering at the slight chill in the air. It wasn't until you were about halfway to your car that you heard footsteps behind you, making you tense up. Maybe you should've had someone walk you out.

“Hey.” It was Ari. “Wait up.”

You stopped and turned to face him with a quizzical look. “Why? Do you need something?”

Ari looked up at the night sky and ran a hand through his long hair, but didn't reply. You were two seconds away from walking to your car when you heard above a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” You asked when he met your eye. “Sorry for what exactly?”

“I was an asshole to you earlier,” he replied, surprising you as he took a step forward. “Been kind of an asshole to you since day one when you've been nothing but friendly.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said. Why did it matter now?

A stricken look crossed his features before he put up his mask again. “Why were you so nice to me then when I was an asshole to you?”

You shrugged, trying to convey that it wasn't a big deal. “Because I had no reason to be rude to you, Ari,” you replied. It was that simple. “I was upset earlier though and I did avoid your side of the bar, but it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“But-”

“You don't have to like me. You really don't,” you told him, the words bittersweet. “But we do have to work together. So as long as we’re civil to each other, it’s fine.”

You fought the urge to step back when Ari took another step forward. There was usually a bar between the two of you when you stood near him. Up close with nothing between you showed just how large he was. And he smelled good, too, because of course he did. “I never said I didn't like you.”

“Maybe not with words, but your actions kind of said it for you. Seriously, there’s an obvious difference in your demeanor with me versus everyone else,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, there is,” he agreed, his blue eyes full of regret. At least he acknowledged that.

“Not to mention, you just said tonight that you didn't need more friends. Between that and your attitude, the natural assumption is that you don't like me,” you said. What else were you meant to think?

He nodded. “I can see why you’d think that, but I'm sorry.”

Both of you stayed quiet for a moment. You weren't exactly sure what to say. “Okay, well. Apology accepted, I guess. Good night.”

“Wait,” he said when you began to turn away. “Do you really wanna know what I thought about you when you started working here?”

The skeptical look was back on your face. “I’ll admit I'm curious, but I won't just stand here if you’ll continue to be an asshole to me.”

He chuckled. Did you actually make him laugh? “I wouldn't expect you to,” he said, taking a breath. “This might get me fired if you complain.”

“Just say it, please,” you half begged. “Whatever it is, it can't be-”

“I wanted to bend you over the bar and fuck you ‘til you screamed my name.”

You sputtered, an embarrassing sort of sound. It wasn't what you expected to hear. Ari Levinson wanted to fuck you? Since the moment you met?

“You what?” You asked, wanting to hear him say it again.

“I want you and I’ve imagined fucking you all over the bar every day since you started working here. The tables, the booths, the office, against the wall, even in the bathroom stalls,” he spoke, his voice deep and confident as you tried not to whimper. How were you already wet? “But not just that.”

You bit your lip. “What else?”

His gaze softened. “I think about your smile. You have such a beautiful smile.” You did whimper this time. Since when was praise so important? “And how you giggle at bad jokes. And how you sway your hips to the songs you like. And how you're just so fucking kind, even to those who don't deserve it.”

“You like me?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

You held up a hand, your head spinning from his confession. “Wait. Hold on,” you said, trying to get your bearings and not throw yourself into his arms. You needed to have some self respect. “You’ve been an asshole to me because you like me?”

Why do men do dumb things?

Ari winced. “Not my smartest plan, I’ll admit, but I thought pushing you away before anything happened was the best move.”

“Why though? Why push me away?” You asked.

He clenched and unclenched his fists. “I don't like to mix business with pleasure. Been there, done that.” It wasn't a secret that Ari was single, but there was a story there. “But that doesn't excuse being cold toward you. And if you’re willing, I’d like to start over.”

You searched his gaze for sincerity and found it. “So would I.”

His expression softened more, relieved. The fact that he wanted to try gave you hope for things moving forward. “And maybe we can grab a coffee at the diner? Just talk?”

Your eyes rounded. Was Ari asking you out? “When? Now?” You asked.

He smiled. “If you’re free.”

You smiled back and shook your head. “Nope. Sorry, Ari.”

Ari's smile fell immediately. “No?” He repeated the word in disbelief. You were in disbelief yourself. “No you aren't free or no you don't want to hang out with me?”

“Any other day, I’d love to have a coffee with you and talk or for you to make good on that promise of bending me over the bar and making me scream your name. But tonight?” You batted your eyes for good measure. “No, I don't.”

“Oh.” Ari blinked and cleared his throat. “I guess that makes sense after how I acted.”

“It makes perfect sense. A quick apology doesn't get you off scott free for how you treated me,” you told him, taking a step closer yourself this time. “So change my mind.”

“Change your mind?”

“Yeah. Let's start over like you suggested and you find a way to change my mind. I'm not saying you have to be overly friendly during our shifts, but treat me a little better. Show me why I should give you a chance and ask me again later,” you answered, gliding your fingers along his forearm once you were close enough. “And I'll still be nice to you. I promise.”

“So, you want me to woo you?” He smirked after a moment, one that nearly made your panties melt. “I can do that.”

You giggled. “I think I deserve it.”

“You do. And my first step in mending things,” he said, offering his arm as he stepped back. “How about I walk you to your car?”

“You may,” you smiled, linking your arm with his. You felt him flex a bit and you almost giggled again, a spring in your step as you walked. One day you’d feel him pin you down with that strength. You’d be patient though.

After all, he promised to woo you first.

How do we think he'll make it up to you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[gunwoo-bh]

The Night Shift - Part 2 [Min Yoongi x f!Reader]

MIN YOONGI x F!READER UniStudent!Yoongi AU SUMMARY: You chose a boring, quiet job at your campus's 24-hour library for a reason: it kept you away from drama, gossip, and parties. It was positively uneventful. Until it wasn't. Warnings: some more swearing, some fluff?, it's pretty tame, teasing (y'all i don't know how to do warnings, i'll learn) A/N: WOW! Everyone, thank you SO much for all the love on that first chapter?? (is that what I'm calling it, I'm not sure) I never expected that, and I'm so grateful so thank you so much! Here's a continuation. I don't know what I'm doing exactly with this, if it's gonna turn into a fic or something but I'm just enjoying it for what it is. Pardon the grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!

THE NIGHT SHIFT

PART 2

Yoongi’s mother calls a cab for you, amidst your polite protest. She insists, and you relent. She’s far too sweet, but the mere idea of you staying in this restaurant any longer under Yoongi’s inquisitive stare is too much. He stands beside his mother, cleaning up behind the counter while listening to her end of the phone call to the cab company. He’s eavesdropping on whatever conversation you two may have once she finishes her call. You find it easier to stare at your own hands rather than have a conversation or make eye contact with him. 

“Taxi is on his way,” your attention snaps back to her, “and it’ll make it so much easier for you.”

You bow politely. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

She playfully shrugs, “Nonsense. No way I can let you carry all of this by yourself.” Her smile is warm and kind. You can’t help but smile right back. She turns to her son, nudging him.

“Go help your dad.” His eyes meet his mom’s, nodding and hesitantly walking to the kitchen with one final glance to the both of you. She looks back to you with the warmest smile. “Do you know each other?” 

The question startles you, glancing from her to the spot Yoongi had stood a moment ago. “Oh. Oh! Well, not exactly. We just go to the same school. I’ve seen him around.” You try to make it sound as casual as you can and not like you had just spent breakfast that morning trying to figure out his name.

She kept looking at you like there was more she wished she could say, but you were not just someone who went to the same school as her son. You were a customer. So she held back. She perks up, looking over your shoulder, making you follow her sight line. The cab. A wave of relief washes over you, prompting you to grab both bags of food. She helps keep the door open for you, following you out until she has you safely seated in the taxi. Making sure the food is safe, you grab your phone with one hand to text your friends.

You [8:59 PM]: On my way back. You’ll never guess what happened.

You’re about to put it away when the text bubbles appear, snorting at your friend’s curiosity. 

Eunji [8:59 PM]: Don’t tease us. Unnie.

Hwayoung [9:00 PM]: You’re gonna wait to tell us until we’re home, aren’t you?

You [9:00 PM]: (shrugging and winking emoji) 

The taxi ride doesn’t take very long. Carefully, you bring the bags inside and up the elevator to your apartment. With some difficulty, you finally make it inside, kicking your shoes off and getting into your slippers. You can hear noise in the kitchen right around the corner, peeking your head around it when you meet Eunji’s eyes. She runs to help you, curiosity radiating off her while taking the bags out of your hands. You saunter to the kitchen island and lean on it while the girls start taking the food out. 

“So,” you start, “I’m gonna be dramatic for a second, but I will get over it.” They nod, mindlessly putting food out while simultaneously listening to you. “We can never order or send me in there because the people who own the place are, drumroll please, Min Yoongi’s parents.” Both girls have their mouths open in shock, the quietest you’ve ever seen them with news of this kind. “Okay, being dramatic? Over. But seriously, what are the odds? Oh, and did I mention I think he works there? How do I know? Because he was there.” 

You sigh dramatically, shuffling over to the couch. “So, what booze did you buy, and can I join?”

Your friends chuckle, knowing very well that, given the chance to drink, you will refuse it. “Also, let’s just get this movie night started. I need a distraction.” You all get ready to sit down in the living room to start your rom-com evening, trying to keep your mind focused on anything but the last 24 hours. 

Min Yoongi has a reason for everything. He’s practical like that. And that’s why he keeps things close to the vest except with a few people. But he never expected a freak out of this magnitude coming from his friends. He’s exasperated, glaring at Seokjin as he sits amongst his friends, listening to him go over what just happened. Yoongi usually goes to the library during the night when insomnia hits him because not only can he avoid the large crowds of students, but he also gets some time alone. 

When he went to the library this morning to get some work done, he had never anticipated his friend to find him at the crack of dawn. Yoongi should have known that glancing back to you, the pretty night shift desk clerk, would come bit him in the ass. Because since 6 AM he hasn’t stopped hearing about it, and it is nearly lunchtime now. Seokjin hasn’t stopped retelling the story the moment one of their friend joins the table.

“Yaaaaah…” Yoongi groans, rubbing his face. “Either tell it once but stop telling every single time one of them shows up.”

The boys laugh at their friend’s frustration. His childhood friend Namjoon rubs his shoulder, “They’re just teasing…you never get caught checking girls out. Let us have some fun.” 

Yoongi swore he would keep his somewhat silly one-sided crush on you to himself. Why? Because of this. He knows that they’re being playful, and if he was to be honest with them about his crush, they would most likely help him out. And that is exactly why he never wanted to say a thing. He didn’t need help. Because he didn’t want it. Yoongi never wanted to be given hope that his interest could be reciprocated, so watching you from afar made more sense to him. Until this morning. When Seokjin had to make a big deal of Yoongi looking back to you. 

He knows this will die down, at least for tonight, but he knows his friends better. Especially the few in their friend group who are more likely to involve themselves in playing matchmaker. He knows one thing. He loves these guys so much, he would be willing to do anything for them, but matchmakers? They are not. Seokjin and Namjoon may have girlfriends, but they never stopped wanting to set their friends up on blind dates or playing matchmaker at every turn. 

Yoongi watches them tease their other friends for being single, which then turns into the single guys teasing how sappy the taken ones have gotten since being in relationships. He licks his lips, trying to hide the grin threatening to grace his features, but he’s amused at how easily a subject is brought up and then forgotten. He knows he won’t live it down, but for the moment, he just might.

Now in his third year of university, he’s managed to keep a pretty low profile. He knows how lucky he is to have come into this with some friends, meeting a few new ones along the line, which now formed his tight-knit group of friends. He didn’t need more, but watching his closest friends enter relationships made him crave something similar. He’s happy for his friends, though. If anybody deserve to be happy in a relationship? It’s them. All of them.

He looks down at his phone and sighs, standing up, “Gotta go. Work.” 

Yoongi is clearing a table when he hears the door open and shut, his mother thanking the departing customers as he smiles fondly at her kind tone. No wonder she works the front and his father works in the kitchen, she has the best social skills of their entire family. Yoongi is lucky enough to have inherited some of her skills, although he prefers the kitchen with his father, too. 

Digging in his apron for his phone, he sighs before stretching his back and looking down at the time. He shakes his head when he realizes there are still a few hours left to the night. Grabbing the tray of plates and cutlery, he returns to the back to wash them while his father prepares a pick-up order. He stops midway through his task to help prepare the order, putting the food in the containers and making it look visually appealing. He and his father are working silently when his mother comes in the back.

“Honey,” both of them raise their heads, “the pick-up order is here.”

“Mhm~.” His father nods, and Yoongi begins bagging all the items. He ties the bags neatly, ensuring everything is ready to go. He slips a menu pamphlet into the bag and nods to his father once they are both satisfied. Grabbing both bags, he heads out of the back, nearly bumping into his mother, who immediately tries to reach for one of the heavy bags. He attempts to protest, but one light glare makes him concede, handing her the lighter of the two as he follows her. Carefully avoiding tripping over the step leading to the main counter, he looks up at his mother, but his eyes immediately snap to the young woman standing across from her.

It’s you. 

His entire body is rooted to the ground, staring ahead for what feels like way too long when you make eye contact with him. Shit. Why are his hands sweaty all of a sudden? He places the second bag on the counter, licking his lips over and over before busying himself with a task. Mindlessly, he grabs a cloth to wipe the main counter and display case, pretending to pay no mind to your conversation. Yoongi feels his heart pulsating as he listens to his mother call a taxi for you. 

As he attempts to get closer, barely reaching his mother’s side, he gets gently elbowed, which snaps his attention to her, “Go help your dad.” And just like that, he retreats to the kitchen with one final look over his shoulder at you. 

He releases a shaky breath, leaning against the wall before focusing back on the dishes he had abandoned earlier. He’s lost in thought when two hands come and rest on his shoulders, startling him. Eyes wide, he looks to his mother and releases a sigh of relief, “You scared me…” She hums but has a mischievous look, and he immediately shakes his head, “No,” he adds, “mom, don’t…”

His father looks up to mother and son, brows furrowed, “She said you go to school together…” 

Shaking his head, Yoongi sighs, “Mom, we just go to the same school…” 

His mom goes silent, staring at him as he avoids her eyes. She squeezes his shoulders affectionately and kisses the back of his head, “I’m going to lock the doors, why don’t you let us clean up, mhm? Go back home.” 

It’s his turn to grab her shoulders, rubbing them gently, “No, it’ll go quicker if I help you. Let me take some leftovers over for the boys; that’ll make them happy.” He feels her pat his head, making him grin. “I’ll start cleaning…”

2 AM in the library for sure is quiet. No disturbances. No chaos. Just silence and the occasional clicking of keys on a laptop, scribbling of pen on paper, or the occasional book dropping from a shelf. It’s all so familiar, and nothing about it catches you off guard anymore. Nearly a week has passed since your first meeting with Min Yoongi, and the excitement over the entire matter had finally dwindled. You hadn’t seen him again on campus, or at the library for that matter, and you can’t even lie to yourself; you’re mildly disappointed. 

You will note, though, that Namjoon has been reaching out to you while in your class. Well, reaching out is quite literally a reach; more like he has been saying hello to you, holding the door, or acknowledging you in the halls. It makes you wonder if this is just a coincidence, but letting your already overthinking brain rest seems like the best solution. No point in reading into something that just isn’t a thing.

Right?

You’re on your second lap around for the night, taking your sweet time since there is no homework waiting for you downstairs. You’re cleaning up a table, completely lost in your head, when you hear someone clearing their throat, startling you to twist your body around in one swift movement. 

No freaking way. 

“Hi.” Yoongi stands before you, and you’re mouthing the air, unable to find your words. “I need your help finding a book.”

Speak, damn it. Use your words. 

“Uh,” great start, “which one?” Your mouth feels so dry as he shows you the title on his phone. You lean forward a little to read it better, recognizing the textbook he was looking for. “Oh, wasn’t this what you were looking for last time?”

His eyes widen, shocked you’d remember, “Mhm. It is.” At your confused look, he adds, “It wasn’t there last time. So…” he trails off. 

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek, “Follow me?”

You abandon the stack of books on the table, walking towards the stairs to the third floor. You can feel him following behind you. Not only is your mind racing but so is your heart. You reach the third floor without any mishap like you tripping over your own feet. Yoongi follows closely behind you, keeping up with your fast pace as you whip past aisle after aisle. You know exactly where you’re going, and it’s obvious. 

Slowing down, you start looking up until your eyes light up when you see exactly what it is you’re looking for, and the sight makes the corner of Yoongi’s lips curl in the slightest. You reach up at the very tip of your toes to grab it, looking it over to make sure it was the right copy and also in one piece. You remember his presence when you face him and extend the book to him, Yoongi reaching to grab it from you, fingers brushing in the exchange. 

“I’m sorry it was out for so long. I hope you didn’t have an urgent need for it.” He shakes his head while you speak.

“No, it’s mostly personal curiosity.” This makes you smile. “And boredom.” You giggle, and the sound makes his chest tighten. He did that. He made you laugh.

“Well, glad I could help.” You both stand there in the middle of the aisle, him holding onto that book like a lifeline and you with your hands now in the pockets of your cardigan, playing with your student ID to keep yourself from freaking out. 

He steps aside after a moment, letting you move first as you both begin your descent back to the main floor. You tell yourself you’ll get a moment to breathe when he checks the book out and leaves because that’s all there is left to do. He hesitates when he walks past the main desk. You’ve settled back in the chair, pretending not to care that he’s still around. But you watch him at the self-checkout counter, strands of hair falling in his eyes while he digs out his student ID to scan it. 

He’s handsome, and you hate how your focus moves from his face to his broad shoulders, lean but athletic physique, to his hands. You feel just how fast your heart is beating when you press your hand against your chest. The familiar ‘ding’ of the self-checkout catches your attention as he steps back, waiting on the small piece of paper printing. He snatches it and slips it between the pages of the book, glancing back to you. 

For a moment, you think he’s just going to continue turning around to leave, but he instead walks toward where you are sitting. Your mouth goes desert dry until he stops just shy of walking straight into the desk, “Uh,” he starts, “wanted to say thanks for the help.”

All you do is nod for a moment, humming, “Yeah, of course…anytime.”

Your eyes are trained on his lips and the way he’s chewing them, but you notice the way his brows furrow while looking down to where your laptop is, “What are those?” You quickly look to where his focus is, noticing the remnants of your previous adventure to the vending machine.

You immediately blush, mildly embarrassed, “Oh, uh, those are what’s left of my cheap attempt at a snack. I left home in a hurry, I forgot my lunch…” you admit. 

He doesn’t say a thing, but he remains focused like he’s in the deepest train of thought before nodding to himself, “Well, thanks again. You have a good night.”

You sit up in your chair, mouthing the air, “Oh, yeah, you too…”

And just like that…he’s gone. 

And you wish he wasn’t. What an odd feeling it is to want a stranger’s company. 

You’re absent-minded for the next little while, lost in your own thoughts. You’re overthinking every single minute of that interaction with him to a point where the only way you can distract yourself is to take a walk around the library to take your mind off of it. You return to the second floor to finish the earlier task Yoongi interrupted, lazily returning the books to their rightful spot. Anything becomes a task to distract yourself. You don’t even notice the time pass until you get a text, phone buzzing in your pocket. Instead of looking at it, you snap your head to the clock on the wall. 

You gasp. 5 AM?! 

That much time had passed since 2 AM. You put the book cart away and head downstairs to do one final check. In absolute disbelief that you lost so much time being in your head that you don’t notice the new item sitting on your laptop. Only when you return to pack your things do you finally take notice. 

The first time you walk past it, you don’t clock it, you think, but the second time, the bright orange colour catches your attention from the corner of your eyes, enough to make you stop, frown, double take, and step up to your laptop. Placed right in the middle of it sits a fruit. 

A tangerine. 

You’re confused, looking around to see if anyone you know could be the reason why this fruit is sitting there, but your attention turns to the blue post-it note under the tangerine instead. Grabbing the fruit in your one hand, you take the note in the other and read the message left on it. 

Your breath catches in your throat.

Your skin suddenly feels warm, heat rising from your chest to your neck and, finally, your face. If you were to look at yourself in the mirror right now, you’re certain you’d look funny to anyone walking by. You immediately cover your face with the hand holding onto the note, looking at the tangerine in the other. You do a full 360 to make sure no one is looking at you while you’re standing there, giggling to yourself before you take one final look at the note. 

Night shifts are tough…tangerines are good for energy, and for a snack. 

MYG

Again, thank you everybody and I hope you enjoy this part too!

Post separator credit to @hyuneskkami

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: this one came out of no where.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s uncharacteristically grim on the plains of Debray. Rains pelt the tall green grasses, flattening them in a slanted downpour that dims the horizon. Clouds blot out the daylight and lend to atmosphere of unease in the warring lands. 

Behind the castle walls, one can forget about the bloodshed staining the counties red, though it is all the dukes and his audience can speak of. The lords that bluster through those gates, sometimes at the toll of morning, some in the black swathes of night. You can’t count them all, you can name even fewer, but they come anon and leave just as brusquely. 

A peel of thunder shakes the land and a dark line limns the curve of the horizon. What appears first as a storm cloud advances quickly through the fields, appearing more clearly to the naked eye, distant nonetheless. Men. Another party fast on the approach. 

The alarm goes up at a man’s holler. Ethred, man at the gate hollers to the other men in mail. Niam peers out from the vantage of the tower and calls back down. A hush falls and bodies scurry all around, metal clinking and boots crunching. There’s something amiss. Something you can’t quite place. 

You turn away from the window, the steam rising from the basin in your hand swirling around your head. You carry on down the corridor, wool skirts around cautious steps as you balance the swaying water in the vessel. You approach the lady’s door and give it a rap with your knee. Merinda, another handmaid, opens it from within. 

You enter without a word and place the basin on the vanity table. The duke’s daughter preens herself with a painted fan, fluttering her lashes at her reflection as her curls spill down her long back. She tilts her head this way and that. She snaps the fan shut and puts it down, touching her soft brown cheeks with a devilish grin. 

“Do you know what father mentioned last eve?” Jazlene asks with a vain flutter of her lashes. 

“What did he mention?” Her mother, Lady Rezlyn prompts lazily as she plucks another cherry from a dish heaped in fruit. 

“A husband,” the daughter grins coyly at herself, “it is well due, isn’t it, mother? Who do you think it might be? Lord Gai, perhaps? He is young still.” 

“Perhaps the Earl of Mesafin,” her mother taunts back to a disgusted gasp. 

“Do not,” Jazlene pouts, “I could never... I am much too pretty for that haggard beast.” 

“Well, then, who might you have, precious?” Rezlyn goads. 

There is a clamour in the hall that keeps the younger of the woman from answering. She rolls her eyes and darkly glare at the door. You peer back behind your shoulder as a wail goes up carrying her father’s name; ‘Lord Dustan!’ 

“What is all that?” Jazlene whines, “as if it isn’t enough with the rain and the winds. It is summer!” 

“It’s always summer in Debray, darling,” Rezlyn scoffs, “otherwise I’d have never married your father. Pray you don’t hook yourself a winter lord.” 

You peek over your shoulder as you stand near the door, in your vigil, awaiting your next order. You face the ladies again as the elder continues to feast and the younger fusses over her thick brows. You scrunch your lips back and forth, a habit that often has your jaw aching. 

Jazlene turns to narrow her eyes at you, “what is it then? What has you making faces?” 

You bow your head, appeasing her ego, “my lady, there were men coming. A party approaching from the north.” 

“There are always men,” she shakes her head, “who was it then? Anyone I should wear silk for?” 

Her mother laughs, “I warn you, daughter, that trite tongue will not endear any husband.” 

“I do not know, lady,” you answer. 

“Ugh, useless, must I work as my own handmaid?” Jazlene tisks, “come, pin my hair. Merinda find me a gown. Mother... wipe the dribble from your chin.” 

“Eh, watch yourself,” Lady Rezlyn rises and wipes her lips with her sleeve. She wears muslin in a dark shade of burgundy, embroidered with little copper finches. “Or hope you marry above me before you lash that tongue at me.” 

Jazlene merely trills with laughter. You take the pins and work at twisting her fine curls into place. Merinda brings to her a dress of teal satin and is promptly shooed away, “something pink. It brings out my bosom.” 

You ignore her bawdy jest as her mother harrumphs. You work in quiet tandem with the other handmaid. You add a touch of paint to the lady’s cheeks and kohl around her eyes. You tint her lips with pigment and she pushes out her lips at the mirror. You help Merinda dress her, pulling the noble daughter’s corset tight enough to leave her lightheaded. 

The pair of ladies, elder and younger, leave the chamber with you at their skirt tails. They sweep through the corridors with chins up. They are queens in their own minds. Their fine dresses and sparkling gems are untouched by the disparity of war. The lives lost are squares on a game board, tawdry talk for men in their studies. 

“Lord Dustan,” Lady Rezlyn mimics the earlier call for the lord of the castle, “my husband. Dear, dear husband!” 

The women go to the banister and look down upon the great hall as the flurry continues below. You and Merinda loom behind, not daring to stand at a level with the pompous nobles. You have never volunteered yourself for their impetuous lashings. 

“Woman!” Dustan booms back up, “do not trouble me now.” 

“Oh, has another lord come? Perhaps a suitor for our lovely daughter--” 

“Cease!” The duke demands hotly, “now is not the time for womanly games.” 

“Tell me it true, husband, she will be an old maid before you find a suiting son-in-law--” 

“Go away to your chambers. Now. The men who come are not to be trifled with and you lot do trifle overly much!” 

“Bah! Oh do not be so uncouth!” Rezlyn decries. 

“Father, please, is it a husband?” 

“Go before I send my guards up to put you away like thieves in a dungeon. Hear me when I warn you that this does not concern you. Not as yet,” Dustan snarls, “you would spoil this war with your puny concerns.” 

“Ugh,” his wife puts her hand to her forehead, “he does tax me. All I ask of him is to take care of us, daughter. As any husband should.” 

“I should have your lips sewn shut!” Dustan rebukes hotly, “be gone before I find a tailor.” 

The women share an aghast look. The turn back to flutter away in their skirts. You and Merinda follow them to the drawing room, closing them in as they fall onto the velvet cushions. Jazlene reclines dramatically on the chaise as her mouth mopes on a sofa. 

“Shall I be alone forever, mother?” Jazlene snivels, “why won’t he let me marry?” 

“He only wants to find the right man, that is all, darling,” Rezlyn coaxes. “He is overprotective and that is good for it means he will find a husband for you with a similar bearing.” 

“Such sweet words cannot convince me. He punishes me. When all my lady friends have wed and borne a whelp or two, I remain with the dust and stone.” 

“Do not be theatrical,” Rezlyn girds, “you are silly.” 

“I am not silly, mother. I am afraid. I am twenty and three and I have no suitor. I have only a war butchering any man who might have my hand. Why must this go on? Why must I suffer for the gripes of stubborn kings.” 

“We cannot fear. This war will be won and you will have a knight for a husband. Isn’t that better? To have a warrior you can be proud of than some bookish lord in his tower?” Rezlyn stands and moves to sit with her daughter, petting her as she cooes, “oh my beautiful, no man can resist you. You will see.” 

⚔️

Some hours pass with the restless women, pacing and chattering, about careless things beyond marriage and war. Like needlework and a banquet that should be had upon the truce. Would that the day would come sooner. 

You and Merinda stifle yawns that pass between you. The act is contagious as you stand in the tedium of the wealthy and wait for a duty to be called upon you. The hours you spend watching the women preen and swoon make you envy the stable boys and the shit shovelers. 

The noise beyond those walls continues. You heard the moat open and the clopping hooves of horses, even the clatter of carts. The voices had since hushed but footfalls carried back and forth. The wordless activity betrays an air of impatience, almost of nervousness. As the ladies within mirror the sentiment. 

Finally, as the windows darken and the candles burn brighter, a knock shakes the door. The ladies snap their heads around. Merinda is asleep on her feet as you move first. You open to a man in grey and black waits on the other side. He is not Lord Dustan’s. 

“The duchess and her daughter,” he garbles through a mouth that sounds full of salt. 

You dip your head and look to the ladies in question. There is a tension, of unease, of unknowing, of excitement turned to dread. This is not as it has been. There is not call to the dinner table. There is no buoyant introduction of a lord Dustan met as a young scamp. There is silence and fear. Has someone died? Has a battle been lost? 

The women emerge and greet the man with niceties and tight-lipped simpers. He does not pay them heed as you and Merinda exchange looks. You trail after the ladies but the man stops. He turns back, a hand on the pommel at his waist, and sneers, a furrow in his brow. 

“One of ya,” he grits. 

Jazlene says your name. She must’ve noticed Merinda swaying on her feet. If she even cares so much about a maid. You keep your head down and follow as they press on. Down the corridor and around the duke’s study, recently deemed his war room. You’ve never been within. It is not the domain of women. 

The grey and black soldier thumps on the door. Mother and daughter clasp hands. Even they can sense the unusual frigidity. The door opens from within. It is Lord Dustan. He wears a serious look on his lined face. The ladies are beckoned in and the soldier nudges you after them as you hesitate. 

Lanterns light the space from the desk at the rear of the chamber. The large table draped in maps, wooden horses, and little wooden pucks stands central on a thick rug. A figure stands behind it, head down as his burly and broad silhouette seems to sop up the shadows. 

The ladies follow the duke to stand across from the man. His head is down as he slides a horse along a road on the map. He stops it and grips it tight. He looks up and the lantern light dances on his features. You suck in a breath, as the rest do, stunned by his appearance. 

His hair is white, his eyes are a goldish yellow, pupils deep pools of black, and his square jaw is just as thick as the rest of him. You have never seen a man like him before, but you have heard of one. Of him. King Geralt of Rivia. 

You stand in similar confusion to the ladies. Their silent confoundment is broken by Duke Dustan as he nears the table. He sniffs and presses his fingers to the table top. 

“Your highness, my wife, Lady Rezlyn, and my daughter, Lady Jazlene,” he introduces. 

The women glance at each other then curtsy to the white king. He watches them dully. You fold your hands, taking it in curiously. It is rather something to witness the scene. You are so unimportant as to not be a part of it. 

“Your highness,” the recite, “it is...” 

“An honour,” Dustan finishes for them, “of course it is. We fondly welcome you and your allyship. We hope that we will be essential in ending this war. In helping you attain the peace you have so valiantly fought for--” 

The king raises his hand to silence the lord. You can’t help but quork your head. Allyship? But King Geralt, he is of Rivia, he is of the hinterland, he is the one who invaded the summer country and bid it his own. He is the foe. That is what they told you. 

“Enough...” the king speaks in a silty tone that scrapes in his throat. His eyes wander over the women and narrow. You wince as your own meet his golden irises and you shy away, putting your chin to your chest. That’s a mistake. “...words.” He slaps his hand down, “you do not win wars with words.” 

“Yes, your highness, you are correct. I know it well. It is why I invited you here. It is the very reason I made my entreaty. You have my men, they will win this war for you.” 

The king is hardly impressed by the fact. He looks back to the table and moves the horse further before turning it back. He knocks it over and stands completely straight. 

“And the daughter of Debray, your highness. To have a wife of summer’s blood, men will bend the knee. If you show them you do not mean to eradicate but to join with them,” Dustan moves to stand closer to his daughter, “isn’t she a fine queen for a fine kingdom?” 

Jazlene swoons and falls against her father. She’s fainted. Rezlyn grabs onto her other shoulder and you peek up at the chaotic scene. You come forward to help, snatching a pillow from the single couch, and you place it under Jazlene’s head as they lay her down on the floor. 

A shadow shifts as Dustan and Rezlyn fuss over their daughter, fanning and calling to her. You look up as darkness clusters over you. You see the king staring down at the scene. No, not them. He staring at you. Before he can reprimand you, you put your head down. 

You must quit that lest you find yourself at the wrong end of a switch. 

[rageserenity]

It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

[lovesickhughes]

lovesickhughes’ love letters: 500 follower celly

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

˗ˏˋ ꒰ INFO 🕊️꒱ ˎˊ˗

➳ welcome to my first celly on hockeyblr ! first off, thank you so much for 500 followers– i wouldn’t have expected so many people to come across my little niche of a hockey blog that i made on a random wednesday last year, so thank you so much for joining me 🫶🏻 in honour of your support, i would love to share my gratitude by hosting an event where you can send in any request your heart desires! please take the time to read the rules for this event, i appreciate it immensely! 🎀🤍

˗ˏˋ ꒰ RULES 🖇️꒱ ˎˊ˗

➳ i will be taking requests for the following nhl players: jack hughes, quinn hughes, luke hughes, connor bedard, trevor zegras, nico hischier & matthew knies. i’d even write for sidney crosby now, AND my husband joe burrow. i’m also open to writing for more players, so send in an ask if you’re unsure!

➳ before sending in a request, please consider reviewing my writing faq’s! you can view that here

➳ REQUESTS ARE NOW CLOSED

➳ please format the submission with the title of the love letter you would like + the prompt you’ve picked from the attached mail

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

˗ˏˋ ꒰ LOVE LETTERS ꒱ ˎˊ˗

➳ select the love letter you would like to be mailed

💌 AMORE – a letter dedicated to purely the passion and romance 「 smut 」

💌 AFFECTION – a letter dedicated to those we truly cannot express how much we love 「 fluff 」

💌 SWEETHEART – a letter dedicated to those who need a little pick-me-up 「 hurt/comfort 」

💌 DEVOTION – a letter for when we recognize our devotion to love, even in its duality 「angst」

💌 LOVEBUG – a letter dedicated to the love that out of this world 「 au 」

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

˗ˏˋ ꒰ HUGS + KISSES ☁️ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

➳ for a lovebug letter, you can request any au like a dad!au, fwb!au, childhood lovers!au, friends to lovers!au, second chance romance!au, and more! unsure? feel free to send in an ask ✉️

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ATTACHED MAIL 💌 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

➳ along with your letter, add an attachment from the provided prompts list below! feel free to make your own as well!

➳ credit goes to all authors of the attached prompt lists!

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ SMUT PROMPTS ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

⇢ one | two | three | four

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ FLUFF PROMPTS ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

⇢ one | two | three | four

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ANGST PROMPTS ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

⇢ one | two

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ HURT/COMFORT PROMPTS ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

⇢ one | two | three

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

tagging some moots! sorry if u don’t want to be tagged, just wanted to spread the word!

@asunsetgrace16 @cyberhughes @cupidbedsy @capquinn @ebsmind @fallinallincurls @gallaghersgal @goldfades @heartsforjh @heartsaturn @hughesinthebox @homestylehughes @hhughes @isaadore @lovecla @nhlclover @sweetestdesire @sweethischier @sweetestcaptainhughes @scudevils @sc0tters @toasttt11 @wannabehockeygf @wintfleur @winterbarnesblog @zzbubblegumbitchzz

[honeylations]

HUH YUNJIN x FEM!READER

Prompt: The girlies spend their day at a new cafe and Yunjin falls head over heels when she spots you working in your white sweater and grey apron.

Warnings/Notes: fluff, comedy, non idol au

“Let’s go let’s gooooo! Yunjin Unnie you’re wasting our time!!” A cutely angry Eunchae growled while tugging on her member’s black sweater in public.

“Seriously Yunjin, you’ve taken enough pictures of the streets in Seoul already!” Chaewon added which put an end to the American girl’s photography.

“You guys just don’t understand my love for photos. Fake friends you are” Yunjin joked and linked her arms with the maknae as all five girls continued walking down the street.

“This cafe better be good, Zuha. If it’s expensive and shit, I’m throwing your ass out the window” The leader spoke again to which Kazuha shivered at.

“Hey, Minjeong Unnie gave the suggestion and promised me it was worth trying so~ you can throw HER ass out the window”

They all saw the cute chalkboard sign outside the cafe that read “OPEN” and the shop was surprisingly not as busy as the girls had expected. As they fully entered, the only customer the cafe had was an occupied uni student in a booth, indulged into whatever she was typing in her computer and the music playing through her headphones.

“Ok good, it’s not crowded. Where’s the menu…woah” Yunjin said breathlessly, her sudden falter had the other members looking at her weirdly before seeing what (more like who) she was staring at.

You quickly wiped your freshly washed hands with a towel before chucking it to the side and flashing a bright smile at the group.

“Good morning, welcome to the Sunny Cafe! Are you all ready to order?”

Sakura cleared her throat as Yunjin was clearly not recovering from the daze so as the eldest, she decided to speak. “Good morning, it’s our first time coming here so we’re not too sure what to get yet”

To Yunjin, it seemed like your smile got brighter.

“No rush at all, ma’am! If you would like a recommendation, our matcha latte is a customer favourite!”

Sakura smiled sweetly towards you. “Thank you. I think my friends need a little more time to decide. Is that okay?”

“Of course, ma’am! Just give me a shout when you’re ready to order” You winked, sending a jolt in all five girls’ hearts.

“Ok, now I can agree that Yunjin’s reaction is appropriate” Chaewon sighed, unable to recover from your presence.

“Back off. My eyes were on her first” Yunjin finally spoke.

“Oh please, now you wanna talk? Grow a spine Yun. You can’t act like a weirdo everytime you see a pretty girl” Sakura complained and scanned through the menu in her hands. “But anyways since you wanna be like that, I can order for all of us—“

“No! I want to order my own!” The American stated loudly that you turned around with the same smile but Yunjin immediately cowered.

“Fine. Order your own then, brat”

Yunjin puffed her chest and approached the counter where your back was facing her so she cleared her throat. You spun around again and got your hands ready on the till.

“Hello! Ready to order—“

“HI IM YUNJIN!” The girl suddenly yelled, catching you and the other girls off guard.

Sakura face palmed and hid her face behind the menu.

“Nice to meet you Yunjin. I’m Y/n. What can I get for you?”

Yunjin was thankful you didn’t run away.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you like that”

“It’s no problem. That was probably the strongest greeting I’ve gotten today”

Yunjin leaned one arm on the counter and nervously scratched her nape. “Is that a good thing?”

“Absolutely! Makes my day a little brighter” You giggled, finding shy Yunjin so so so cute.

In fact, you marked the girl as eye candy that moment you caught a glimpse of her outside the cafe window. You spammed quick texts to your groupchat about how hot you found this girl before putting your phone away and bringing out your amazing customer service.

It was extra amazing for the pretty customers. Like Yunjin.

“I’m glad I could make your day. Can I please order that matcha latte you recommended with some extra sugar to hide the seaweed taste…Is that too picky of me to request?”

You threw your head back laughing, making Yunjin melt internally at how angelic it sounded. “I’ve had worse customers, don’t you worry. I’ll try my best to make it less…seaweedie for you. Anything else I can get you?”

“What else would you recommend?”

“This conversation is going longer than I expected. You reckon she scored her?” Chaewon whispered to the other 3 girls who could only shrug.

“Well the girl is laughing and smiling so Yunjin must be doing something right”

“Unless she’s embarrassing herself” Kazuha mumbled.

“Can she hurry up? I want to order the croissant!” Eunchae huffed and eyed the beautifully displayed pastries next to the counter.

“Patience, Eun. Let’s give Yunjin some time to at least the girls number”

“Well if you need something more sweet to balance out the matcha, our strawberry cream cake is a great choice”

“Add that in!” Yunjin pulled out her card.

“Gave you a 50% discount so just $7.50 please”

The taller girl’s eyes widened. “Woah a discount? What for?”

“For cuties like you” you winked despite your heart going crazy at your pathetic attempt of flirting.

“Oh is that so? Sad to know other people probably get the discount too” Yunjin faked a pout that you wanted to kiss so badly.

“Oh don’t seem so down. You’re the only person I’ve given that discount to. I swear!”

Yunjin smiled and tilted her head at you, like a cute puppy. “Well am I cute enough to get your number?”

“Wow, confident are we?” You smirked after seeing Yunjin pay for her food.

“Taking a chance before I lose it”

Slowly nodding at her statement, you took her receipt and scribbled your number at the top, not forgetting to add a love heart at the end.

“Awesome…” Yunjin whispered to herself as she stared at the numbers in her hand.

“Pleasure serving you, Yunjin. Hope to see a message from you soon”

“W-Wait! Are you free on the weekends? I’d like to take you out sometime…for dinner”

You smiled at her, appreciating her boldness. “I work until 3pm on the weekends so we can sort something out”

“Cool. That’s like so cool. U-Um, thank you”

“Thank you?” A chuckled escaped your lips. “For what?”

“For not thinking I’m creepy”

“You’re not even close to creepy! I’m glad we could have this conversation, Yunjin. I’ll quickly make your order so your friends don’t keep waiting” You said, pointing at the impatient girls behind the taller.

The impatient girls actually just being Eunchae.

“Oh right. Thanks again. I’m looking forward to tasting your recommendation”

“Are you done?” Eunchae grumbled closely behind, Sakura’s credit card clenched tightly in her palm.

Yunjin took notice of it and arched a brow. “You’re making Kkura Unnie pay for your baby food?”

“I JUST WANT A CROISSANT!”

Yunjin jumped out of the way and made a face. “OKAY DAMN, I’LL MOVE! Not too far from Y/n though otherwise I’ll miss her too much” Yunjin winked, almost sending you into cardiac arrest.

“So NOW you have confidence? I don’t get you sometimes” Chaewon threw her arms up in defeat as Yunjin waved her receipt with your number on it.

“That’s because I scored the pretty girl!”

Despite focusing on making Yunjin’s matcha latte, you could see her doing a silly victory dance in the corner of your eye while Eunchae was frowning, clearly hangry from all the waiting.

A/N: something cute for yall because Yunjin is a cutie patootie ❤️

[tobiosbbyghorl]

Welcome to Café for7you! | 470 Followers Event ₊˚⊹⋆

We’ve officially brewed up a family of 470 and I’m beyond grateful for every single one of you!! Your support means more than a venti caramel macchiato on a rainy day!

To celebrate, the shop is open for something special: a cozy little prompt event with five flavors. Fluff Roast, Angst Blend, Romance Cream, Crack-accino, and Trope Latte each with five unique brew!

Come sip your favorite, or ask for a custom blend!

How to Order: send request/ask

Just leave me your drink order like this

en!member:

Prompt Flavor + Number: (e.g. Fluff Roast #2)

Optional Add-ons: (Trope, AU, scenario, etc.)

Size: (Drabble / Short Fic / Headcanon)

Extras: Anything else you want me to know?

Prompt Menu

Fluff Roast

1. “You’re warm… like a latte on a snowy morning.”

2. Shared earbuds in a cozy corner booth.

3. “I made your drink just the way you like it.”

4. Bringing them their favorite coffee when they’re stressed.

5. Forehead kiss before work and a whispered “You got this.”

Angst Blend

1. “You still drink the same thing… after all this time?”

2. Watching them leave through the café window.

3. “I saved you a table… but you never came.”

4. A message written on a takeaway cup that’s never read.

5. “This place feels like us. I can’t come here anymore.”

Romance Cream

1. Late-night café confession.

2. They always meet at closing time.

3. “Let me teach you how to make my order.”

4. Holding hands under the table.

5. “I wanted to ask you out… but I kept hiding behind the counter.”

Crack-accino

1. Barista writes a flirty message on their cup every day.

2. Someone keeps stealing their order—and it leads to love.

3. Coffee shop AU but it’s haunted.

4. They get in a fake fight over who makes better latte art.

5. “You come here so often, I might as well charge you rent.”

Trope Latte

1. Coffee Shop AU (of course)

2. Friends to lovers with a shared coffee loyalty card.

3. Rainy day + one umbrella + one scarf.

4. Exes meet again at their favorite café.

5. Secret admirer leaves notes under their cup every morning.

6. add your own customized latte!!

rules ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

No decaf vibes allowed — Keep things respectful and kind in the café.

No rush orders, please — I’ll take my time crafting each piece with care.

Respect the barista (me!) — No hate, no pressure, just good vibes and creativity.

Not all prompts may be fulfilled — I’ll do my best, but some orders may be skipped if I’m not comfortable or inspired.

So grab your favorite mug, pick a flavor, and let’s brew something sweet together.

Café for7you is open — now taking orders!

permanent taglist: @ijustwannareadstuff20 @hoonielvv @rjssierjrie @firstclassjaylee

[christopherisfoive]

Hi, Jules! I hope you have a great day, whenever you read this 💖

I was wondering if you could write something with the prompts 14, 7 and 4 for Han, please.

Love your work and I'm sending you lots of kudos and appreciation 🫶

Game served, Emy ☕

Your Han one‑shot is on the table—rival‑shift chaos, jealousy sparks, hoodie swaps, and that “you’re the only one I want” moment. Dive in and let me know if the flavor hits just right! Sorry I've been delayed!

TableTop Turbulence

Pairing: Han Jisung × Reader (Y/N)

Genre: Fluff • Enemies‑to‑Lovers • Board‑Game Café AU

Prompts: Wearing each other’s clothes • “You can’t flirt your way out of this one.” • Enemies‑to‑lovers tension • Jealousy that turns into something more

Six‑oh‑three, rain streaking the front glass. You stabbed the attendance tablet as Jisung tumbled through the staff door.

“Clock’s already hot,” he chirped, shaking water from his hair.

“Clock is punctual,” you retorted. “Learn from it.”

Chris, wiping dice trays nearby, chuckled. “Y/N, if you bottle that sass I’ll sell it by the shot.”

Jisung’s grin slipped a millimeter at Chris’s easy praise. You noted the flicker, satisfaction warm.

Ella slid past carrying syrup pumps. “Hi, Jisung. Hoodie swap today?”

He winked. “Maybe if management stops glaring.”

“You can’t flirt your way out of late slips,” you shot back, snatching his apron from the hook and smacking it against his chest.

“Bet I can flirt my way into a break,” he murmured, only for you to hear.

Trivia rush hit. Ella stationed herself beside Jisung at the espresso bar, asking about grind size every four minutes. Each shoulder bump tightened the coil in your stomach.

At the register Chris praised your upsell tally. “You’re a machine tonight.”

Jisung’s head snapped up, milk pitcher sputtering. “I made a swan in foam and nobody clapped.”

“Swans don’t fix inventory,” you muttered.

He flashed teeth. “Swans keep customers coming back, clipboard.”

The nickname made Ella giggle. You answered by refilling tokens with military precision and zero eye contact.

Near closing, Ella “accidentally” knocked a hazelnut bottle. Syrup river. Jisung swooped in with towels, Ella clinging to his sleeve.

“You are impossible,” you hissed, grabbing a mop.

Ella pouted. “He’s just helpful.”

Jisung flashed that grin. “Someone appreciates me.”

Chris re‑entered, raising a brow at the sticky chaos. “Y/N, handle register. Jisung, clean‑up crew. Ella, inventory syrup—carefully.”

He handed you his own oversized brown hoodie as makeshift spill‑guard. “Wear this, keep your shirt syrup‑free.”

You tugged it on; fabric hung past your thighs. Jisung’s eyes narrowed, jaw ticking at how easily Chris dressed you.

Enemy point scored.

Storm intensified. Chris emerged again, phone pressed to ear. “Driver bailed. Five hot chocolates to Cedar Hall, asap.”

Ella opened her mouth, but you beat her. “I’ll go.” You were still wearing Chris’s hoodie—perfect ammunition.

Jisung scowled. “I’m faster.”

“Clipboard has legs,” you said, snagging the carrier tray. Rain swallowed the door behind you.

Thirty minutes later you dripped through the doorway, hair plastered. Ella leaned over Jisung’s shoulder watching a meme on his phone. Her laugh too close, his smile too wide. Jealousy hit like espresso straight.

You peeled off Chris’s hoodie and draped it over a chair to dry, pointedly ignoring them.

Jisung’s glance tracked every movement.

Chris reappeared carrying a box of new card sleeves. “Y/N, these need alphabetizing tonight. I trust you more than these two clowns.” He ruffled your damp hair on the way upstairs.

Jisung’s latte spoon clanged against the counter. Ella raised both brows at the tension humming.

He waited until Chris vanished. “Golden employee, huh? Even got a personal hair tousle.”

You stacked sleeves calmly. “Earned respect is sweeter than pity flirts.”

Ella blinked at the brewing storm, mumbled an excuse, and retreated to the dish pit.

Chairs flipped. Lights dimmed for close. Only rain and rivalry remained.

Jisung cornered you by the dice shelf. “That hoodie looked huge on you.”

“It served its purpose.”

“What purpose? Making me crazy?”

“You seemed busy.” Jealous bite snuck into your tone.

His eyes flashed. “You first. Watching Chris fuss over you—” He cut himself off, breath sharp. “Are we keeping score or actually playing?”

“You started the game.”

He stepped closer, voice dropping, “Then I’m ending it.”

“I already told you about flirting.”

“Not flirting.” He slipped his own black hoodie off, draped it over your shoulders, fingers lingering at the collar. “Declaring.”

Vanilla and roasted beans surrounded you. Heart hammered.

“I push because you push back,” he murmured. “But I am done pretending competition is all this is. Y/N, I want you.”

The dice shelf dug into your spine but the confession softened every edge. You fisted hoodie fabric, tugging him until foreheads touched.

No kiss—tension sweetness enough.

Upstairs a door creaked. Chris’s voice floated down, amused. “Lock up when the leaderboard settles, lovebirds.”

Jisung laughed against your hair. “Game over?”

“Game changed,” you corrected.

“Winner plans our first date,” he whispered.

Challenge accepted in your grin. Fingers laced, you stepped into the rain’s hush, TableTopia neon painting gold on the wet street. The scoreboard would never be the same.

a week later.

A fresh trivia board went up and customers buzzed louder than the espresso machine. Ella twirled to the register, eyes bright when Jisung emerged from the back room in his usual black hoodie.

“You still owe me that Carcassonne lesson,” she said, leaning across the counter.

Without missing a beat Jisung reached behind her, lifted the spare apron with your name stitched on the pocket, and slipped it over your head. His knuckles brushed your collar while every guest at the bar watched.

““Lesson’s booked,” he told Ella, tightening the apron ties at your back, “but she and I already have plans.”

Your cheeks heated; Ella’s smile faltered. She straightened, nodding once before turning to the milk fridge.

Chris called from the pastry case, “Teamwork looks good on you two.”

Jisung winked at you, then tapped the edge of the tip jar with a quiet grin before heading back to the machine.

Ella returned with trays, humming along to the café playlist, yet she kept a respectful distance the rest of the night. When closing time finally arrived Jisung hung his hoodie over your shoulders without being asked.

“One more step forward for us,” he whispered.

You nudged him with your elbow. “Plenty more nights like this ahead.”

He grinned. “Good. That should keep things interesting.”

Outside, rain threatened but never fell, leaving the pavement clear beneath TableTopia’s gold neon glow. You and Jisung stepped into the soft night, hands intertwined, rivals turned partners under the sign that first lit your feud.

[vodika-vibes]

Hey congrats on 650+ followers could I please request a romance regencycinderella type au, where Rex is a prince and has to marry a person of "high standing" but he ends up meeting and falling in love with the reader, who is the servant of the spoiled bratty princess he's supposed to be marrying.

Sorry if this is too much detail.

You Will Be Okay

Summary: You have been the handmaid of Princess Harmony for the majority of your life, your responsibilities include ensuring her clothes are neat, styling her hair, and helping her bathe. It’s only natural that you would join her when she travels to Prince Rex’s palace when it’s time to meet him. The last thing you expect is to catch the eye of the Prince himself.

Pairing: Captain Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 2452

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, but it's not shown

Prompt: Regency AU

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Once again, this took me a while to get down. And it feels slightly less Cinderella to me, but I hope you like it anyway! Thanks for your request!

It has been three weeks since Princess Harmony, the Princess you serve, arrived at Jaig Palace, home to her betrothed, Prince Rex. Which means, it has been three weeks since you arrived at Jaig Palace.

In the three weeks since you’ve been here, Princess Harmony has thrown several massive temper tantrums, has destroyed five dresses (two of which had been passed down from the Queen Mother), and has verbally abused the staff of Jaig Palace so severely that they refuse to serve her.

At this point, you would sell your right arm, left leg, and your little brother’s body for a break.

But, Princess Harmony seems to be in a good mood today.

A better mood than she’s been in since you left the Cin Palace that is her home. 

You put the final touches on her intricate up-do, pinning some peace lilies into her golden locks, before you step away and bow, “All done, your highness.”

Princess Harmony tilts her head from one side to the other, and then she nods once. “This is adequate. I like the way you have the peace lilies framing my face. Wherever did you manage to find Peace Lilies here?”

“Her Majesty sent some with your luggage, your highness.” you reply.

“Of course she did.” There’s something bitter in Princess Harmony’s voice.

“Is all well, your highness?”

“I’m fine.” She bites out as she waves her hand, “Tell me, Handmaid-” You cringe, in the nearly twenty years you’ve been serving her, she still hasn’t learned your name, “what is on my schedule for the day?”

You blink at the princess, and then turn to pick up the itinerary that had been delivered the night before, “It appears that you have a free day today, your highness. At least, until this evening, when you are scheduled to give a speech.”

“Oh, yes. That.” She stands suddenly and glides away from the vanity, “You are dismissed. I have no need for you today.”

“As you command, your highness.”

“Send in my double when you leave.”

You curtsey deeply, and sweep out of the room before she can change her mind.

Princess Harmony was given a rather large set of apartments when she arrived here three weeks ago. There’s her own room and private bathroom, and then there are two more rooms. A large room for the Princess’ body double, and then a much smaller room that you call your own.

Fiore, Princess Harmony’s double, is sitting in the sitting room with a book in her hand. She is nearly identical to the princess, though her eyes are several shades darker than the Princess’.

“Princess Harmony is asking to see you, Fiore.” You murmur as you walk over to the older woman, and adjust one of the peace lilies in her hair to make sure it’s identical to the Princess’ hair.

“Asking, or demanding?” Fiore asks.

Fiore is, technically, Princess Harmony’s older sister. The King had an affair, resulting in the birth of Fiore, and you know that the older woman resents her spoiled half-sister. She was not a willing body double, it’s something that Fiore has confided in you when she was assigned her position.

“Is it not the same thing?” You ask with a gentle curl of your lips.

Fiore scoffs and smoothly gets to her feet, “Then I had best see what her royal brattiness wants. You should take the day, though.” She adds with a fond smile in your direction, “You’ve been going non-stop since we arrived.”

Personally, you’re of the opinion that Fiore would be a better Queen than Harmony, but it’s not as if anyone cares about your opinion. You offer her a small smile, before you sweep out of the suite of rooms.

Your first free-day in weeks.

You allow your feet to lead you through the, now familiar, halls. Pausing every now and then to speak with some of the guards and other servants. They like you well enough, though you’d have to be blind to not see the pitying looks that they shoot you.

Your feet lead you to the gardens. As you understand it, the Gardens had been the late Queen’s project, and you can tell by looking at the beautiful flower beds, and massive trees, that it had been a labor of love. 

A small smile graces your lips as you walk through the gardens, pausing every now and then to admire some of the plants that you’ve never seen before.

Cin Palace is located far, far to the north. The only plants that grow naturally are coniferous trees, and small shrubs. And the greenhouses back home are dedicated to fruits and vegetables, not flowers.

You allow yourself to wander through the flowers, and vanish into the thicket of trees. The leaves are a wide array of colors, from deep purple, to rich green, to vibrant red. It’s like walking through a kaleidoscope.

You can’t help but think, if this is what it’s like living here, then moving wouldn’t be so bad. Even if it does mean that you’re stuck serving Princess Harmony for the rest of your life.

And then, suddenly, you realize that you’re not alone.

“Oh,” You stop mid-step and flush before curtseying deeply as you avert your eyes from the blonde prince standing in front of you, “Your Highness, my apologies.”

He looks just as surprised to see you as you are to see him, “Ah, there’s no need for that. Just Rex is fine.” He says awkwardly, stepping closer to you and lightly touching your elbow to bring you back to your feet. “You are…Princess Harmony’s handmaiden, aren’t you?”

You straighten and fold your hands, “I am, yes.”

A smile, small and warm, crosses his face and you feel warmth in your chest. He really is very handsome, you weren’t expecting him to be kind too, “I thought I recognized you from your arrival. Though, I haven’t seen you since-?”

“Princess Harmony prefers that I stay out of sight,” You reply honestly, “Plus…” You hesitate and then shake your head, “It’s not important.”

“Please. I’d like to hear what you have to say.”

You duck your head, “Princess Harmony has a…difficult…personality at times.” You finally say, very diplomatically, “The servants that were assigned to her suites have refused to serve her due to how she treated them. So I have been very busy since arriving.”

“I have heard rumors from my staff,” Rex admits, “I thought they were just rumors. Still, I am glad that you managed to come and see the gardens. What do you think?”

“They’re beautiful,” You reply with a bright smile, “I have never seen so many different flowers and plants.”

He answers your smile with one of his own, “Would you like a tour?”

“Truly? You’re not too busy?”

“Today is my free day,” Rex replies, “And I’m happy to show off my mother’s garden.” He moves to the side and motions for you to come stand next to him, “This way, the garden is much larger than people generally see.”

His hand settles, warm and comforting, on your lower back as you fall into step next to him. Rex leads you deeper into the garden, telling you stories of his mother, and of the various plants that she chose to fill her garden.

It’s the start of a, slightly surprising, friendship.

It has been three weeks since the day that  you first met Prince Rex, and has been six weeks since your arrival at Jaig Palace. And, in your opinion, things are going well.

Well. Wellish.

Princess Harmony’s mood plummeted, and no amount of her favorite snacks, books, or songs could bring her back into a more tolerable mood.

She’s since turned her foul temper on you, and on Fiore. 

The first time she struck you indicated a change in your relationship with your princess. And a change in the relationship between Fiore and Harmony.

Fiore refused to allow you to be alone with Harmony, regardless of how Harmony ranted and raved and threatened her. In truth, you’re grateful for the older woman, as her presence made it so that Harmony couldn’t strike you again, no matter how much she might want to.

It also means that you have a lot more free time than you did when you first arrived.

Of course, free time is relative, as you spend the majority of the time trying to prepare for the wedding between Princess Harmony and Prince Rex.

Though, at this point, you’re pretty sure that you’ve spent more time with the groom-to-be than Princess Harmony. In fact, you can’t remember them having a single conversation at all.

And you’re concerned.

Rex is a friend, at least, you think he is. And you’re not overly eager to leave him to Harmony’s wild outbursts. 

“May I ask a personal question?” You ask, late one evening as you watch the fireflies dance around you and Rex. Harmony’s nightly temper tantrum evolved into her throwing a vase at you and Fiore, and so you were encouraged to leave the suite for a couple of hours.

Which led you here, sitting on a blanket, deep in the garden, with Rex sitting across from you.

He’s dressed down, in a loose tunic with the laces untied at his neck, baring more of his chest to you than he’s ever done before, and his trousers are loose and stained with grass. 

He looks amazing. And you have to force yourself not to stare at him, it’s not your place. It’s a shame that your friendship with him has turned into you having a crush on him. 

Rex laughs, “You don’t have to ask permission, cyar’ika.” His grin is teasing, and you make a face at him. He still won’t tell you what that nickname means, though you suppose it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

“...do you want to get married?” You ask slowly, carefully.

He pauses from where he was peeling an orange, and he slowly sets it down on the blanket, “In truth? No. Not to Harmony at least. She’s…incredibly unlikeable.”

“Ah.” You absently smooth your skirt, “I suppose it doesn’t really matter what you want, though. Does it?”

Rex gazes at you for a long moment, “I have to get married. The law is very clear on this.” He pauses, “Of course, the law doesn’t specify who, exactly, I have to marry.”

“I don’t follow.”

“It doesn’t say that I have to marry a princess.” He clarifies, “Just that I have to be wed before I turn 25.”

“I see.” You murmur.

Rex doesn’t say anything for a long moment and then he sighs. You turn your gaze towards his face, and start when he shifts so that he’s sitting close enough that your knees are touching. He reaches out, and for a moment, you think he’s going to press his hands against your face, but he seems to hesitate before reaching down and taking your hands in his. 

“Rex?”

He smiles at you, “I didn’t want to ask, but it’s hard to not notice that you flinch away from Harmony. And it’s even harder to ignore how Fiore seems to hover over your shoulder like you’re her charge. Does Harmony hit you, cyar’ika?”

You nervously lick your lips, “It…only happened one time. And it was my fault, really. I should have known better than-”

“No.” Rex squeezes your hand and his voice is stern enough that your words die on your tongue, “There is no excuse for her hitting you. At all.”

You stare at him, stunned. “Well, yes. Of course.” You offer sheepishly, “But…I’m still her handmaiden and…and…” You trail off, and then squeeze your eyes shut, “You shouldn’t marry her.”

“And what happens then?” Rex asks, his voice gentle.

“We go home, back to Cin Palace.” You say, “And…and nothing changes.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and then releases one of your hands. You start when his warm hand presses against your cheek, “If nothing changes for you, then that means you’ll be stuck with an abusive employer.”

“Fiore won’t let her hurt me.” You reply as you open your eyes again. Rex seems closer somehow.

“What if I had a different idea?” He offers, “A better offer. For you and Fiore.”

“I don’t-?”

“Marry me.”

Whatever you expected him to say, it wasn’t that. You blink at him, your jaw dropped, as your train of thought not only screeches to a halt, but also completely derails. “What.”

Not the most eloquent of ways to ask for clarification, but he doesn’t seem offended. In fact, he seems amused.

“Marry me. Become my Queen.”

“But…but I’m a servant-!”

“I don’t care.”

“You should definitely marry a princess-”

“I want to marry someone I love, and I love you.”

You gape at him, dumbly for a moment, “But. You. That’s…”

“Take your time,” Rex teases. He seems confident and relaxed, as though he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on you. 

“You love me?” You ask, your voice tiny.

“Is that so surprising?”

“You hardly know me-”

“I know you’re allergic to grapes, I know you really like the color blue, but your favorite color is hunter green. I know you like dancing, though you’re too embarrassed to actually dance in front of people. I know you’ve always wanted a garden of your own, but have never been permitted one.” He leans in closer, and presses his forehead against yours, “I know you’re afraid of the dark, but you still enjoy watching the stars.”

“I never told you any of that.” You whisper.

“You didn’t have to,” He releases your hand and brings his hand up so that he’s properly cupping your face, “I know you, cyar’ika. I want to marry you. Become my Queen. And I’ll make sure you’ll never be unhappy again.”

“...but-”

“Fiore will be offered a position as your bodyguard if you agree.” Rex promises, “You’ll both be free from Harmony.” He strokes your cheek lightly, “And, even if you don’t want to marry me, you’ll both be offered positions on my staff. You will be free of her one way or another.”

You exhale slowly, “Okay.” You whisper.

He blinks at you, “Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll marry you.”

And then you squeak when his lips press against yours in a deep and passionate kiss. It takes you a moment, but you end up wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him back just as enthusiastically. 

You feel him grin into the kiss, and you can’t help but melt into him.

This might not be what you expected for your life, but you’re not going to complain. After all, this is much, much better.

[luveline]

Not sure if I’m doing this right because I’ve never really taken part in one of these but please can I request something for zombie Steve and reader with the below prompt:

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐨𝐤 —send me a hurt/comfort request for any reader and any character and I'll write a ficlet, 2k or less

Maybe like, some time shortly after they started to become romantically involved or after he first calls her his gf, and Steve has a bad day and is a little short with reader and she’s worrying he’s regretting crossing that line with her but then he reassures her he’s not regretting it.

Sorry if I’m doing this wrong and no worries if you don’t like it, I just seriously love zombie Steve, especially when he’s a lil grumpy grump but always wants to make up for it afterwards 🥰

luveline's 40k party ☆ thank you for your request, you did it perfect don't worry! steve zombie!au —steve gets stressed when food is in short supply, but he cares about you more than you think. fem!reader, 2.5k

cw starving / food insecurity

"I don't think we can make it another day if we don't find something tonight." 

Steve's shoulders go rigid at your statement, backpack reflecting glaring light.. It's dark as night, the room illuminated by two twin flashlight beams. New batteries have the lights constant and consistent. It's a shame you can't live off of batteries. 

You're hungry in a way you've never been hungry before. Never. You and Steve have been starving for days. You have a pounding headache leaking down into your teeth that's made you quiet and Steve is quieter, pointing his flashlight into the next kitchen cabinet. The only thing inside is dust, motes swimming in a sea of white. 

What's worse, you're terrified to hop houses at night, because from afar, deep in the forest surrounding the residential neighbourhood you're in, you've been hearing wolves. Deep howls chasing a filling moon. 

You're so hungry you've had to risk it. 

Your head is heavy on your neck as you look up into another cabinet. "We're gonna die," you say. You can't help it —maybe it's the genuine and inescapable despair of thinking you'll die, maybe it's his recent bout of loving affection, but lately all you do is complain. 

"We're not gonna die," Steve says. 

"You don't know that." 

"Yes, I do." 

"How could you? All these houses have been stripped clean, there's nothing left–" 

"I just know, alright?" 

He slams the cabinet door shut and stalks to the other side of the kitchen. These houses are huge, rich people places with endless bedrooms and their matching ensuites. He shoves his weight into the door leading to the garage. You don't have a choice, following him in. Steve wants space but he can't have it, splitting up makes you feel sick. 

Your hands under his t-shirt, his hands on your back. An admission. I've been calling you my girlfriend in my head for weeks. 

Your Steve's girlfriend. He's your boyfriend, and he's gonna get eaten by a zombie in a garage in the middle of nowhere suburbia and you'll be all alone without him. 

"Steve," you say, irritated. The garage is even darker than the kitchen, no windows for moonlight to crawl inside. He's turned his torch to the storage bins behind a black, sleek car. 

"What?" he asks, using the brunt of his palm to lift a lid.

"What do you mean, what? If I walked away from you like that you'd bite my head off."

"Jesus," he hisses, quickly turning his light away from the bin he's opened. "What the fuck?" 

You creep up behind him to direct your own flashlight. You don't want to talk about what you find inside. 

Defeated and distant and wishing things could be different, you and Steve clip your rucksacks at the waist and prepare to move in the dark from this shitty empty house to the next. You can't sleep; Steve won't say it, but you think he might be scared that you'll both be too weak to get up again if you lay down. This is the final push. 

You don't ask for his hand. He grabs one of your rucksack straps and you slink down the concrete steps of the house back onto the picture perfect streets. An entire apocalypse and the only evidence is smashed glass. The cold night bounces off of the sidewalk to chill your calves, your old jeans little defence against the cold. It's so, so cold lately. 

The next house is locked. You and Steve look at one another, and whether you can see him in the moonlight dregs or if your mind knows him well enough to fill in the gaps is anyone's guess. He looks reluctantly hopeful. 

You take a silent walk around the house checking for points of entry. When each door you come across is locked and each window tightly locked, you kneel at the garage door and force your icy fingers beneath the door. Steve helps, flat of his knife scratching the asphalt. You lose all the feeling in your fingertips as Steve struggles to get his hands under as well, but together you sigh, pained, and lift the garage door with the last of your strength. You army under first quickly, almost dropping the shutters as Steve follows. 

Fingertips aching with quick-blooming contusions, you attempt to help Steve stand. He ignores your offered hand. 

This house is the same as the other, so while it's dark, it's manoeuvrable. Same daunting marble staircases up on to a balconied landing. Across to the left is a lone bedroom with huge windows and a staircase to the attic, and across to the right a handful of equally spacious rooms. You hadn't bothered searching the bedrooms in the houses before, figuring that whoever combed the kitchens to the insane degree they have was as desperate as you are now, and would've already done so. 

But this house was locked. 

You're filled with aching hope. You need to eat. You don't want to die. You don't want Steve to die. If there's nothing here, you aren't sure you'll have the energy to search another granite kitchen. 

Steve wastes no time opening a cabinet. 

You both stand still in shock. 

Cereal. Boxes and boxes of cereal. 

"What do you think the sell by date is?" you ask. 

"I don't know." He pulls down a box. It's off by a year. Pulls down another. Off again. Something awful inside of you wants to tear into the cardboard and eat it anyways. Too bad food poisoning can kill you quicker than hunger. 

Steve leaves the cabinet door open and moves to the next, practically ripping it off of the hinges. Your torch beam shakes with excitement when you see the insides, golden cans stacked high. 

Steve picks one up. Tosses it aside. "It's cat food." 

Well, if all else fails. The thought makes you want to cry. 

The next cabinet is full of glassware, and the next china plates. Steve opens a fifth and sixth at the same time. It takes you a second to calibrate the sight in front of you. 

"It's not more cat food, is it?" you ask quietly. 

Steve breathes out hard, grabbing a handful of skinny cans, metal popping against the counter as he drops one. "It's fish. Tuna fish." 

And just like that, you get to live. 

The last cabinet has a short supply of soups and bare essentials, enough for a week between you both (rich people ate less processed foods, apparently). It's the fish that promises security, a hundred cans of bluefin, yellowfin tuna, a couple cans of caviar. 

You and Steve eat it in the kitchen with fancy spoons. The smell is undesirable but it doesn't make you feel sick until hours later, half asleep on the kitchen floor. 

You stand up, ushering him with you, and pull yourselves with heavy emphasis on the handrail up the stairs to the first bedroom you come across. You take your toothbrush from your bag despite the begging pull of sleep and brush your teeth, eager to escape the salty tang of fish. If Steve wants to kiss you tonight, you'd rather taste like Arctic Fresh than fish. 

"Can I have some?" Steve asks. 

You raise your brows, squeezing toothpaste onto his brush. While he brushes, you construct a little lamp using the low-power torch and a half full water bottle. The room is far less intimidating after that, light reaching into the corners and exposing the raw wooden beams above. Steve spits his toothpaste into the wastebasket and leaves the room. He returns as you're taking off your shoes, disapproving as he drags a chair in. He hooks it under the door handle, jigging it to test. 

"I can't wear them anymore," you say. 

"Okay," he says. 

You'd hoped finding food would make him less snappy, but no luck. He's even quieter than before. 

You get changed in silence, like you've both decided now you're not hungry that actually you'd been kind of filthy. It's just… your reality. You want to be clean, and fed, and brushed, but you're grimy. You settle for another layer of deodorant and a fresh pair of underwear. 

Steve is looking at you, half-naked. He's allowed, it doesn't matter, but he averts his eyes when you catch him and doesn't speak to you again. Thankfully, your sated hunger removes despair to some extent. You climb into bed and Steve slides in next to you, and for a few hours, you sleep. 

Waking up is a new agony. 

You're bad at being separated from one another, and finding him gone fucks you up. Your heart immediately leaps into your mouth, a raw, beating thing. The daylight disarms you at first, blinking against it, but proves to be your friend when you find Steve's shoes at the end of the bed. It's a marker, a note from him to you: I'm still here.

He's leaning heavily on the countertop in the kitchen  with a notebook laid flat and a pen in hand, tallying up the cans.

"Hey, you scared me," you say, his shoes in one hand, yours in the other.  

"Sorry." 

You put the shoes on the counter. 

You hesitate to touch him first. You'd been thinking last night before you slept, his hand near your hip instead of on it, that Steve's finally realised he doesn't want to be with you. Like a near death experience, he'd had an epiphany. Why would he want to spend the bare strands of a life that he has playing house with you? 

He didn't have a choice. One sudden day and you were his burden.

Steve takes your hand without looking. Firm, he squeezes his fingers between yours and pulls you into his side. "It's a month's worth of food, easily. But it might make us kind of sick if we aren't careful. There's Mercury in it. Less than the cheap stuff, but we still shouldn't be eating so much." His arm presses to yours. He meets your eyes over his shoulder. "I hate fish." 

"You're talking to me today." 

He looks down at the notebook, his eyebrows pinching in like you've stepped on his foot. "I– sorry. I wasn't very nice, yesterday, I guess." 

You're relieved to hear his apology, not because you really even want one, but because it means he isn't as mad at you as you thought. "I was complaining." 

"It was all shit. You're allowed. I… was stressed." 

"It was all shit," you agree, explaining away his bad mood. But, last night, he didn't wanna hold you. It sounds pathetic but on a small scale, this is your life. Any change feels foreign. 

"I wasn't mad at you for complaining." 

You feel the back of his hand with your thumb. Fine hairs, skin rough from a few weeks of the elements. "Thanks for clarifying." 

"I'm serious."

"So am I." 

Steve looses go of your hand to put his arm on your shoulder. His fingertips skirt against your back, tickling gently. His eyes are serious but his mouth curves with a smile. "Why are you upset?" he asks. 

"I'm not." 

"I think I'd know." 

It seems silly now to tell him with his touch, his face this close to yours. You take in a shuddering breath and his expression pinches. 

Steve stands as close to you as he can without hugging you. "Hey, tell me," he says. 

You push your tongue against your teeth, thinking. Tears threaten to collect, a burning lump bobbing in your throat at his question. 

"Do you ever regret this?" you ask. "Sometimes I think you do." 

"This?" he asks.

"Me and you." 

Steve laughs, and that really is foreign what with the last few days of moroseness you've had. It's not a humoured laugh, just a shocked one, the sound inking his words as he says, "We're not something up for regretting." 

"What's that mean?" 

"It means," —Steve ducks his head a little, eye to eye with you as his arm curls behind your neck— "it's not even an option. Us, me and you, you alone, it's not an option. I don't regret what's happened or what's happening between us. I wish… I wish I'd been less of a dick to you. I wish I was nicer to you now, and that's a shitty thing to say, but this–" Hid eyes flare with annoyance directed inward. "I get fucking abysmally moody because I can't believe I'm this bad at taking care of you."

You lift your chin ever so slightly and Steve kisses you. Sweet but a little rough, like he'd been waiting for an offer. 

"I don't regret this," he mumbles, tapping the tip of his nose under yours. You lift your head, and he fits another kiss to the seam of your lips. 

"You didn't wanna hug me or anything last night–" 

He hugs you immediately. "I'm sorry," he says over your ear. "It was just a bad day." 

"But I'm here with you. I'm having the bad day with you, I want to be there for you," you say, semi-desperate. 

"I'm sorry," he says again, relaxing as your arms fold behind his back. 

Steve pets your back. You wish things were different, that he could be hugging you somewhere different. You can picture it, Steve dropping you off at some college class or putting his hand in your back pocket on the way to dinner. Things could be so much better and they never, ever will be. 

You don't ask, afraid to even suggest it if he hasn't thought of it, but you worry Steve is with you out of habit. Bad habits are hard to break, but anyone can stop smoking if they really want to. He could move on.

He must read your mind. 

"Sorry," Steve whispers, leaning back to kiss your cheek. "I'm a shitty boyfriend sometimes when I'm trying to be good at keeping us alive. You're the only good thing. I'm really sorry, honey." 

You nibble on the inside of your lip and hug him harder. "Stop saying sorry. You didn't do anything wrong, I just think too much." 

He breathes out in surprise at your ferocity, dropping his head into the curve of your neck. 

"I'm sorry," he says anyway.

Unbeknownst to you, it's in lieu of a different confession. 

You crack a smile. Steve pulls away to fret over your face uselessly, wiping away things you can't see and smiling back like a guy in the movies, all confident and flirtatious. It's a stark difference to the previous gloom. 

"Let's go find some water," he says, taking the side of your face into his palm. "I smell bad and you're shiny." 

"Nice, Steve."

[hugemilkshake]

.....like can I send in a cookie run kingdom prompt thing? If so here is one...and I'd like this to be a one-shot plz! Also your writing with your other stories are good so don't stress too much about this! I'm sure you'll be fine! And if ya want feel free to ignore it.

So I got this idea while reading some self aware au fics...where reader is taken from the human world and brought into the cookie world.

The reader, a selfless workaholic, was working like always but then gets taken into the world of cookies! They were surprised they ended up in the cookie run world and decide to try their best in this amazing new world they loved, ready to work hard for the cookies to keep em happy and so on....buuuut that's when they discover how much the cookies love em. They start doing everything for y/n so that way y/n could finally rest and relax. You can go crazy with whatever scenarios you want of y/n trying to do stuff for the cookies buuut cookies stop y/n so y/n stops working or of cookies spoiling the hell out of y/n. Like cookies do their best to make sure y/n is happy, safe and relaxed. Also throw in whatever cookies encounters and stuff you want!

Hope you have fun with it and feel free if you don't feel up to it!

I hope you enjoy the milkshake! Now I might not be the best at writing self aware stuff since this is my first time writing it

Just relax

-self aware AU-

-platonic-

Part 2, part 3

Another long day of work… you rested your head before feeling a vibration from your phone. It was a coworker… asking if you could take their shift…. Again…

Ugh… did they not see that you were tired? But you couldn’t say no… you just couldn’t…

You had some time before having to return to work so you scrolled through the App Store until you came across a cute game franchise called Cookie Run. You decided to buy three of the games, the one that caught your attention was Cookie Run: Kingdom.

It was so charming, the way you could interact with the cookies and decorate your own kingdom was so nice, and in over a month you had gotten all the cookies and decors, which sounds a little crazy but this game was kinda like your escape from your job.

But with this you had gotten very very fatigued. You couldn’t remember when the last time you had a proper meal… or a full night of sleep… or when you saw your family last… or when you didn’t have to work… or when your friends talked to you last…

You were practically on the verge of breaking down, the only thing’s keeping you from going insane was the silly cookie games on your phone.

Now… you might’ve been going crazy but you swear that the cookies were talking to… like directly. It could be sleep deprivation making you hear things but it was still very odd.

But you might’ve hit a breaking point. You finally passed out. You had just gotten a notice that you were getting evicted from your apartment and you didn’t really have anything so all you did was clean up any trash that was left around, and by the time you were done it was midnight and your boss had the AUDACITY to ask you to do even more work… at that point you passed out. Either from exhaustion or stress it was probably both tbh

…

But when you woke up you weren’t in your apartment.. you were in a comfortable bed.. that had… candy like details…? You tried to get up and out of the bed but someone quickly jumped up and had you lay back down.

“Please son’t sit up too fast! You’re exhausted. You shouldn’t be moving too much, here let me get you some food, just wait here…” A gentle voice told you…. It was also familiar…

The person returned and set a tray right next to the bed, you saw that they looked familiar…

“I hope your not in any pain… I’m Strawberry Cookie by the way…” Strawberry Cookie spoke “Please just try to relax…”

You tried to speak but your throat hurt a lot… like to an unnatural degree.. but you were quite hungry so you decided to take a bite out of one the the star jellies i front of you. Now when you took a bite… something clicked in your head.

You thought you were dreaming but this felt way to real… the bed.. the food.. everything was too real.

And the realized you felt sore.. not just your throat hurt, everything hurt. You went to rub your temples but your skin felt less oily and more… doughy..?

You wanted answers and Strawberry Cookie was aware of this, so she started to speak once more.

“…I know your probably really confused about what’s happening and I am too… but it’s important for you to not get up and move around… your dough is still getting used to the temperature..”

Dough… what…? What was happening…?

“Just… please don’t stress to much… try to relax… please..?”

…

So you were a cookie now..

Interesting

Well it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be

I mean- you can’t walk and talking is a little difficult but you’re treated like royalty

Like you try to get up and do something and Strawberry Cookie has to guilt trip ask you to lay back down

But Strawberry Cookie wasn’t the only one who visited you

Gingerbrave, Wizard Cookie and Custard Cookie the lll visited you the most

Strawberry Cookie try’s to make sure your feeling alright and gets you food

Gingerbrave tells you what’s currently happening in EarthBread and, you kinda knew what was happening but hearing it more in detail was a little frightening

Wizard Cookie tries to understand how someone your age could have dough as soft as your- and by soft I mean dough like.

And Custard Cookie the lll just talks about how he’s going to be a great prince king and how fun some of the adventures he’s been on!

But out of all of them, the one thing they had in common was making sure you didn’t get up to do anything

You physically cannot do anything without someone making a fuss over it

It was actually kinda nice…

[iamgonnagetyouback]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ۶ৎ―― ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ʚଓ₊˚ʚ ;༊ ₊˚ ivy's 2k celebration

thank you for being with me and for loving these little fics that i write, my loves ♡ i am so so grateful for all your support & kindness. truly just speechless… i love you endlessly, always ‹𝟹

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤnav. REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.

EXAMPLE.ᐟ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𓂃༯ 💌 dear fic ￫ ask my fics little questions like they’re secrets written in a storybook… ask them why they hurt you, scold them, beg them for answers as to why they ended the way they did, and i’ll let them write back

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𓍯𓂃example ⭑.ᐟ dear [fic title], why did you break my heart like that… was it necessary? did you have to be so cruel? i haven’t recovered

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ— love, a very wounded reader ♡

[all requests for this have to be in format and in small text if possible!!]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𓂃༯ 🏹 fairy's arrow ￫ tell me about yourself, and i’ll find the one written in the pixieland for you

EXAMPLE.ᐟ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𓍯𓂃things to mention ⭑.ᐟ preferred fandom, likes, dislikes, preferred gender, pet peeves, quirks, music taste, favoured films etc [all requests for this have to be in small text as they're usually longer and thus make it a bit messy!!]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𓂃༯ 🦋 moth-kissed notes ￫ give me a character + a scenario or au, and i’ll spin some headcanons just for you

EXAMPLE.ᐟㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𓍯𓂃example ⭑.ᐟ moth-kissed notes for [character] as a bartender au/on a first date?

[all requests for this have to be in format and in small text if possible!!]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𓂃༯ 🧸 teddy dust ￫ send me a character + a prompt from any list, and i’ll write you a shortdrabble ・・・ fluffy ʚɞ angsty 1 2 ʚɞ domestic ʚɞ hurt/comfort 1 2

EXAMPLE.ᐟㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𓍯𓂃example ⭑.ᐟ character: [character name] prompt: “............” (from [prompt list])

[all requests for this have to be in format and in small text if possible!!]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𓂃🖌 rules to keep in mind before requesting

ʚଓ only sfw requests ♡ i will not write anything uncomfortable or nsfw. keep it gentle, keep it kind

ʚଓ one request per ask ♡ send each request separately so nothing gets lost in the pages

ʚଓ small text, please ♡ try to keep your request in small text since they are more neat

ʚଓ follow the format ♡ structure keeps the magic flowing. if it’s not right, i won’t be able to grant your wish

ʚଓ ask with care ♡ i am not a wishing well. no “could you do this?” or “do this.” speak to me like i’m real, because i am

ʚଓ add the emoji ♡ each section has its own little emoji—please include it in your ask so i know what you’re requesting

ʚଓ enjoy the magic ♡ this is a soft space. let’s keep it lovely.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[rivendellwatch]

🌸✨ HAPPY FIRST DAY OF COZY CUDDLE WEEK!!! ✨🌸

We made it!!! It’s May 12th, the snuggliest week of the year has officially begun, and I could not be happier to be rolling out the fluff carpet for all of you!!!!! 🧶💕

Whether you’re here to write, read, draw, or just bask in the warm blanket fort of softness—we’re so glad to have you!🧸☕ I know life has been a bit hectic lately (my own included, exams say hi 👋📚), but the cozy vibes start now, and I’m thrilled to launch the event with open arms and warm tea!!!

ARE YOU READY PEEPS? LET'S GOOOO!!!!!

Cozy Cuddle Week Rules!!!

Allowed Ratings: — G and T only (no M or E for this one!) — Nothing NSFW or explicit please, we’re keeping it soft, safe, and fluffy ✨ Tags & Warnings: Please tag any potential mild angst or emotional intensity clearly, especially if there’s a dip before the fluff kicks in.

Allowed content: — Canonverse, modern AU, fluff, found family, friendships, cuddly romance, cozy domestic vibes, anything you want!! — Angst is allowed but must end in comfort/happiness — Actor x reader/character is welcome as long as it's respectful (no parasocial dynamics please or anything encouraging stalking, bullying, doxxing etc💕)

Not Allowed: — No violence, death, SA, trauma focus, graphic content, or bullying in or around the event — This is a fluff-first event, for safe cozy creativity 🫶

To Be Accepted: — Tag this blog aka @rivendellwatch on your Tumblr post so I can find you! — If you prefer privacy, DM me directly on there! — I won’t accept AO3-only entries from people who aren’t connected on tumblr or who are currently blocked on there (you can read more about that on tumblr, in the cozy cuddle week starter post if you missed it)

🖇️ AO3 COLLECTION IS NOW LIVE!!

You can start posting right away!✨ Here's the AO3 collection:

🔗 Cozy Cuddles Week 2025 (TROP & LOTR)

(If you run into any issues, please don’t hesitate to send me a raven—or, well, a DM! 🕊️✨ I’ll do my best to review and accept your work as swiftly as possible. But do keep in mind I’m the only elf scribbling through the submissions scrolls—consider me your very own Lindir, poring over every tale to make sure it fits the gentle, fluffy spirit of the event! 🍵🧡 Thank you for your patience and your cozy creations!)

🎡 WHEELS GALORE!

Feeling indecisive? Want to add a little randomness to your fluff? I've got you covered! Here are the wheels I’ve prepared:

🧙‍♀️ Character Wheel – for those “who should I write about?” moments!! ! Here is the link for the character wheel!!

🧸 Soft Prompts Wheel – found family, soulmates, platonic softness, parental fluff? Spin away! Here is the link for mini prompts wheel!!!

🪄 Cute Word to Include Wheel – a sprinkle of sweetness to challenge your muse! Here is the link for the cute word wheel!!

Need inspiration? Here's a prompt list!!! You’re welcome to pick freely, mix, remix, or spin the wheels to generate something fun!!

These prompts are optional—just here to help spark ideas and joy!!!✨

1./ "You’re cold. Get over here." – One character dramatically refuses to admit they’re freezing, until they’re forcibly tucked under a blanket by someone exasperated but fond.

2./ Sleepy Pile™ – Too many people, one couch, and an accidental nap that turns into a dogpile of limbs and warmth.

3./ “I made us a blanket fort.” – Bonus points if it's barely holding itself up and someone absolutely bumps it down mid-cuddle.

4./ "Did you just use me as a pillow?" – Yes. Yes, they did. And now you’re not allowed to move.

5./ Tired warrior cuddles – After a long day, someone just drops their armor/weapons/cloak and flops into someone else's arms with a dramatic sigh.

6./ “You smell like home.” – Said into someone’s shoulder, half-asleep, maybe a little too honest.

7./ Rainy day cuddle sesh – Thunder in the distance, tea on the table, and one character who pretends not to like cuddles but is clearly loving it.

8./ “I’m the big spoon tonight.” – Cue struggling to wrap around a much taller partner or friend with pure stubborn determination.

9./ "You're snoring on me." – Soft complaint, but they don’t actually want the other person to move.

10./ Platonic cuddling champion – The one in the group who always ends up with someone asleep on them, whether they asked for it or not.

11./ Nightmare comfort cuddle – Someone wakes up panicked and is gently (or firmly) pulled back into a hug and told they’re safe now.

12./ “You brought a hot water bottle?” “No, I am the hot water bottle.” – Human furnace character doing their civic duty.

13./ Grumpy x Sunshine cuddle combo – One grumbles the whole time, the other is absolutely snuggled in like a sleepy cat. Guess which is which.

14./ "I can't fall asleep unless you're right here." – Bonus if the other person is flustered by this sudden revelation.

15./ Post-battle cuddle huddle – Everyone survived, emotions are high, someone starts crying into someone else's arms and then it's just a tangle of quiet relief and holding each other.

Here are 5 prompts to kick off your day, my little disaster gremlins! Whether you’re writing slow-burn angst ending in fluff, nap pile, or a dramatic scene where someone broods in a window like they’re in a tragic Elven opera—these prompts are yours to steal, twist, remix, mash 'em, boil 'em, throw 'em in a stew-(sorry, couldn’t resist).

Use them, break them, ship them. Put a crown on them and call them King of Angsty Snuggles. You know the drill!!!

1./ Character A brings Character B home to meet their family. Character B is a bit unsure but Character A's family are absolute SWEETHEARTS.

2. Character B says ‘I don’t like physical affection’ but falls asleep on Character A’s shoulder and proceeds to use them as a teddy bear for the next 3 hours. A takes a photo. B denies everything.

3. Character A gets scared during a thunderstorm and climbs into Character B’s bed without asking. B pretends to be annoyed, but they were already making space under the blanket anyway.

4. Character B bursts into tears over how cute Character A looks in a hoodie, and then tries to pretend it didn’t happen while their mascara runs. Character A just hugs them and says, ‘I knew you’d break first.’

5. Character A gets roped into babysitting B’s younger cousins. They try to be intimidating and aloof, but five minutes later they’re wearing a glitter tiara, holding a plush unicorn, and solemnly being referred to as ‘Lord Emo of the Sparkle Marshes.’ B walks in, sees this, and immediately dies laughing.

🎀✨ CUDDLE WEEK: BANNER TIME, BESTIES ✨🎀

Since a bunch of you absolute sweethearts said you loved the banners during Fluff Week (which genuinely made me kick my feet like a lil hobbit receiving second breakfast 🥹), I’m very happy to say—they’re back!! (I wanted to post them tomorrow but why not today???)🎉💖

Below you’ll find the banners for Cozy Cuddle Week, freshly made with love, glitter, and exactly 17.5 mugs of hot tea ☕ (the .5 was spilled during a minor wheel-making incident, don’t ask). Feel free to add them to your posts, AO3 links, promo blurbs, your secret love letters to your OTP—go wild, cuddlebugs!! 🧸💌

WHEW! We've officially kicked off Cozy Cuddles Week!!

If you need anything—whether it's help, a question, or if you just need to vent (I do know the urge to throw hands sometimes—Gimli, anyone? 😂)—please don’t hesitate to DM me or drop a comment! I’ll be here like Gandalf the Grey, ready to answer any call for aid!!⚔️✨

Let’s keep the cozy vibes flowing, and remember: we're all in this together like the Fellowship—so feel free to reach out anytime!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 16

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: I didn't sleep very well but I'm here.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you move North, the sunlight fades sooner and rises later, the nights cooling with each mile. Nearly a fortnight on the road, and you return to the service of the queen. Bryce escorts you between the carts, gesturing in passing to his comrades, other times letting past another body on their own mission. You reach the front of the train where men with swords pace and keep watch over the surrounding lands. 

“Evenin’,” Bryce greets the guards outside the queen’s tent and they grumble back. The weariness of travel has overcome many of the travelers. 

You dip your head down and approach the tent flap. Before the card can pull it back for your entrance, it sweeps open from the other side. You step back as another figure falters before you. The king keeps hold of the silk and his eyes skim over you. He tilts his head and moves to hold the fabric open, beckoning you through with his large hand. 

“Your highness,” you murmur. 

His jaw squares but he says nothing. As you enter, the fabric falls heavily behind you. The king’s expression lingers in your mind, his silence even more. The tick in his cheek was hard to miss and you can hear his heavy footfalls as he stalks off. 

Within, the queen sits on a bench, playing with the tassel of her belt. Her father, Lord Dustan, stands to the side, arms crossed as he makes small steps back and forth. He tuts and chews his thumb. 

“Your husband does not behave as son-in-law,” the duke gripes lowly, “he would have let Debray fall to those vandals. He cares only for his frost lands.” 

“Father, he is only eager to be home. As much as I dread the cold, I cannot help but feel as such. I tire of this endless road,” Queen Jazlene yawns into a cupped hand. 

“Ah, but you must be a loyal wife. What of mine? What of your mother? She was alone in the castle.” 

“And you rode out to save her, didn’t you?” Jazlene prompts. 

“I am a lord of the summer lands, I am past my warring days,” Dustan snarls, “he would risk my flesh on an uprising he could crush with his left hand. He tests me!” The duke circles around as he jabs his finger in the air, “I deserve more dignity, more respect. I delivered him his kingdom.” 

“Yes, father, he is a frigid man,” Jazlene bemoans, “as icy a husband. He does neglect us both.” 

“Neglect?” Dustan faces his daughter, “does he not see to his contract?” 

She frowns and bats her doey eyes as she looks away, “it isn’t that he doesn’t fulfill his duty, it is only... how might I get an heir if I lie with my husband only once in a moon?” 

“Does he mean to deceive us? A son will bind us. A son is what we need. Does he think the summer lands will follow a king who does not sow his seed?” 

“I do not know, father. I... I have tried all I can think of.” 

“Mm,” the duke hums darkly, “that won’t do at all. Not at all. When I married your mother, she was swollen with you almost as soon as the vows were said. No, no, it won’t do. I will have word with the king, make certain he does not treat my daughter, his queen, so coolly.” 

Dustan stop and twiddles his fingers. You try to imagine him confronting King Geralt. Surely it is bluster for the sake of his daughter. 

“...we are ruined without an heir...” he mutters. 

Jazlene sits forward on the bench, “ruined, father? I am queen--” 

“Yes, yes, you are queen, but a queen has her duty too,” Dustan insists, “and it cannot be done with a negligent king. Leave it to me, daughter. The next I see the king, I shall handle our business. As I have ever done. Do you believe in me? For I did deliver you a fine marriage, didn’t I?” 

“Yes, father.” 

The duke goes to his daughter and rubs her shoulder. He leans in and you shrink against the tent wall, making yourself small. 

“Should it prove poor judgment,” his whisper scratches from his lips, “I will figure a way out.” 

He kisses her hair and turns to march out. He takes not notice of you though that is expected. Jazlene sighs as the flap falls and she leans back on her hands, swaying her leg. 

“Ah, the maid,” she cheeps, “you will fetch hot water for my feet. They ache.” 

“Yes, your highness.” 

She grins, a catlike expression and sits up straight, “yes, that is right. I am a queen and soon, the king will be certain to treat me as such.” 

You flit off to your duty. As you emerge, your chest stirs with unease. Something about their conversation has you unnerved. Though they said nothing outright, it feels as if there is more laced between the words. The queen and her father hardly sound as allies to the king. 

You try to wipe the apprehension from your mind. You are but a maid and not so well-versed on noble matters. It isn’t your place to unpiece their declarations or untangle their riddles. You are to get the water to sooth the daughter of Debray’s feet, it may yet save you a box to the ears. 

⚔️

You shiver as the cart bounces over the hard ground. You count a month or so since your departure from the capital though the days blend in a fog. The gradual creep of the chill has advanced upon the part, slowing the wheels, and sending the riders to pause and cover their horses. You keep the fur cloak over your lap as you lean into the corner of the cart though Bryce seems enlivened by the atmosphere. 

The dim sky harkens the crossing of the intangible barrier between the summer and winter lands. Sprawling plains and rounded feels give way to rocky passes and jutting mountains, interspersed with lumpy tundras speckled with patches of mud. Several times, your soldierly escort has had to help yank free the wheels from some rut or another. 

“Are we there?” You ask through as chatter, blowing into your hands. “The Hinterlands?” 

“Mm, by my guess, we are at the Fox’s Tail. You see, it is the little strip of land where no man lives, summer or winter,” he explains, reaching to scratch his beard. You envy the warmth it must give to his cheeks. “Isn’t so cold yet, mouse, better brace yerself.” 

You nod and look ahead at the grey, brown expanse. There are dustings of frost but not snow, only on the distant caps of rugged mountains that shadow the horizon. You hug yourself as Daisy’s breath plumes in misty clouds around her head. 

“Why does no one live here?” You ask. 

“There are no trees, no grass to feed the livestock or game,” he shrugs, “it is barren...” he sucks his teeth and thinks, “there was a war. Hundreds of years ago, maybe more. The summer folk spilled upon the winter lands, some squabble over a slain lord... they put salt to the earth. They did not only want vengeance on the living, they wanted their descendants to suffer for their misdeeds. Starve out an entire people.” 

He snorts and shakes his head, “what the summer people didn’t understand is that the winter skinned do not stay still. They move with the winds. You’ll see, mouse. You haven’t done the last of yer scurrying.” 

You huddle down as another cold breath sweeps through the air. You’re not used to it but you will be. That’s how it always is. You just have to take what you get and make it work. You can’t complain for what you have; a warm cloak, a cart, and a kind companion. 

⚔️

Your teeth chatter as you hold closed the front of the fur cloak, the hood over your head as you walk the frozen earth. More often than not, you’ve left the prized cape in your cart for your return. It is too heavy to wear while serving the queen but the weather permits you no mercy. It is far too bitter to forgo the extra layer. 

Bryce is unbothered in his mail and the simple fur trim the collar of his wool cloak. He only seems to thrive in the dipping temperatures, stoking a fire for your nocturnal return so that you may sleep in its warmth. His constancy keeps you from mourning the lost summer sunshine. 

He stands behind you as you cross to the queen’s tent, now raised with several layers to insulate the walls. You enter as you do every night, unnoticed as Queen Jazlene mindlessly stares into the pages of a book. She’s grown quiet these last weeks as the travel wears on her, even her wardrobe showing the effects. 

You feel a gust from beneath the tent wall and step away from it. You watch the queen, huddled beneath a blanket on a stool, shaking as she tries to warm her hands in each other. She wears several satin cloaks layered over each other but the fabric is too sleek to garner much heat. 

She puffs into her palms and groan.  

“Damn this cold,” she mutters, then sits up, “maid, tea!” She demands, “Something warm! Anything!” 

You utter a small “your highness” and spin away to your task. You step out into the cold and go off to find a fire and a pot. The queen has some berry tea in her chests.  

You acquire a cup of steaming water from a cluster of servants around a flame. You linger for a moment to absorb some of the fire’s haze then set back toward the royal tent. As you near, a shadow nearly collides with you. You keep the cup balanced as you scramble around the figure. The torch light catches the king’s golden eyes as they meet yours. 

“Your highness,” you murmur. 

He grunts as he stops fully. He stares down at you wordlessly. You cannot read his expression as shadows dance around his features, flickering various emotions across his face. He bows his head and presses on. You turn to watch him go as concern rolls up your throat. 

In those last weeks, months you believe, you’ve not seen much of the king. You’ve wondered after his elusivity. At first, you thought it might be due to the combat at Debray, perhaps he was disheartened by the last act of resistance. Then you surmised it might be evasion of his own wife. Alas, you could not guess and fathomed it was not your place to do so. 

This brief encounter further perplexes you. You can’t help but question if it is you. You recall the last day in the capital, the grit of his voice casting you out. Go. The memory ripples through you. 

You think much of yourself. It wouldn’t be anything to do with a paltry maid. You focus on the hot water in your hand and continue on to the queen’s tent. 

You enter and wrap the dried berries and leaves, steeping them in the steaming water. You hover over the cup, waiting for the water to deepen in hue and cool enough to drink. When you bring it to the queen, you feel her gaze upon you. 

“Your highness,” you hand her the cup. 

She hesitates to take it, only doing so after deep consideration. She holds the tea in one hand as her other tugs on your cloak. She makes an ugly noise. 

“And where did you find this, maid?” She sneers. “Hmm, I sit her in my summer garb and you wear a bear’s skin?” 

Your lips part and you raise your shoulders. You look at the tent wall and frown. You poke your hand outside the cloak and touch the soft fur.  

“Your highness,” you look down at the cloak then at her trembling grasp on the cup. “Would you like it? You look awfully cold.” 

“Yes, I want the damn cloak!” She yanks it hard, “I am the queen and you did not think to offer me a proper cloak? How stupid are you.” 

You bow your head and reach to unbuckle the cloak. When it is loose, you shrug it off and hand it over. You will find a spare blanket. There must be some left among the luggage. 

She shoves the cup at you and stands. She swings the cloak around her and hums as she pulls its snug around her figure. She sits again and rubs her chin against the fur. 

“Much better,” she says, “I’ve been suffering this damnable place for far too long.” 

She takes the tea back, spilling a drop on your hand. You back away, the liquid cooling and sending a new chill through you. You cover one hand with the other and clutch tightly, locking your jaw against the tremor that crawls up your spine. 

The queen slurps from the tea and makes a face. She sneers, “I want wine,” she pouts, “how long must I be deprived? Wine!” She snarls down at the cup, “but I must drink this bile. Oh, but the king bids it,” she raises her voice mockingly, “you must obey your husband.” She shakes her head and takes another gulp, “at least it is warm. At least--”  

She holds the cup away from her suddenly as her face twists. She drops it and recoils, panic washing over her. She keels forward, holding her skirts out of the way as she spews onto the rug spread over the hard ground. She wretches loudly, spasming with the horrid sounds snagging in her throat. 

The smell of her vomit permeates the tent. She stays bent over her lap as she pants. You come forward and offer her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth. She sits up and gulps tightly, her features drawn. She pats her lips. 

“Well, clean it up,” she turns her feet away from the puddle between them. “Stupid maid.” 

She pokes a sharp nail into your arm and you wince.  

“Your highness, are you unwell?” You ask, “shall I fetch a physician? Or some ginger?” 

“No, you stupid cow, I am not unwell,” she flicks her fingers at you before waving away the stench of her bile. She stands and walks away from it, her hand settling on her middle. She faces you and smiles broadly, “I am carrying the king’s son.” Her face darkens as she wrinkles her nose, “I told you, you twit, to clean that up. You best do so before I make you eat it.” 

You nod and bend your neck, “yes, your highness, I will fetch water.” 

“I don’t care, just do it,” she snaps and rubs her stomach. She lets out a shuddery groan and turns her back to you. You watch as she draws tight the cloak and sways with a trill, “I will be a true queen now. He cannot deny me any longer.” 

[lilspacewolfie]

Writing Masterlist:

‼️🔞MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🔞‼️

This blog is 18+ as I write explicit material (unmarked fics are for general audiences). Most of my work is on my Ao3.

If you have a prompt for me, throw it into my ask box! But please read my writing request rules first! Requests: OPEN!

Please note: all my works are contained in their own, unconnected verses unless stated otherwise. I'm pro-minding-your-business. Do not bring me drama. I’m too old for that shit.

‼️ Important update: As of 30/04/25 my fics are locked down due to the Ai scraping happening on ao3. Please make accounts and support your writers‼️

(This masterlist is always being updated please DO NOT reblog!)

Main Devil!Terzo verse: Follows an AU in which Terzo is Lucifer (The Devil) incarnate. (fic references: Basic layout of Copia's apartment ⛧ Copia's rats ⛧ Some amazing fanart for this story: here, here, here, here, here, here (more spicy ones by delulluart can be found on the fic!)

⛧ You Will Never Walk Alone: Chapters 18/? (Ao3 only, Devil!Terzo x Copia, Current ongoing *WIP* please read the tags & triggers!) E/18+ **SLOW UPDATES**

Semi-verse Related Oneshots: Some self-indulgent slice of life stuff for my main AU.

⛧ The Devil's Treasure (Ao3 only, 3.9k words, NSFW, SMUT, soft dom devil!terzo, bathing/washing, praise kink, devil!terzo taking care of copia during a thunderstorm) E/18+

⛧ The Devil's Claim (Ao3 only, 5k words, NSFW, SMUT, very low-stakes jealousy, angst & fluff, they work it out in the end) E/18+

⛧ The Devil's Whore (Ao3 only, 2.3k words, NSFW, SMUT, playful flirting, desperation, a touch of voyeurism) E/18+

⛧ The Devil's Heart (Ao3 only, 2.9k words, NSFW, SMUT, follow on from the devil's whore, praise kink, love-making, tenderness) E/18+

Ficlets:

⛧ Reassurences (also on Ao3, 498 words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, SFW from fluffy dialogue prompts, very short and sweet, seriously my teeth hurt, anxiety disorder, heavy on the tenderness, pillow talk)

⛧ Devil On Your Back (also on Ao3, 575 words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, NSFW, SMUT, sexual content, soft and sweet, love-making, soft dom devil!terzo, body worship, handjobs, praise kink, copia is #stressed, lucifer gives him a hand and his dick) E/18+

Drabbles:

⛧The Devil's Kisses (1.1k words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, NSFW, SMUT, from send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss, copia suffers from migraines, a lot of softness here, very soft and sweet, sexual content, playful flirting, teasing, oral, love-making, lots of forehead and temple kisses, truly those are my weakness, grief & loss of a pet at the end, minor death if that bothers you, but it's not described in detail) E/18+

Devilish Requests: Mainly featuring Devil!Terzo x Copia or Devil!Terzo x Omega.

⛧ Blinded (Ao3 only, 1.2k words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, NSFW, SMUT, dom devil!terzo, light bondage, edging, blindfolds) E/18+

⛧ Let Me Hear You (Ao3 only, 886 words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, NSFW, SMUT, soft dom, voice kink, handjobs) E/18+

⛧ After (Ao3 only, 740 words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, NSFW, SMUT, aftercare, bodyworship, tenderness, subspace, follows on from Blinded, aftermath of smut) M

⛧ Stress Relief (Ao3 only, 997 words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, NSFW, SMUT, rough oral, breathplay) E/18+

⛧ In The Quiet (Ao3 only, 944 words, Devil!Terzo x Copia, mild NSFW, anxiety, tenderness, light angst, pillow talk) M

⛧ Devil In A Dress (Ao3 only, 1.5k words, Devil!Terzo x Omega, NSFW, SMUT, dom/sub, rough oral, smut inspired by van's art) E/18+

Oneshots:

⛧ A Little Mercy (also on Ao3, 1.4k words, Terzo x Copia, NSFW, SMUT, sexual content, soft dom terzo, body worship, light-bondage, oral, teasing, blindfolds, edging) E/18+

Drabbles:

⛧ Breathe With Me (1.5k words, Terzo x f!reader, SFW, only mild nsfw i guess since naked cuddling happens, anxious reader, soft terzo, co-regulation, breathing techniques, no beta we die like sister imperator.)

⛧ Scars and Stretchmarks (1.5k words, Terzo x Copia, mild NSFW, from send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss, soft dom terzo, very soft and sweet because I can't not make everything a little sweet, mild sexual content, teasing, stretchmarks, insecurities, guilt & grief, copia needs a hug, anxiety disorder, sort of a panic attack if that triggers you) M

Oneshots:

⛧ Failed Date (also on Ao3, 1.6k words, Cardinal Copia x gn!reader, SFW, very little description to keep it as gender-neutral as possible, soft copia, failed date, sweet ending, just all around very soft and fluffy)

Drabbles:

⛧ Relaxing Night With Copia (??? words (idk im so tired lmao), Copia x gn!reader, SFW, soft copia, pastina!, reader and copia are as exhausted as I am right now, a lot of softness it’s killing me, tired idiots in love, bullet point format.)

Ficlets:

⛧ Lazy Sunday Gaming (639 words, Copia x gn!reader, soft and sleepy gaming session with Copia, cuddling and snuggling, short and sweet, I wrote this on my phone on a sunday morning when i was half asleep please enjoy <3)

Oneshots:

⛧ I Will Hold You For The Minute (also on Ao3 1.1k words, Copia x gn!reader, SFW, soft and angsty, idk i have too many feelings right now, ghovie related, Copia stresses a lot, lots of kisses, sweetness, that new fit oh my fucking satan its so hot, no beta.)

Ficlets:

⛧ Ghost: Chapter 20 (Content: 650 words, Copia x f!oc, ghost chapter 20 related, softness with a sprinkle of angst, SFW though slightly suggestive at the end.)

⛧ Reading Copia Unhinged Comments (Content: 1.1k words, Copia & gn!reader, SFW, ghost chapter 20 related again, lots of softness and hurt/comfort, you cheer copia up by reading unhinged takes.)

⛧ Remedy (Content: 1.9k words, Copia x f!oc, softness, mostly SFW, slightly suggestive themes and semi-naked cuddling.) M

⛧ Sundays (Content: 1k words, Copia x f!oc, NSFW, SMUT, softness, just these two enjoying so good old fashion morning sex, body worship, p in v sex, naked cuddling, aftercare, some teasing.) E/18+

Drabbles:

⛧ Papas Caring For Hospitalized Reader (also on Ao3, 2k words, Papas x gn!reader, SFW, bullet-pointed format, mentions of hospitals, needles (only mentioned), mention of general anaesthetic, angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety, lots of sweetness, you're getting pampered, no beta we die like nihil!)

🜏 ⛧ 🜏

Misc Stuff:

My Art Tag ⛧ My Gifs Tag ⛧ Blog dividers used set 1 & set 2 ⛧ Moving graphics can be found here ⛧

[stayteezdreams]

Halloween Requests - CLOSED

Status: CLOSED

These are requests for my 13 Days of Halloween in which I post 1 or more content posts every day from October 19th to the 31st. *some requests may not be written, and some may be saved to come out later on (if they are not strictly Halloween specific).

Who I write For: *will update if a member or group is requested too much

Ateez *No longer taking requests for Yunho!

Stray Kids

Seventeen

Tomorrow x Together

The Boyz

*all members of each group (x gn!reader)

13 Days of Halloween 2023 Masterlist

Things I do not write:

Detailed NSFW/Smut (suggestive content and PG13 is doable)

Pregnancy/child Content

Abuse/Member cheating

***Notes*** You can send in the number of the prompt(s) instead of the prompt itself if you want, but please specify which section it is from (dialogue, plot or scenario)

Feel free to send in your own ideas with or without prompts as well! These are just some ideas for inspiration :)

You can request 1-3 Prompts at once; feel free to mix and match or add a plot-line to your request.

If you are not sure who to request for, but like a prompt, go ahead and send a preferred group and the prompt and I will choose who to write it for.

*Crossed out Prompts are those I have received and are no longer available to request*

**No longer taking requests for** Ateez (all members) S.Coups Seungmin Bang Chan

Prompts under the cut!

Dialogue Prompts:

“I don’t think I’m alone in here.”

“This place creeps me out.”

“I thought I saw something.”

“Don’t you dare leave me in here alone.”

“You’re not scared of me?” “Should I be?”

"I don't believe in ghosts." "You will after tonight."

"If you say we should split up I will kill you."

“Love the costume but I’d rather see what’s under it.”

"Just because I'm not afraid of the dark, doesn't mean I like being in it"

"What do we do?" "Run!"

"Did you see that too?" "Yes." "Damn, I was hoping I was going crazy."

 “What do you do when a ghost has a crush on you? Asking for a friend.”

“I wonder, how many people are dead in that graveyard?” “Hopefully all of them…”

"Who needs a guardian angel when you can have a half-decent demon?"

"If I knew all it would take for you to hug me was a haunted house I would have brought you to one earlier."

"I've seen enough horror movies to know where this is going"

"If you get scared you can hold onto me." "Oh you'd love that wouldn't you?" "Very much."

"Are you scared?" "No." "Then why are you holding onto me so tightly?"

"I couldn't find a costume so I decided to come as your boyfriend."

"Where is that music coming from?"

"You look stupid" "I'm dressed as you."

"I know what you should be for Halloween." "What?" "Mine."

"Ghosts aren't real" "Then why is that person see-through?"

"I don't want you to wear that"

"Stop touching my hand." "I'm not touching your hand."

"Why is that guy staring at me?" "What guy?"

"Would you stop breathing so loudly!?" "I thought that was you"

"Why wont you come inside?" "You have to invite me in." "What are you, a vampire?"

"All the Angels were busy, so they sent me instead." "And what are you?" "Well I'm definitely no angel."

"Stop staring at me like that." "If you didn't want me to stare, you shouldn't have worn that."

"Are you and 'x' dating?" "No, why?" "Then why are you wearing a couples costume?"

Plot Prompts:

You get left behind in a haunted house and one of the cute actors helps you out and gets revenge on said "friends".

Meeting at a Masquerade

Lost in the woods

Carnival/Fair Date

A grabs B’s hand instinctively out of surprise or fear, and continues to hold it.

Finding out the "monster" costume they're wearing isn't a costume (monster/demon/supernatural au)

Visiting a pumpkin patch

Every Halloween you are visited by a stranger in your dreams, but this year, he shows up at your door in the real world.

Haunted House

Someone summoned a demon to take your soul, but the demon likes you too much to hurt you.

Choosing each other's costumes, and unknowingly matching.

You're scared and they try their best to comfort you.

Hearing a noise upstairs, but you live alone.

Ghost Hunting

Vampire Frat - you know the guys in the house beside you are Vampires. But they don't know you're a witch. Until Halloween, when your powers grow stronger, they can't help but notice odd things happening around you.

A cute guy shows up trick or treating with their younger sibling/family member, he comes back later just to see you again.

At a Halloween themed carnival/fair and the scary yet attractive actor wont stop following you around.

Cinderella/Masquerade AU: You recognize them but they don't recognize you. Don't tell them who you are and they search for you (college/office au - or something similar?)

You save a cat/dog/other animals on the street, only to wake up the next day to find a man in it's place instead.

You move into your newly purchased house, only to discover someone or something already lives there.

Every Halloween for the last 5 years, a package mysteriously shows up in your house. This year, instead of a package, you find a stranger waiting for you.

Halloween Date

You are invited to an office Halloween party, and someone in a monster mask seems to want to keep you company. But who is it?

Jealousy: You attend a Halloween party and 'x' can't handle the attention you are getting from others, this causes them to make their feelings known.

College Au Carnival Game: Bobbing for apples but the apple you manage to get indicates who you will go on a date with.

Cozy autumn camping trip with friends leads to confession from someone.

They mistake you as their friend at a costume party and accidentally kidnap you.

Seven Minutes in Hell: You lose a game and have to spend 7 minutes in a haunted house with 'x'.

Halloween Movie Night: You have a movie night with your friends and your crush takes the opportunity to get cozy with you.

Abandoned: You are left in the woods by a bad friend, you know there is something or someone in the woods with you, but you get the feeling they're watching over you.

Scenario/Headcanons Prompts: *will do multiple members or whole group if requested *some of these might include drabbles

How 'x' reacts to you wearing a sexy/appealing costume

How 'x' reacts to you wanted to wear a couples costume + what you end up dressing as

What you would do for a Halloween/Autumn themed date

You choose each other's costumes

*Crossed out Prompts are those I have received and are no longer available to request*

Feel free to send in your own ideas with or without prompts as well! These are just some ideas for inspiration :)

You can request 1-3 Prompts at once; feel free to mix and match or add a plot-line to your request.