#Pretty privilege is definitely a thing in here

[oxymoronictransfem]

I saw this and I found it interesting, I do like the points made.

Edit: I misinterpreted this post initially, the post did mean to acknowledge how passing does still result in some forms of systemtic privilege. I still like my points here though so I'll leave it up.

A lot of people misunderstand what privilege can mean and I don't fault them for it, the narrative around privilege itself is pretty faulty.

The dictionary definition of privilege is “a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group,” which in part is correct though I think it doesn't properly highlight how prominent that immunity aspect really is.

People who pass as a privileged social position do experience their own struggles. Trust me, I'd know. It hurts to have my transfemininity or my indigeneity invalidated in my day to day life when they're meaningful parts of identity. Being told “you pass so well” is one of the most hurtful insults I hear for so many reasons. It also sucks and leaves me vulnerable to not receive as much support or community for those things.

As much as this is all true, what's also true is that there are certain degrees of violence I'm largely exempt from. I'm less likely to be targeted on the street for being a trans woman, I'm less likely to have anti-Indigeneity weaponized against me. My parents and the medical system don't recognize me as transfeminine. That's a privilege that exists at the same time as the difficult parts. They're privileges because I'm exempt from something, not because I've gained something.

Plus if part of the reason I'm marginalized is because I'm living in fear of being recognized as who I am, I have to think about the people who are immediately “clocked” that way.

In the case of white passing mixed people or straight passing queer people the same concept applies. There are certain forces they are definitively exempt from: mixed people with pale skin and straight hair are exempt from colourism and texturism. That's a privilege but it doesn't automatically mean they take up the same social position as their oppressor. Their positionality is complicated, it is precarious and it is a very difficult position to live. It comes with its own challenges and its own benefits, people like us deserve the space to voice our experiences but we should also be invested as much as possible in uplifting those who suffer the most from certain forms of marginalization.

Marginalization varies like that, it targets its victims differently. It isn't cut and dry for most people, they tend to inhabit diverse intersections of privilege and oppression where their designations put them in varied places. Everyone has systemic privileges even within their own forms of marginalization.

All of these things can exist at the same time.

I want to talk about the terms White, Straight and Cis passing privilage... And how they're kind of inaccurate to the average passing persons experience.

It is not a privilege to have to shove down, hide, or escape a part of your identity for your well being and safety. It is also not a privilege to have people ignore oart of your identity for their comfortability. The only privilege is when people know and respect your identity unfaulteringly.

Mixed folks who have lighter skin or straightened hair aren't experiencing privilege. They're experiencing white people projecting whiteness and erasing their color. That is hurtful and any advantages are quickly lost if you dare argue with them on how they see you. It's also lost if you stand up for fellow poc or the issues their community faces.

Bisexuals who are having either Straight and Gay people assign them heterosexual even though many preach "don't assume or force anyone to out themselves." It's not a privilege I imagine tl be told that you look straight when you aren't. I as a masc butch I don't feel validated being called straight why would a bisexual?? Also with the ammount of families who project their want for you to be with the opposite sex/gender even after you come out is a major fucking loss actually.

Being cis passing means shit comments, the risk of being outed and then hurt, and other queers projecting their belief there is a "gay look" on you to the point where they'll act like you're on cis peoples side for "following the binary too close."

Personally I think it should be called _____ passing safety or something similar?

Because that's the main reason people hide themselves to pass. And it's the reason they don't argue when someone assigns them and identity. Is because of fear of backlash, harm, or even the risk of death.

Idk it's not fully fleshed (So feel free to add your own thoughts on the matter) out but privilege implies gain, and none of those really gain youanything. Especially if it can be taken at. moments notice if they learn who you actually are.

[hollyparker]

~ Okay, before I start this, I will first like to say that I’m not hating on anyone. This is all fiction; you can like, stan, or hate whatever characters or ships you want. I’m just here to have fun and get away from my real-life issues, honestly. This post was only to talk about the hypocrisy in the Marauders fandom. So I really hope no one gets offended by this because that was not my intention and that never is, and I do apologize if it comes off as such. ~

So awhile back, I saw a TikTok of some girl saying how she never meant to start a war she just told a Snape stan that he was originally a death eater. And I was all like, “Yeah, okay facts, he is/was," but then I read her comments and realized that she was one of those Snape haters. You know, the hypocritical and delusional ones. Where they hate on Snape and the people that like him (which, hating Snape is fine. You don’t have to like him. It’s only an issue when you bully people that do like him and make them feel bad for it), but then go on and stan Barty, Regulus, and ever other death eater in that little cult. 

She was literally saying how Regulus, Barty, and Evan are different from Snape. And I mean, yes, they’re all different, but they’re all still bad people and death eaters. Then she goes on to talk about how they’re different from Snape because “at least they didn’t bully and abuse kids” (which they literally did, especially Barty. As stated in the books and shown in the movies. The DE’s were actively hunting these kids down and literally torturing people ‘i.e. Bellatrix and Barty torturing the Longbottoms to insanity’), “There’s not a lot of information on them”, and “they’re baby girls”. 

Then she goes on to say that “although Barty was a DE, he was clever and loyal, unlike Snape, who is a whimp"…..Huh? You don’t like the fact that Snape wasn’t loyal to Voldemort? So do you actually like what the DE's and Voldy stand for? I’m a little confused on that one. 

And someone commented that Barty did in fact abuse kids, as he was literally trying to kill Harry. And she goes on to say that it’s not abusing children and that Barty didn’t even want to do it; he was simply doing what Voldy told him to do. Like, what?? Just what? Barty is literally a proud DE (and she said it herself that he is loyal to Voldemort), so if his precious “master” tells him to do something, he’s going to want to do it, and he’s going to do it happily. No hesitation, no remorse. If Voldemort wants it, then he wants it. Voldy tells Barty to go kidnap, kill, or abuse some kids, then he’ll do it. Whatever, just to please him.

Then she acknowledges that he tortured the Longbottoms, but then goes on and says, “But are they children? No.” As if that makes it any better!? He was still torturing and abusing people. He is NOT a good guy 😭

I just really don’t understand why they can like all these awful (and I mean awful as in they did terrible things) death eater characters and get praised, and others nod their heads along with them, but the second someone shows the slightest interest in Snape, it’s as if someone killed their pet or their parents. It's like the biggest insult to their name or something. As if those other DE’s are not worse than Snape. They say “we don’t follow canon,” and yet they keep Snape canon or they make him wayyyy worse, like homophobic or a rapist or they’ll give his backstory/upbringing to other DE characters to make them more angsty and sad.

(ALSO, another point is the whole pretty privilege thing that goes on in the fandom, that they don’t like to admit is a thing, but it definitely is).

[fairestwriting]

sorry if you’ve done something like this-

What about Jade, Leona, Jamil and Vil with a S/O that somebody tried to love potion?

…warning for minor book/chapter 4 spoilers in the jamil one? in case anyone is a newcomer here. there was just No way i could write this without mentioning his lore. like. come on

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

Honestly, it’d take anyone some serious guts to try to do this. Or serious ignorance. Or straight up hubris, or maybe all of the above at the same time— Since your first few friendlier hangouts with Leona, it was pretty much known to most people who knew you that you were completely off-limits. Even if you just stayed friends, no sane person was going to mess with anyone who’s close to him. It’s almost an unspoken, pretty much school wide rule.

It was an especially bad choice for that perpetrator to try to slip you the potion during lunchtime. Maybe they’re a classmate you barely know, maybe they pretend to be a friend, it’d definitely have to be someone who could get away with approaching you to pretend to want some casual conversation. This privilege was soon to end, however, since you had agreed with Leona to meet up with him at the greenhouse after you ate.

The second you step inside, he can smell that something is off. By then you can already feel it starting to take effect, your head feeling foggy and suddenly occupied with thoughts of that person, which just feels confusing for now. You walk up to him, he’s sitting up with a frown on his face, asking you to come closer. Hazy, you step forward, and through your clouded vision you see him leaning in to smell you. It feels weird at the moment, you’re not sure if you’re comfortable with this— Even though that’s your boyfriend, you think, maybe you’d rather be this close with someone else…

He can’t tell it’s a love potion exactly, at least not just by smelling you, but he knows something is off. “Have you been up to anything weird lately, Herbivore?” He asks, his voice full of suspicion. You just shake your head, mention your classes today were all unremarkable, then so was lunch, you just met up with your friend, while you were eating. Somehow you can’t stop yourself from letting the subject linger on them, even though it puzzles you on the inside. He quickly picks up on what must have happened.

Really, anyone who even considers trying this has some nerve. He even says that out loud to them, after dragging you out of the greenhouse into a hunt for this specific person. You won’t even get the chance to remember much about the incident. Next thing you know, you’re in one of the potions lab, with an emptied vial of antidote in your hands. Leona is standing next to you with crossed arms and a death glare, and your “friend” is shaking behind a cauldron, having prepared that in record time. Even if notice of the incident spreads, Leona definitely won’t want you to leave his side anytime soon…

𐙚 Jade Leech

Another case in which attempting anything with you is definitely a feat of courage. Even though there’s a higher chance they wouldn’t know you’re dating Jade in the first place, because of how private he is, he’s clearly fond of you. And that’s without even taking into consideration how often he’s around. Jade doesn’t have the sort of infamy Leona dows, but it’s not any less intimidating of a situation, anyone with eyes can tell he’s watching every person around him very closely…

They’d really have to get lucky to get you to consume even a single drop of anything. They might have even tried multiple times, in multiple different ways. Spiking your food or drink is not an option at all with him, because he’s sitting with you while you eat, and who would want to take that chance? If they got you, it was probably by offering you an “extra drink they got from the vending machine”, which might as well have been attempted before, with Jade successfully distracting you from the drink every time.

”My, how kind of you. I’ve heard that soda is very popular, is that true?” Somehow, he shows up just in time to strike up conversation with the person, placing a hand on the can they tampered with. ”I don’t recall seeing this brand back home. Would you mind if I had a small sip first?” He looks at them, then at you, with a strange menacing smile. Once again, that person is taking the can back and stammering excuses that make less and less sense as time passes…

If they’re brave/stupid enough, and you’re oblivious enough, Jade will just sneakily make himself your bodyguard, ready to catch any new attempts and stop them right before you could get the spiked drink anywhere near your lips. He’ll do it as many times as he has to— And if it goes on for long enough, and one day they decide to not take their little trap back, he will literally just open it and drink the whole thing. He’ll do it while making eye contact with them, even. “Oh, I’m sorry, my hand slipped. It’s really unfortunate when that happens, isn’t it? It’s very easy to forget, since most of the time it doesn’t cause any harm… But the wrong ‘slip’ could really cost you your hand, you know… It’s important to be careful.” He doesn’t look away from them for even one second.

You’re confused as hell, Jade is weird a lot of the time, but just what’s going on right now? He hands them back the can, and just waves his hand at your question, telling you he’ll explain on the way as he walks off to get some antidote. From the nurse, specifically. And it’s not because he can’t make his own, because he could probably do it before the dizziness even hit— It’s to get your little “friend” in trouble with the staff, he’ll even play up the symptoms to make sure they get a nasty suspension… Even if they’re not expelled, you somehow never see them again.

𐙚 Jamil Viper

Not happening. At all. You have no “off limits” fame, no one knows you’re dating (Upon Jamil’s own request) and even if they did, they wouldn’t be that intimidated to try to make a move on you normally. He’s too busy to be lingering around you too much, plus he just wants you to have your own independence in general… everything is seemingly stacked in the favor of that person who wants to slip you the potion, but it’s nowhere near enough to get past Jamil. It just could never be.

…So you’d think it’d be easy for someone to catch you off guard, try to slip something in your food or drink. But there’s just no way that potion isn’t even making it into the vial. Really, with the upbringing Jamil had, could any fellow teenager manage to fly under his radar when trying to tamper with your things? Not a chance. He’s learned to spot real, professional assassins going after Kalim. Catching on to some other student’s creepy behavior is nothing to him.

He knew it before he even heard that person’s name, or saw them talk to you with his own eyes. It just takes a few conversations about this weird classmate of yours who you started suspecting might like you for him to be able to tell they don’t have good intentions. ”...I know I might sound paranoid, but I think you should be careful around them.” Is all he says, when you two talk about it the first time. You know him well enough to be aware of how serious that warning is.

Nothing is said after that, but he’s watching them closely too. You don’t eat lunch together that often, but Jamil always watches your table from afar when he’s not there. At first it’s just out of habit, but now that he’s got an eye on this person, their every move has your full attention. And it’s all just too familiar, the way they seem to also watch your table, or more specifically, watch you while you eat. He can even sense their frustration at how guarded you’ve gotten since his warning.

You’ll never even hear about a possible poisoning attempt because he catches them in the middle of their potion brewing— With a good chance he wasn’t even trying to do that. He just happened to spot them acting weird in the hallways, and decided to investigate. Following them to the laboratory, standing outside of the door to see what’s happening, maybe take a video or two. He then walks inside, no notable expression on his face, and speaks to them. ”I wouldn’t do this if I were you. Even making this potion outside of class could get you in serious trouble.” Nothing else is said, he shows them the video on his phone screen, and walks off. Next thing you hear, they got suspended, an when they come back, they won’t even dare to meet your eyes.

𐙚 Vil Schoenheit

The day you two agreed you’d make your relationship official, you also had a very long talk about the things that it might entail—The worries had been stewing in his mind for a while now, at first regarding his own reputation, but eventually they turned their focus to you. He’s had people interacting strangely with people who were just his dormmates, so one could only wonder how they’d treat someone they suspect is his partner…You’re warned at the very start that it’s a good idea to be cautious of others. But because it’s Vil, and he has all those vocal, sometimes fanatic admirers that are seemingly just everywhere, it can be kind of sadly easy to forget that this type of person could fixate on you too.

It becomes a bit of a dilemma for him, when he hears about this classmate of yours you’ve been talking to occasionally. On one hand, of course he wants you to have friends, he’s not crazy. On the other, he already has a weird feeling from the interactions you describe. Then under all his common sense, he just feels sort of jealous in general. You might notice he suddenly looks alarmed, and he might even remind you it’s important to be careful with others. But even if you take it to heart, would you really outright assume they were planning anything so creepy?

It’s a thankful coincidence that dating Vil also means learning a lot about potions. You often sit around in the Pomefiore dorm laboratory while he’s doing something, and he’s happy to explain the process to you however many times you need. Ironically, the specific subject of attempted love potion slips might come up. It happens to celebrities often, after all, it’s not crazy to think someone would try to get to him— ”They teach you to not eat or drink anything a fan gives you. You accept it if they’re handing it out, but you don’t touch it. And it’s not just for the sake of keeping up with your diet.” He retells you what he was taught. ”You don’t even donate it, since it could be tampered with. Usually, there are tells, but not always…”

Then question becomes, how skilled could another student get, specifically when compared to how observant you can be? It could go either way here. It’s easy to be alarmed by anyone offering you snacks or drinks after Vil tells you these stories, but you’re not a celebrity, so would that really happen to you? What if you’re just forgetful, or they really manage to get you at a moment when you’re vulnerable? Luckily, no matter how sneaky someone is, they can’t hide the effects of the potion forever. On the color of your drink, the smell, the taste… or, in a worst case scenario, in the way it feels when it starts to kick in.

You’ll know something is wrong, and he’s lectured you enough you know to get an antidote from the nurse if needed, and you know to report it to school staff. It’s dealt with quickly enough, but no matter when he finds out, he’s outraged all the same. ”How does a student get away with even trying to brew something like this? Staff shouldn’t allow just anybody to use laboratories unsupervised…” Vil fusses over you, smoothing your clothes just so his hands have something to do. Even if you didn’t swallow any of the potion, he tells you to take the day off to rest and stays nearby. Of course he wouldn’t just let the situation be solved without reacting, but first, he has to be sure you’re safe.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑫𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒎𝒊𝒏*

Daddy Series:

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut

-💜

•Daddy Seungmin! Is very playful.

•He likes to tease you in anyway possible.

•Sometimes he can take it too far but he always makes it up to you.

•He’s very, very protective of you.

•He’s definitely got that scary dog privilege.

•He’s not a fighter but anyone makes you feel any type of way he’ll put them in their place one way or another.

•He definitely acts like he doesn’t wanna do cute stuff with you.

•He’ll make a big deal of it but always folding at anything his baby wants.

•Matching PJs? No. He hates it.

•Not really. He loves it.

•Loves it way more than he’ll let you know.

•He has such an aura about him too.

•The look he gives you when you’re doing something you’re not supposed to or giving him attitude?

•Is always enough to make you stop.

•You’ve seen him angry maybe once.

•Some guy trying to grab you. He would have went to jail that day if it wasn’t for you.

•He held you close telling you it wasn’t any of your fault.

•That he wasn’t mad at you.

•Reassuring you how much he loved you especially after seeing how scared you were.

•However the days you want to poke the big bad dog it’s always game over.

•He’s definitely a brat tamer.

•He does like the little attitude you give him though.

•Finding it almost adorable, like a small kitten annoying a well big dog lol.

•He’s quiet when you misbehave badly, which is even scarier.

•”Do you want to fix it before I have to?” He’d ask.

•When you keep going he can’t help but chuckle.

•Manhandling you over his leg making sure you count loud and clear as he gives you your punishment.

•After he always sits you up, having a conversation with you about what you did.

•He’s always there to reassure you that he doesn’t want to do it.

•That he still loves you, but you have to listen.

•Another form of punishment he’s uses is not letting you have any treats.

•No ice cream after dinner, no cookies. Not until you apologize.

ੈ♡˳Smut Below

•Daddy Seungmin can differ depending on his mood.

•There’s days where he manhandles you.

•Pushing you up against the wall, pulling at your clothes because god you look to pretty.

•These days you’ll leave with marks all over you.

•Soft purple marks all over your neck, nail marks in your soft skin from him holding onto you so tightly.

•Softer days he’s unbearably slow.

•Taking his damn slow time.

•Treating you like glass.

•Soft touches, sensual kisses. Sweet words.

•He’s really good at pushing your boundaries though. In a respectful way.

•He’ll never do anything you don’t want

•You like being spanked though? He’s seeing how many you can take.

•Overstimulation? He’s seeing how many orgasms he can pull from you till you’re crying.

•Some of his favorite things phrases are.

•”see what that attitude brings you”

•”such a filthy thing aren’t you?”

•”you want more? So greedy”

•”begging isn’t gonna get you anywhere sweetheart”

•Aftercare with daddy Seung is full of cuddles.

•He’s not moving from until he knows you’re alright.

•He’ll whisper against your skin how much he loves you.

•How you’re so perfect and you’re all his.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[pseudospaceship]

I have thought extensively on the subject. Here goes.

Grave gold seems to be a necromancer thing, not a general-populace Nevarran thing (as far as I can tell?). If Rook is also MW, all good. Emmrich gives Rook ALL. THE. GOLD. until Rook is like, "My sweet, my love, this shit is heavy and my arms now do not move. Help."

If Rook is any other faction, shit gets sociological. Because mortalitasi dowry can't possibly just be "here's a visual representation of my wealth and also some pretty stuff to bury me with." It's a ritual thing. It's got taboos. You should wear most of it all the time except maybe for sleep and definitely not for times when you absolutely shouldn't wear it, either because the occasion pollutes it or vice versa. Maybe there are pieces you never remove. Maybe there are pieces you never wear because of who gave them to you or for what occasion. There are rules around who gives to whom and how much and rules around how much you can buy for yourself. There are rules about whether and how you can give pieces away while you're still living. You definitely can't sell your own dowry, unless the alternative is literal starvation. There might be certain patterns or metals associated with particular orders.

Although (ritual, not medical) corpse contamination doesn't take the same forms in Nevarra as it does in other societies, it or some analogue clearly exists in some form in, for example, the popularity of vegetarianism (corpses are friends, not food). So it's reasonable to assume there are some events/activities/modes of being with which necromancy is not supposed to mix. So maybe, as a compromise, every necromancer removes their dowry for, like, the winter solstice festival or something. Now they are, ritually and temporarily, not a necromancer and they can go party.

BUT SPOUSES, not being mortalitasi, are not beholden to these rituals. Their jewelry is not, in a strict sense, dowry. Therefore it is neither necessary to wear nor under the same restrictions. Rook can choose to wear or not wear the pieces Emmrich gives them in any combination they like, and can wear them on occasions when Emmrich cannot. If there are particular forms or patterns that are restricted to the MW, it stands to reason that Rook can't wear them, unless it's understood that the privilege extends to family.

However, a long time ago some smart people figured out that, on the rare occasion one of these nerds gets out there and attracts one of the Surface Dwellers, it looks really weird for Partner A to be decked out like the worst kind of Christmas tree and Partner B to be wearing less than a first-year novice would consider the bare minimum. Plus all the rest of the nerds are marrying each other, so giving your partner gaudy jewelry is a super basic and normal part of necromancer life. There are poems about it. There are whole epic romances about it. Which means that in Emmrich's mind, NOT giving Rook gold is tantamount to saying, "I don't think you fit in and I wouldn't want you to." The idea wouldn't even occur to him. If he saw another necromancer with an unadorned partner he would privately be very concerned about the state of that relationship, and he might not even identify why at first.

Which also means (and I haven't written this into a fic yet but maybe I will and so should you) that eventually Rook has to set a "no gold as a default gift" rule, because they're building up way more than they can wear and they have a LOT of other interests, and while Emmrich is certainly the World Champion Thoughtful Husband, it would be very easy for our busy professor of Fade studies to rush out and buy a couple of bracelets like stopping by the gas station for some flowers.

Has anyone discussed how a romanced Emmrich would gift Rook their own grave gold (especially if Rook is also MW)? And how they would definitely have sex in nothing but their grave gold? I haven’t seen anything on it but there’s no way this is an original thought.

[calypso-rt]

detour!

with the insufferable Rafe Cameron

| one | | two |

-> Rafe x F!reader

The wedding weekend is officially over.

Guests filter out of the lodge in clusters, some nursing hangovers, others waving sentimental goodbyes.

You stand near the gravel lot, arms crossed, watching as JJ dramatically drapes himself over the hood of Kiara’s car, claiming he’s “too emotionally fragile to leave yet.” Sarah is nearby, laughing as she helps John B pack up.

And then there’s you, trying very hard not to glance at Rafe, who stands a few feet away, running a hand through his hair as he checks his phone.

You pretend you’re not listening when someone calls your name.

“You need a ride?”

You turn to see Luke, one of the Pogues’ older friends, dangling his keys. “I’ve got room in the truck,” he adds. “Figured you wouldn’t wanna be stuck with him all the way back.”

Your lips part, instinct ready to say yes, because of course, that makes sense. It’s logical. No reason to put yourself through hours of close quarters tension with Rafe when you could ride with someone else.

But then...

You glance over.

And Rafe is looking at you.

Not like he’s expecting anything. Not like he’s waiting. Just... watching.

It’s subtle, but you catch the way his shoulders stiffen slightly, the way his fingers tighten around his phone. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t try to sway you.

He just looks away, like he already knows what you’re going to say.

And suddenly, for some reason, you hesitate.

“…Actually,” you say slowly, turning back to Luke. “I think I’ll just drive with Rafe.”

Luke raises a brow, glancing between you two. “You sure?”

No.

“Yes,” you say instead.

From the corner of your eye, you swear you see Rafe’s posture relax.

Luke shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He tosses his keys in the air and catches them before strolling off toward his truck.

You exhale, turning toward Rafe, who’s still looking at his phone like he wasn’t just listening to the whole thing.

“Guess we should hit the road,” you say, shifting on your feet.

Rafe nods, pocketing his phone. “Yeah.” He glances at you, something unreadable in his gaze before he steps toward the car.

You follow, trying to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought of spending the next few hours trapped in a car with him.

You tell yourself it’ll be fine.

It’s just a ride.

Nothing else.

…Right?

...

The first ten minutes are quiet.

You scroll through your playlist, pretending to be deep in thought while Rafe focuses on the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the gear shift. The soft hum of the engine fills the space between you, mixed with the occasional sound of his fingers tapping against the leather steering wheel.

It’s fine. Normal.

Until he ruins it.

“I still can’t believe you actually chose to ride with me.”

You don’t look up. “Would you rather I hadn’t?”

He smirks, eyes on the road. “Nah. Just figured I scared you off after our little honeymoon suite experience.”

Your head snaps toward him. “Oh, our honeymoon suite experience? Pretty sure I was the victim there.”

“Victim?” He scoffs. “Sweetheart, you got to share a bed with me. That’s a privilege, not a punishment.”

You make a face. “You stole the covers.”

“I was the covers.”

“I had to wake up in the middle of the night and rip them out of your death grip.”

Rafe snorts. “Yeah, and then you practically wrapped yourself around me in your sleep. Should’ve just admitted you wanted to cuddle.”

You gape at him. “I did not—”

“Oh, you definitely did,” he lies smoothly, knowing full well he was the one doing the cuddling. “Don’t worry, though. I won’t hold it against you.”

You groan, sinking into your seat. “I should’ve taken Luke’s truck.”

“You say that,” Rafe muses, “but we both know you’d miss me if I wasn’t here.”

You roll your eyes, but your stomach flips, because—ugh. You hate when he does that. When he says something in that half-joking, half-serious way that makes it impossible to tell if he actually means it.

He flicks a glance at you. “Admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That you’d be bored without me.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “Fine. I admit that without you, I’d be peacefully enjoying my music without someone inflating their ego next to me.”

Rafe chuckles. “Fair enough.”

Silence settles again, but this time, it’s different. Easier.

Then—

Your favorite song comes on.

And you barely have time to register it before Rafe reaches over and

Clicks ‘Next’.

Your gasp is pure outrage. “Excuse me?”

“Nope,” he says, entirely unrepentant, keeping his eyes on the road.

“That was my song!”

“Yeah, well, I’m driving. My car, my rules.”

You shove his arm. “It’s a universal rule that the passenger gets aux.”

“Not when the passenger has terrible taste.”

Your jaw drops. “You listen to EDM remixes of country songs, you absolute menace—”

“Hey, those go hard.”

“You’re deranged.”

He grins, and you know—you know—he’s doing this just to mess with you.

So you yank the phone off the dashboard and put your song back on.

Rafe groans. “You’re the worst.”

But you catch it.

The way his grip flexes slightly on the wheel. The way his lips twitch like he’s fighting a real smile.

The way, when he glances at you, there’s something softer in his expression than he probably realizes.

And you tell yourself not to overthink it.

Because, at the end of the day, this is just a drive.

Nothing else.

...Right?

...

It starts with a sputter.

A tiny, almost imperceptible hiccup in the engine.

You barely notice at first, too focused on the battle for control of the aux cord, your foot propped up on the dashboard while you scroll through playlists. But then the car gives a little lurch.

“Uh… what the hell was that?”

Rafe frowns, glancing down at the dashboard. “No clue.”

You both wait.

Another sputter. Another jolt.

Then, the car just… dies.

No dramatic explosion, no smoke billowing out from under the hood, just a slow, pathetic roll to a stop on the side of the road.

Rafe stares straight ahead, hands still gripping the wheel like he can will the car back to life.

You blink. “Oh, this is rich.”

Rafe exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. “No. No, no, no this cannot be happening right now.”

You snort. “I don’t know, Rafe. I think it just happened.”

He shoots you a look. “Not helping.”

You give him an innocent smile, but your amusement is short-lived as you glance around. The road is practically deserted, the nearest gas station at least ten miles back, and you don’t even have enough service to load a map.

Fantastic.

Rafe sighs, popping the hood and stepping out of the car. You follow, leaning against the door as he pokes around the engine, muttering curses under his breath.

After a minute, you arch a brow. “So? What’s the diagnosis, car expert?”

He gives you a flat look. “The diagnosis is that my car just randomly died and we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere.”

You hum. “Sounds serious.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Silence.

“So, how long until you fix it?” you ask sweetly.

Rafe groans, straightening up. “I swear to God, if you don’t stop talking—”

You smirk. “What? You afraid I’ll say I told you so?”

He glares. “You didn’t tell me anything.”

You shrug. “I thought about telling you to get your car checked before the trip. So technically, I was psychically right.”

Rafe closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. “I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“Bit late for that.”

He shoots you a glare, but there’s no real bite to it. If anything, there’s a twitch at the corner of his lips, like even he can’t help but be a little amused.

And that’s when he spots it.

Just past the treeline, a sloping hill gives way to a cluster of rooftops in the distance. A tiny town, tucked into the base of the mountains, nestled in a sea of green and gold wildflowers.

Rafe gestures toward it. “Town’s not far. We can walk there, find someone to tow the car.”

You glance down at your shoes, cute, yes, but entirely impractical for a trek through nature. “You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Fine. But if I die of heat stroke or get mauled by a bear, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

Rafe smirks. “Hot and a little unhinged. Gotta say, sweetheart, I like the energy.”

You shove his shoulder, but then he grins at you. That easy, boyish, almost-too-charming grin.

And against all logic, you can’t help but grin back.

...

The walk starts out fine.

Mostly because you are still convinced that if you complain enough, Rafe will magically fix the car with sheer willpower alone.

“That was a perfectly good vehicle,” you mutter as you trudge behind him. “A working one. One that had air conditioning and, oh, I don’t know, wheels.”

Rafe snorts, stepping over a fallen branch. “Really? Hadn’t noticed.”

You huff, swatting at a mosquito. “This is your fault.”

“How, exactly?”

“You jinxed it.” You dodge a shrub. “I bet if I were driving, we’d be at our homes by now.”

He turns slightly, giving you an unimpressed look. “You can’t drive stick.”

You wave a hand dismissively. “Details.”

Rafe chuckles, shaking his head, and despite the situation, despite the heat and the uneven trail, you don’t totally hate this.

Because it’s… nice out here.

Golden wildflowers stretch out in every direction, brushing against your legs as the two of you weave through the hills. The sun is just starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a honeyed glow over everything, and the town ahead looks like something straight out of a movie: rustic, picturesque, the kind of place that seems frozen in time.

Rafe slows down, glancing back at you. “You okay?”

Your face is flushed from the heat, a few strands of hair sticking to your forehead. You wipe them away, rolling your eyes. “Peachy.”

He smirks but doesn’t push it. Instead, he reaches out, casually and easily, and plucks a wildflower from beside the trail.

Then he tucks it behind your ear.

Your breath catches, because he does it so effortlessly, so naturally, like it’s a completely normal thing for him to do.

You blink up at him.

Rafe just smirks, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“There. Now you match the scenery.”

You scoff, ignoring the way your pulse flutters. “That was so corny.”

He grins. “Yeah, but it worked, didn’t it?”

You shake your head, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, you push ahead, pretending to be much more interested in reaching the town than in the fact that Rafe Cameron just tucked a flower behind your ear like you’re in some kind of romantic montage.

The trail dips, curving around a small stream, and then you finally step onto a paved road.

The town is small but charming, lined with old-fashioned lampposts and brick buildings with hanging flower baskets. There’s a diner on the corner with twinkling lights in the windows, a little gas station down the street, and an inn with a wraparound porch.

You exhale. “Civilization. Finally.”

Rafe stretches his arms over his head, cracking his neck. “Not bad. Could be worse.”

“Could be worse?” You give him a look. “I just had to hike in a dress, Rafe. Through the wilderness. I think I saw my life flash before my eyes twice.”

He rolls his eyes but grins. “You’re so dramatic.”

You’re about to retort when your stomach growls loudly.

Rafe smirks. “Food first?”

You sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that he is your only option right now. “Fine.”

...

The town is even cuter up close.

The streets are lined with cobblestone sidewalks, little boutiques with painted signs, and cozy brick buildings that look like they belong in a Hallmark movie. String lights crisscross above the main road, swaying gently in the late afternoon breeze, and the air smells like fresh bread, coffee, and something sweet... maybe pie.

You and Rafe step out of the diner, bell jingling behind you, stomachs full and feet finally rested. You should probably be focused on finding a way back, but right now the town is too charming to ignore.

“We should explore,” you say decisively, brushing crumbs off your dress.

Rafe gives you a look. “Explore?”

“Yes.” You gesture around. “Look at this place! When’s the next time we’re going to be stranded in the cutest town on the planet?”

His lips twitch like he wants to argue, but then his gaze sweeps over the town, taking in the fairy lights, the warm glow from shop windows, the distant sound of a street musician playing guitar.

He exhales. “Alright, fine. But if you drag me into some candle store that smells like fifty different flavors of vanilla, I’m walking back to the car.”

You grin, already leading the way.

The first stop is a bookstore, one of those tiny, independently owned ones with towering bookshelves. The air inside is warm, filled with the scent of old paper and lavender tea from a little café in the corner.

You trail your fingers along the spines, stopping when you recognize one of your favorites. “Oh—this one’s so good.”

Rafe raises a brow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say distractedly, flipping through the pages. Then, without thinking, you blurt, “You’d like it.”

There’s a pause.

When you glance up, Rafe is watching you, expression unreadable.

You clear your throat, shoving the book back onto the shelf. “Anyway. Next store.”

He smirks but doesn’t push it.

The next stop is an antique shop, filled with mismatched furniture, vintage postcards, and dusty record players.

Rafe immediately starts messing with things.

“What about this?” He holds up an atrocious ceramic cat figurine, complete with googly eyes.

You grimace. “If you buy that, I’m never speaking to you again.”

He grins. “Tempting.”

You roll your eyes, wandering over to a glass case filled with old jewelry. There’s something oddly romantic about it: lockets that have held secrets for decades, rings that have witnessed love stories long before yours.

You glance at Rafe. He’s already watching you, something soft in his expression.

You turn away before he can say anything.

Then, of course, there’s the candle store.

“I knew this would happen,” Rafe groans as you drag him inside.

“Just one candle!” you insist.

“You’re not even gonna buy one,” he mutters, trailing behind you as you pick up different scents and inhale deeply. “You’re gonna spend twenty minutes sniffing them and then walk out emptyhanded.”

You give him an innocent smile. “That’s half the fun.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but when he thinks you’re not looking, he picks up a candle labeled Stormy Nights and sniffs it.

You catch him, of course.

“Oh my God.” You gasp, clutching your chest in mock surprise. “You like this store.”

He immediately puts the candle down. “Do not start.”

You laugh, linking your arm through his before he can escape. “Come on, Rafe. Just embrace it.”

He groans, but he doesn’t pull away.

By the time the sun sets, you’ve somehow ended up at the town’s little lake, sitting on a wooden dock as the sky fades into deep indigo, the first stars appearing above. The town glows behind you, reflections shimmering on the water, the distant hum of conversation and soft music carrying through the night.

You sigh, dipping your fingers into the cool water. “Okay. I’ll admit it.”

Rafe leans back on his elbows. “Admit what?”

You glance at him. “This… wasn’t the worst way to be stranded.”

A smirk tugs at his lips. “Wow. The high praise is overwhelming.”

You nudge him with your foot, but he catches your ankle, his grip warm, solid. His thumb brushes lightly over your skin before he lets go.

Your stomach flips.

You look away, suddenly very interested in the water.

Rafe exhales. “We should probably figure out where we’re staying.”

You groan. “Please don’t say honeymoon suite.”

His smirk is way too smug. “I wasn’t gonna say it, but now that you mention it...”

You shove him, and he laughs, standing up and offering you a hand.

You hesitate for half a second, then take it.

The night is warm, the town glowing, and somehow, somehow, this doesn’t feel like a disaster anymore.

It almost feels… nice.

...

“No vacancies?” you echo, staring blankly at the woman behind the front desk.

She offers an apologetic smile. “Unfortunately, with the festival this weekend, every place in town is booked solid. We had one cancellation earlier, but another couple just claimed it.”

You slowly turn to Rafe.

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Great. Love that.”

The desk clerk hesitates. “There is… one option.”

You perk up. “Yes. We’ll take it.”

Rafe shoots you a wary glance. “You don’t even know what it is.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s better than sleeping in the car.”

The woman shifts, clearly trying to phrase this delicately. “Well… it’s not exactly a room.”

Your excitement dims. “...What do you mean?”

She winces. “It’s a guest cottage.”

You blink. “Oh.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Rafe muses.

She quickly adds, “It’s also part of the romantic getaway package.”

Your stomach drops.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you mutter, already knowing where this is going. Talk about deja vu.

Rafe, to his credit, is at least trying to suppress his laughter. “You mean… like, a honeymoon suite?”

“More like a honeymoon cabin,” she corrects. “Cozy, intimate, fully stocked with all the romantic touches—”

“I don’t need the details,” you cut in.

“I kind of do,” Rafe counters.

You glare at him. He grins.

The woman hesitates. “So… will you take it?”

Rafe looks at you expectantly, like he’s waiting for you to reject it.

You want to. You really do. But at this point, you’re exhausted, your legs are sore, and the thought of sleeping in the car, especially with Rafe Cameron, is a level of misery you refuse to endure.

You exhale. “Fine.”

Rafe blinks. “Wait, seriously?”

You cross your arms. “Unless you want to sleep in the car?”

His smirk returns in full force. “Nah, sweetheart. If you want to shack up in a love nest with me, who am I to say no?”

You groan, rubbing your temples as the desk clerk hands over the key.

The moment you step inside, your jaw actually drops.

It’s adorable.

A rustic little log cabin, lit with soft golden lighting and warmed by a stone fireplace. The bed has plush white bedding with more rose petals scattered on top, and there’s an open balcony that overlooks a lake, reflecting the stars above.

“Oh my God,” you whisper. “It’s actually cute.”

Rafe whistles behind you. “Hate to say it, but I think this might be nicer than the first honeymoon suite.”

You slowly turn, narrowing your eyes. “Are you saying you enjoyed the first one?”

He shrugs, tossing his bag onto the bed. “I dunno. Kinda grew on me.”

“You’re insane.”

He just smirks, toeing off his shoes before flopping back onto the bed.

You groan. “Rafe.”

“Babe,” he says, mimicking your annoyed tone, “the sooner you accept that you love being stuck with me, the easier your life will be.”

You throw a pillow at him.

He catches it, because of course he does.

You decide to explore the cabin, mostly to ignore the fact that you’re about to share a bed with Rafe again.

The kitchen is surprisingly nice, stocked with chocolates and a bottle of wine (which Rafe immediately opens, because of course he does).

The balcony is probably your favorite part: warm summer air, twinkling lights, the lake stretching out beyond the trees.

You lean on the railing, inhaling the fresh air.

Rafe appears beside you, two wine glasses in hand. “Here.”

You take one, surprised when he doesn’t make a snarky comment about you accepting a drink from him. Instead, he clinks his glass against yours.

“To… surviving another night together,” he says, voice lighter than usual.

You snort. “Cheers to that.”

You both drink, settling into a comfortable silence as the stars shimmer above.

You don’t feel stranded.

You just feel calm.

Which, with Rafe Cameron, is kind of a miracle.

...

You stare at the bed. The one bed.

Again.

“What are the odds?” Rafe muses, standing beside you, wine glass still in hand.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Oh, I don’t know, Rafe. Maybe it’s because we keep getting shoved into romantic lodging situations like some kind of sick cosmic joke.”

He chuckles. “Could be worse.”

“How?” you ask flatly.

He hums, considering. “The bed could be heart-shaped again.”

You shudder at the memory of the first honeymoon suite. “Don’t even speak that into existence.”

Rafe just grins, stretching his arms over his head. His shirt lifts just slightly, and you hate that your eyes flicker downward for a second too long.

Noticing your hesitation, he smirks. “You taking the left or right?”

“I’m taking the whole thing,” you deadpan. “You can sleep on the floor.”

He snorts. “Yeah, okay, princess.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab your pajamas from your bag and retreat into the bathroom.

By the time you step back into the room, Rafe is already sprawled across the entire bed, hands behind his head like he owns the place.

You glare. “Seriously?”

He smirks. “What? You were gone forever. Thought you bailed.”

“It’s been five minutes.”

“Exactly.”

You huff, marching over and shoving his legs aside so you can climb in. He chuckles but lets you settle in, shifting onto his side to face you.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. The room is quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fireplace. The wine has left you warm, making the dim lighting feel even softer.

“…Thanks for staying,” Rafe says suddenly, voice quieter than usual.

You glance over, caught off guard. “What?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes. “Back at the lodge. You could’ve left with that Luke guy.”

You hesitate. “I almost did.”

He lets out a dry chuckle. “Yeah. I noticed.”

You shift onto your side, mirroring him. “Why did you look so upset?”

Rafe tenses, just slightly. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something sarcastic, but then stops. Closes it.

Then, finally:

“…Didn’t want to drive back alone.”

It’s quiet.

Your stomach does a weird little flip.

You swallow, gripping the edge of the blanket. “Oh.”

Rafe clears his throat. “I mean, who else would keep me entertained? Can’t exactly banter with myself.”

There it is. The deflection.

But it’s too late. You already heard the honesty in his voice before it.

Smiling softly, you nudge his foot under the covers. “You’d probably try.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Maybe.”

Silence settles again, but this time, it’s comfortable.

Eventually, your eyelids grow heavy. You barely register the way Rafe shifts closer, the warmth of him seeping through the covers.

And just before you drift off, you swear you hear him mumble:

“…Kinda glad you stayed.”

Your lips part, but sleep pulls you under before you can respond.

And in the soft glow of the fire, Rafe watches you for just a second longer.

Then, quietly, he closes his eyes too.

...

The scent of fresh coffee drifts through the air, pulling you from the depths of sleep. The warmth of the blankets is inviting, but something else is even warmer.

You blink groggily.

Rafe.

Still asleep. Still close. Still very much in your personal space.

At some point during the night, he must have shifted even closer. His arm is draped lazily over your waist, his face relaxed in a way you don’t usually see.

For a second, you let yourself take it in. The soft rise and fall of his chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his fingers twitch slightly in his sleep.

Then reality slams back into you.

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

You try to move—try being the key word—because the second you shift even an inch, Rafe groans and pulls you closer.

Your eyes widen. “Rafe.”

“Mmm,” he mutters, voice still thick with sleep. His grip tightens slightly, like you’re a pillow he refuses to let go of.

You freeze. “Rafe.”

Another groggy noise.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles against your hair.

Your face burns.

You push at his shoulder. “Get off.”

“Mm-mm.”

“Rafe.”

A beat.

Then, suddenly, he tenses.

You can feel the exact second he realizes what’s happening.

His eyes snap open. He pulls back, just slightly, blinking at you with a confused, half-awake expression. Then, very slowly, his gaze flickers down to where his arm is still around you.

He smirks.

“Oh, good morning, sweetheart,” he drawls, voice smug. “Sleep well?”

You shove him. Hard.

He laughs as he rolls onto his back, stretching like he wasn’t just wrapped around you like a human koala. “Don’t need coffee when I’ve got you to wake me up so rudely.”

“I will smother you with a pillow,” you grumble, sitting up and raking a hand through your hair.

He grins, propping himself up on his elbows. “Bet you wouldn’t have minded if I looked like that guy from the bakery yesterday.”

You throw a pillow at him.

Bakery guy didn't even hold a candle to a half-sleepy Rafe Cameron.

He catches it, still grinning. “Alright, alright, truce. But if you wanna cuddle again tonight, just say the word.”

You grab the other pillow and whack him with it.

After breakfast at the little café down the street (where Rafe insists on making a dramatic show of stealing bites from your plate), you wander into town, only to find it completely transformed.

Colorful stalls line the streets, people bustling around with baskets filled with fresh flowers, handmade crafts, and sweet-smelling pastries.

You blink. “Whoa.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow. “Did we walk into a Disney movie?”

You spot a sign near the entrance of the market, scrawled in elegant cursive. Annual Wildflower Festival – Welcome!

Grinning, you nudge Rafe’s arm. “Looks like we have plans today.”

He groans. “You want to be surrounded by pollen?”

“Yes.” You grab his wrist, tugging him toward the nearest stall. “Come on, grump.”

He mutters something about “allergic reactions” but follows anyway.

You weave through the crowd, admiring bouquets of vibrant wildflowers and stopping to sample homemade lavender honey. At one stall, an elderly woman waves you over, offering you a delicate flower crown made of soft blue forget-me-nots.

“For you, dear,” she says kindly. “And one for your boyfriend too.”

Before you can correct her, Rafe just smirks and leans down slightly. “Yeah, sweetheart. Put it on me.”

You glare at him but place the crown on his head anyway, pressing it down a little too firmly.

He tilts his head. “How do I look?”

“Ridiculous.”

He winks. “Good. That means we match.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart does a little flip anyway.

...

The drive back is slower this time. Not because of car trouble this time but because neither of you seem to be in any hurry. The windows are down, the late afternoon sun painting the world in gold, and the scent of wildflowers still lingers in the air, mixed with the crisp mountain breeze.

You stretch your legs out, sighing dramatically. “If I never have to trek down a winding road in the middle of nowhere again, it’ll be too soon.”

Rafe snorts, flicking his blinker on as he pulls onto the highway. “Oh, come on. You loved it.”

You turn your head to glare at him. “I tolerated it.”

He hums, like he doesn’t believe you. “You didn’t complain that much.”

“That’s because I was too busy wondering if we’d end up as one of those missing persons cases.”

He glances over, smirking. “Yeah? And who was it that said, ‘Okay, fine, maybe this is kind of nice’ when we stopped at that overlook?”

Your jaw drops. “I did not say that.”

“Oh, you definitely did.”

“You’re misremembering.”

“Sure, sweetheart.” He adjusts his grip on the wheel, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “Next time, I’m taking the ride back with someone else.”

“Next time?”

You freeze.

Damn it.

Rafe doesn’t say anything at first, just drums his fingers against the steering wheel, eyes on the road. But then, softly, almost teasingly, he adds, “Guess that means you didn’t hate it that much.”

You don’t answer.

You don’t want to answer, because he’s right, and if you say it out loud, it’ll mean something more than just a banter-filled road trip gone wrong.

Instead, you reach over, stealing the sunglasses hooked onto his shirt and sliding them on like they’re yours.

Rafe makes an affronted noise. “Seriously?”

“Consider it payment for keeping me alive.”

He grumbles something under his breath but doesn’t actually take them back. Instead, he glances over at you, at the oversized frames sitting just a little too big on your face, and shakes his head with a barely-there smile.

And just like that, the silence settles again. But it’s not uncomfortable. It’s not filled with things left unsaid.

It’s just easy.

And as the car rolls on, the sun dipping lower behind the mountains, you realize something.

You kind of don’t want the drive to end.

Taglist: @drewstarkeyslover, @honeybee270, @melsbels-zip, @rafeycameronsgf, @vanessa-rafesgirl, @amel1ee, @magicalflowerstranger, @lilithblackkk, @starkeyxcameron, @simp4f1, @wtfdudesblog, @f3rnlee, @dinnodallas, @jjasmiineee, @drewrry, @lmaolmaos, @mattyskies, @yourmomdotcom42069, @chillgal135, @scorpiosaintt

(tagged everyone asking abt a pt 2) <3

[synthetickitsune]

Cozy and Comfy ✧ l.jh

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x gn!reader Genre: fluff Summary: Jihoon doesn’t understand why you like lying on top of him so much no matter how many times you explain. To be honest he isn't sure why he misses it when you suddenly stop but he'll get to the bottom of the mystery. Word count: 3.5k A/N: it's soft hours for woozi rn.

There are a few things Jihoon values above all else. Some of these things are his privacy and personal space - understandably so, after living and spending most of his time with twelve other guys for a significant part of his life.

However, this is his private time now and even though he might not be the biggest fan of physical affection, his hand cradles your head to his chest. His other hand is on the small of your back to reassure you he’s there. 

You seem most satisfied like this, seeking out this exact position night after night whenever he comes home to you. He doesn’t mind, if he’s being completely transparent - he likes it too. This sort of intimacy that seems to help him recharge instead of draining him further. He wonders if it’s going to be the same once you live together, wonders if he’ll mind if this little ritual stops.

Jihoon remembers the beginning, when you shyly proposed the idea and he let you do whatever you wanted because he was curious. There was a wide smile on your face when you crawled between his legs and settled almost fully on top of him. You were adorable, gently rubbing your face against his chest. He teased you - are you a cat or what? He didn’t want you to get up, didn’t expect that you wouldn’t recognize the humor in his voice. Before he could say anything, his body reacted on its own to stop you. It felt even better when he was holding you, he discovered. And his touch was enough to let you know he wants you to stay right there.

And now here you are.

Today your hand is stretched slightly so you can play with his hair. It’s getting inconvenient at this length but he has to admit your attention makes it slightly better. He lets you mess with the tips and pull at them gently. He even allows you to loosely braid the strands you can reach. Maybe it’s that he’s already slowly drifting off, maybe it’s that he’s just in love.

He’d like to have more time with you, but the nights usually end like this - with him suddenly falling asleep before he can realize how tired he is and you waking him up so softly and gently he doesn’t mind it at all. It’s nice, if he’s honest. To have someone to trust, to have you slowly lead him to the bedroom. You look so sheepish after having to wake him up that it always feels like the first time you gave him the privilege to be led to your room. 

It’s the perfect way to spend the night. This way he gets to fall asleep next to you twice instead of just once.

Jihoon doesn’t understand why you like lying on top of him so much no matter how many times you explain. Not that he minds - he just can’t comprehend what you’re saying to him.

He doesn’t get your excited you’re so cozy and comfy. He gets that he’s warm, sure, or that you like hearing his heartbeat. He also likes it when you sometimes sneak your hand under his shirt and put it above his heart. Just as he’s fond of moments when nothing can help you relax but lying like this while you’re both naked, with nothing but a blanket covering you. Hell, it’s nice is fine too. But the rest of it? It’s just confusing.

What he also doesn’t understand, and what pretty much solves the question of whether he’d miss lying with you like this if you stopped doing it as often, is what’s been going on these past few days.

It’s not literally always that you lie on top of him, sometimes it’s too hot or you’re just not feeling as affectionate or one of you is in pain or sick. But none of this applies now. He knows this because it’s definitely not hot, he checked that you’re feeling fine, and you’re all over him otherwise. 

It’s just that you won’t take part in your little ritual. 

Last night you did for a bit but you were restless and squirming until you gave up and laid tucked into his side. Now, he’s not complaining about that - it also feels nice but it’s not exactly what he’s used to and what he started to look forward to each day that he’s spending with you.

On the fourth day he cracks and once he lies down, he opens his arms for you. Jihoon knows he’s cheating because you never say no if he explicitly asks for any type of affection. He figures there’s no harm, though, thinking that maybe you’re just feeling a little self conscious as you sometimes do. He sees the surprise on your face, feels reassured by the giddy laugh from your lips and how happily you take your place where you belong. He might hold you just a little tighter for a bit. Just maybe. He pretends he doesn’t know he’s doing it.

Yet even though everything seemed fine, like things returned to normal, they didn’t. You’re trying to hide it, but it’s impossible to mask your squirming when you’re literally on top of him.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, his brows furrowed into a concerned frown. Are you feeling uncomfortable with the position all of a sudden? Are you hurt? He trusts you to say something if that was the case, but maybe you needed some encouragement? Needed him to show that he cares? His hold loses some of its strength.

“Yeah, why?” you turn your head to look at him. To your credit, you keep lying on him, and even if your voice is nothing but curious, he feels like you’re calling him out. Daring him to say he misses the affection he sometimes playfully teases you about. He contemplates for a moment before he decides that he trusts you. Really trusts you. And he’s… worried.

He might not understand what you mean by him being cozy and comfy to lay on but he knows it’s what he wants to be. He doesn’t think anything about him changed, so he wonders if maybe he did something that changed your perception of him. He licks his lips, ready, and then groans nonetheless. He knows you won’t tell anyone, but still…

“It’s just, uh, you don’t seem comfortable and I don’t know, did something happen? Did I do something?”

His hand moves from the back of your head to your face, gently caressing your face with his fingers. Did you maybe just feel uncomfortable sharing whatever is the issue with him? He doesn’t know why you’d feel that way, but he’s ready to do whatever he needs to if it means getting your trust back.

“Hey, Jihoon,” you call his name softly, as if you knew just what was going on in his head. You scoot closer to him, a movement which naturally makes him curl an arm around your waist. “It’s nothing. It’s really nothing.”

“Yeah?” he asks and immediately cringes at how defensive he sounds, “Sorry.”

You smile and pull away, slowly moving to straddle him once he lets you. Soon you guide his hands back to your waist. 

“Have you started working out more?” you ask and it makes the frown on Jihoon’s face deepen.

“No, I don’t think so,” he shrugs. If anything, it was a struggle to fit the work outs into his schedule. He couldn’t have more of them if he wanted to. “Why? Do you think I should - or should work out less?”

“No, not at all,” you’re quick to reassure him, “It’s just that your body is, uhm, harder lately.”

Your voice gets weaker towards the end, but not enough that he would have trouble hearing you, although he can’t really imagine what you mean. 

“Explain?” he asks, blinking a couple times. You groan, leaning down to hide your face in his shoulder.

“It’s just that, well, usually you’re kind of soft and comfortable? Like not soft soft but just, I don’t know, nice to lay on,” you rush with the explanation but that’s okay - so far Jihoon understands nothing anyway, “But lately you’re so hard - your body, I mean. Like you’re turning into a rock or something. Are you sure you’re not overdoing it at the gym?”

It’s a bit too much information that he doesn’t know what to do with. Again, he’s not sure what you mean exactly, so he stares at you for a second or two before he finally speaks up.

“We started adding more weights recently, so maybe,” he shrugs.

“And you didn’t notice something is different?” you ask, rising from your hiding spot. You seem confused - just as confused as he is.

“Well it’s not like I poke myself to know what my body feels like, y/n,” he deadpans, “I’m more sore but something hurts all the time, so I can’t say I noticed much of a difference.”

He watches as your expression morphs into one of concern and he’s so grateful for his quick reflexes that allow him to pull you down before you can get up from his lap. “What’s wrong?”

“You tell me when it hurts, right?” you ask, worrying your lip between your teeth. He smiles softly and nods. He’s glad when you relax, but he keeps his hands on your hips anyway. “You rest enough, right?”

He resists rolling his eyes and just confirms instead. “You know I have to take care of my body if I want to do this for a long time - and that includes rest.”

“And eating proper meals,” you remind him. He chuckles, agreeing with you easily. “If you’re short on time and need a meal quickly just let me know.”

He smiles, bringing one of your hands to his lips and kisses the back of your hand. He’s grateful for you, truly. But he can’t help but wonder if you know how much you’re actually doing for him. If you’re aware even all the little things add up.

“I appreciate that, but you know I can just order-” 

Before he can finish the sentence, there’s a finger pressed against his lips. He doesn’t protest upon seeing the determination in your eyes. “You know what I want to say, right?”

“Of course,” he sighs, his lips still turned up, “And you know I enjoy when you cook for me.”

The way you beam at him one would think he’s never told you before. But he did. Every time. Because it was true and the least he could do.

It gets quiet for a while, but Jihoon’s happy enough to know that nothing’s wrong. He knows his overworked muscles will eventually get stronger and heal, returning to their original consistency that was apparently soft but not soft soft. There’s always a chance that you’ll get over your fondness for this particular position, but that’s something only time will tell. For what it’s worth in the eyes of fate, he hopes you never will.

With the crisis over, his body starts to feel the day again. As if all the aches simply hid to make room for his insecurity and only now started to come back once the air cleared. He tries to push back the yawn, but fails yet again. He hears you shake your head, well familiar with the sight. He holds you tighter before you can think about leaving.

“We can move to bed, you’ll fall asleep soon anyway,” you rub your hands over his chest, but Jihoon is nothing if not stubborn. So despite his aching body, he flips you sideways and traps you between his body and the edge of the couch. He takes more pride than he probably should from the fact that you cling to him despite his not soft body. He’s holding you. He wouldn’t let you fall. 

“In a while, I like this thing we have,” he mumbles, taking advantage of your face still buried in his chest where you can’t see the longing in his eyes.

You know it’s a lost fight anyway, and it’s not hard to oblige when the prize is being held by Jihoon and relaxing watching whatever you put on. He always tells you that the pillows are more comfortable than him, but you’re pretty sure you saw him frowning while you took one to put under your head.

You settle into a more comfortable position with your back against his chest and his arm loosely thrown over your waist. You can’t even remember the last time you spooned like this. It’s nice. Regardless, you miss your usual position. It allows you to watch him once he falls asleep, and his heartbeat is nicer under your palm or your ear instead of against your spine.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel as his breathing evens out against your neck. His face is buried in your hair and you don’t understand how that can be comfortable. You won’t complain, though, when you are so perfectly surrounded by his warmth. You feel your own eyes becoming heavy. You’re actually looking forward to your bed, but you don’t have the heart to wake up Jihoon yet. It’s always a gamble, trying to allow him to sleep for as long as you can without falling asleep yourself, but you have yet to lose. You are responsible for his comfort, after all. And that’s a job you do best.

Things get back to how they were eventually. Jihoon’s body regenerated enough that it’s returned to the cozy state now, even though he still has some reservations regarding the label. One day you went as far as to call his biceps squishy, which he has yet to process. 

Overall, though, things are peaceful.

Just as he wanted.

Only today was tough. Really tough.

One of those days he’s so grateful he could cry for taxis being a thing. He doesn’t know how he’d make it home otherwise and still he managed to doze off in the car. At least he’s familiar enough with the route to your apartment that he can manage it even half asleep. It’s a small miracle he doesn’t stumble and fall on the stairs.

You on the other hand think it’s a miracle he’s made it this far without passing out cold.

The moment you opened the door - or more precisely the moment you had to open the door you knew something was wrong. If your boyfriend can’t even unlock the door himself, something is very wrong.

It’s heartbreaking to see him like this, but at least he’s out of it enough not to mind your concerned gaze on him as he shoos you away so he can take off his shoes. A herculean task it seems because it takes him forever. You’re close to telling him to just come in anyway when he pulls them off at the last second.

You help him straighten up under the guise of taking off his jacket - something he usually doesn’t allow either, but it’s not wildly off limits. Neither is hugging him as a greeting. If you cling to him a little to help him to the bedroom, that’s between you and the sky above because you believe he falls asleep on you for a minute there. A belief that comes concerningly close to being the truth when he blinks and looks around the room as if he had no idea where he is.

“This is the bedroom,” he slurs the words together, but at least you know he’s not sleepwalking yet.

“Yeah - look at you, Jihoon. Where else do you think we should be?” you chide, gently. He can be moody when he’s tired, though you think he’s not in a state where his brain is capable of processing something as complex as a mood.

Instead of answering, he nods in the vague direction of the living room. You have half a mind to scold him, but then think better of it. Another thing about tired Jihoon is that he’s even more stubborn. 

“Okay, sure, we can go there, but wash up first, hm?” you instruct him and turn to walk away when he grabs your wrist. His hand falls limply back down, but it achieves what he wanted.

“Why? I’ll do it later,” he argues, frown pulling at his features.

“You won’t, love, and we both know it. Now, you can either wash up yourself while I heat up some food, or I can help you and then get you the food, so?” 

One more thing about Jihoon is that he’s infuriatingly determined to take care of himself without relying on others. Especially when it comes to you.

He’s getting better though. You see it when his lips pout slightly but he still gets up and heads to the bathroom.

You take that as your sign to head to the kitchen to warm up the soup you made earlier. It’s not much, but you hope he’ll be stronger later and you’ll manage to persuade him to eat a proper meal. For now, though, the soup will have to do. You don’t think he would manage anything requiring him to put actual effort into eating.

Just as you begin pouring the warm substance into a bowl, you hear footsteps in the living room. You follow their trail across the room in your head and then breathe a sigh of relief at the soft thud where the couch should be. You carry the soup over, not too hot, just the right temperature to eat.

Jihoon is already sitting there, although it looks like he’d much rather fall sideways and sleep. You hand him the bowl carefully, however you never get to give him the spoon as he just drinks the liquid straight from the bowl. You sigh, but leave him to it and carry the utensil back to the kitchen. He’s done with the soup when you return, but he looks so miserable that you decide to put the dirty dish further away on the table and deal with it later. 

You sit down next to him but don’t stay put for too long, lying down and opening your arms for him. He looks at you with pure confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“Come on,” you sigh, motioning for him to lay down. He looks hesitant, if a bit more awake.

“I’m heavy,” he counters.

“Weighted blanket. Stop fighting and just lay down. I’ll push you off if it’s too much,” you raise your brows at him in a clear challenge. He might be more stubborn, but you’d win this fight since you wouldn’t fall asleep halfway through it. He sighs, grumbling something unintelligible under his breath. He does move though, and you make space for him between your legs, helping him settle over your body. All that working out and yet he struggles to hold himself above you, his body shaking with the effort.

“It’s alright, lie down,” you coax him, slowly. He all but melts over you once your bodies touch, like butter on a warm toast. He looks so comfortable you feel a little bad for guiding him to a more comfortable position with his head on your chest. It’s for him to lay comfortably, of course, but it also gives you easy access to his hair. 

First you smooth any stray hair away from his face, maybe taking just a second to caress his skin while he allows the affection. Your fingers glide through the locks without any trouble. Again and again you brush your fingers through them, enjoying the texture, scratching across his scalp like you know he likes. You think how much you’ll miss this when he cuts his hair short again.

“Stop, I’ll fall asleep,” he murmurs, words barely recognizable, “I haven’t asked about your day yet.”

You sigh - try to, really hard you try, but fail harder. You just laugh, in love. 

“It wasn’t anything special,” you assure him, “There’s always later if you’re curious.”

You think he tries to nod, a little jerk of his head against your chest. He presses his face further into your chest, his ear right above your heart. You know the feeling well, holding your breath - hoping. Hoping he’ll find the same comfort in you as you find in him.

“It’s really nice,” he more so breathes than whispers. And soon enough, his breathing slows down and evens out, his body getting heavier like a blanket pushing you into the cushions of the couch.

You smile for a second, and then return to playing with his hair.

This is what home should feel like, you decide. Like the trust he puts in you by letting his guard down, like the unconditional love he shows you by always holding you while he falls asleep - but also like the safety in knowing there will be a new day and nothing will change.

You’ll still have each other.

[hwallazia]

ANT!FRAGILE – 최산

⋆ synopsis. you pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.

pairing. idol bf! san & fem!reader

taglist. @bro-atz @purplenimsicle | apply to join my taglist ♡

wc. 3,1k

warnings. unprotected sex (wrap before tap!), bath sex, slight degradation? (reader’s referred as “dumb girl” once), dirty talk, softdom!san, sub!reader, dacryphilia?, slight overstimulation, hickeys, size difference, bulge kink, cow girl position, petnames (princess, love, darling & more), teasing, squirt, suggestive language (yn tells wooyoung to kill himself, jokingly! they’re two very friendly friends ;)), coachella san (as a warning itself, yes).

nic’s notes ⋆ this took way too long for no reason at all (⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠;⁠) but here it is! my brain rot of coachella san (ofc with teeth rotting fluff at the end bc i’m the one writing it) also, lowercase is intentional!

you should’ve seen it coming after you found out that your boyfriend, san, would be performing at an event as important as coachella. not that you were complaining though.

you knew how much your boyfriend loves attention, how much it turned him on to hear the fans scream for him, and how the cameras adjust their lens to zoom in on his face or his toned muscles from dancing and moving from side to side. there were constant conversations in which san would ask you “should i wear this?”, “if i unbutton a couple of buttons will i get a reaction from atiny?” of course, you’d tell him dismissively that no matter what he does, he’d always get a reaction from everyone, from you especially.

but taking off his shirt in the middle of a concert? really?

you had already seen him without clothes on the upper part of his body, of course, —and also without clothes down there, but let’s omit details—. the thing here’s that you knew how cautious he was with his clothing, always trying to cover what was most important. but this surprised you, and immensely.

it is, in fact, a sight for sore eyes. but a certain level of jealousy invaded your body; you liked to think that you were the only one with the privilege of seeing his well-worked body. but now millions of people and locals would have photos and videos of your shirtless boyfriend on stage. you definitely couldn’t accept it, even though the entire internet already knows exactly what ateez’s choi san looks like underneath the expensive fabric that covers him at concerts.

you were fully aware that this was his job, and that he was paid for it, but did it really have to be him? why not any other member? maybe seonghwa? or mingi! what about him? he also has a pretty active and... desperate fanbase. it was obvious that more than one fan would pay to get, at least, a glimpse of his abs. so, with so many options, why was your boyfriend the exposed person?

but of course you couldn’t show up in his dressing room with a jealous expression clearly decorating your face, you had to act like the sweet and tender girlfriend you were and put jealousy aside for a moment. your boyfriend had just finished performing on a dream stage for any artist, you couldn’t ruin his night because of a little scene.

you weren’t a jealous or toxic lover; you were a conservative one. you liked knowing that you were special to san and you expected exclusivity from him; consequently, he would receive the same treatment. but you should’ve expected it when you started dating choi san. he’s an idol and that's his job: to cause, in any way, the attention of the fans which, consequently, would keep them afloat or flying through the charts.

but, that was an indelible feature of yours. therefore, in some way, you would make it noticeable.

you hit your knuckles a few times, with moderate intensity, against the modern metallic door decorated by a gold star that highlighted your boyfriend’s band name. you watched as the handle turned slightly and opened the door wide, managing to discover wooyoung with a foaming glass of champagne that found its rest in the palm of her hand. behind his figure, you could see mingi sitting on a noticeably comfortable leather couch next to yunho, both of them clinking their glasses together with a clink; yeosang and seonghwa taking a selfie in the mirror and jongho and hongjoong talking animatedly, perhaps about the upcoming scenarios you thought.

“what the hell are you doing here?” wooyoung said, looking at you confusingly. you narrowed your eyes slightly at his quick lack of courtesy.

“good night to you too, wooyoung. you were incredible out there.” you replied sarcastically, hoping he would finally greet you properly.

“oh thank you so much. but seriously, what are you doing here?” he asked once again.

“what do you mean what am i doing here? i came to congratulate y’all for the show because you totally killed it. all the atiny around me went absolutely feral because of you guys.” you praised, and wooyoung grinned nicely. jongho and hongjoong came up behind him, intrusively joining the conversation.

“well thank you very much, yn.” jongho responded and you gave him your purest smile, truly meaning your words.

“but i also came here to congratulate my boyfriend personally?” you interrogated since his figure wasn’t appearing in your visual field.

“that’s why i was asking! damn, you really don’t listen." wooyoung sentenced, his gaze being comparable to that of a mother scolding her daughter. “as soon as the concert was over, he changed and went to the hotel to see you. he thought you’d be there.”

“but i don’t have a ride home, and my phone died” you explained, doe-eyed as you waited for wooyoung, or any of the boys, to take the hint and quickly take you to the hotel to your boyfriend.

“you could just ask for it, you know?” wooyoung tsked, but finally surrendered to your big, brown eyes with a sigh. “give me two seconds to look for the car keys. i’ll take you there.”

and that’s what he did as fast as lighting since he knew they’d only have that night all for themselves before flying back out to korea. the next day would be full of promotion of their songs to the locals and their stage in coachella, so san wouldn’t be able to even spend a bit of his day with you. 

during the ride to the hotel, wooyoung spoke, “hey just don’t tire him out since we have quite the amount of work to do tomorrow.”

“you know, you could say something like ‘have a nice time together’, ‘take care of him’, ‘call me if you need anything-” before you could continue, he interrupted you briskly. 

“oh hell no. the both of you are responsible adults who know how to take care of themselves without someone else’s help so don’t even try to bother me tonight because i’m exhausted as shit.” he confessed, hands adjusting their position on the steering wheel when cornering.

“oh so now you’re saying i’m a burden?” you asked ironically, knowing wooyoung would catch it was only a joke.

“oh you do know how to think!” he smiled looking away from the road for a bit to lock gazes with you. wrinkles decorated the corner of your eyes as you closed them a little.

“go kill yourself.” you huffed.

“shut up, you love me,” his puckering lips sent a flying kiss to you. he stopped his words briefly, “actually you kind of have to, since i’m taking you with your beloved boyfriend.”

“touché” you agreed. 

the ride to the hotel was quick and calm since you were talking and joking animatedly with wooyoung. and when you least expected it, the car stopped moving. consequently, you turned to look out through your window, yellow lights, and gold decorations hurting your eyes with how beaming they looked, even when it was one in the morning.

“here we are.” wooyoung turned to look at you, his sincere eyes transmitting warmth, “remember what i told you-”

“yeah, i got it mom,” you answered, rolling your eyes vexingly. the man gave you an annoying gaze, so you replied, “what? you’re acting as if you were my mother! chill out, for fuck’s sake. as you said, both of us are responsible adults who know how to take care of ourselves.” you used his own words as a weapon to defend yourself against his exaggerated concern.

“whatever. just go,” he unlocked the car’s door so you could get out of the car once you finished your little conversation. “he’s been a pain in the ass lately because he hasn’t had time to see you.”

“imma get going then,” your hand approached the car door handle and finally opened it and got out of the vehicle. “thank you, woo. i owe you one.”

“you owe me way too many to count ’em” wooyoung wheezed. “but yeah, we’ll add it to the list.” he gave you one final smile, which you reciprocated sweetly.

you finally closed the door and watched wooyoung make his way back to where coachella was taking place, he’d probably go to enjoy the rest of the night’s stages with his members. you genuinely wished for him to do well and arrive with the boys safely, but now you had something more important to do: pamper your successful boyfriend after his dream night at coachella.

after you saw wooyoung getting lost on the dark LA highway, you turned around and ran towards the hotel to get into the elevator and quickly dial the floor of your boyfriend’s room.

once there, before your brain could think about it, your legs moved on their own and guided you recklessly toward the door. you hit your knuckles against it a few times, but there was no response.

“sannie? it’s yn. are you there?” you mutter softly against the door frame. another moment of silence came in response.

remembering your boyfriend had given you the key card, you pulled it out of your coat and faced it against the handle. after a soft peep sounded, you opened the door. just to be greeted with a dim-lighted room.

you wandered around the room, looking carefully at the floor so as not to bump your feet against any furniture or step on any item of clothing that, perhaps in a hurry, had been forgotten on the carpeted floor. you kept repeating your boyfriend’s name until the silence stunned you. the dazzling city lights illuminating what the poor little lamp that rested on the nightstand could not illuminate.

suddenly everything went silent. until you heard, in the back of your head, a faded tune. you quickly recognized the melody and started humming the song, the lyrics of the weeknd’s starboy being the only thing you could think about.

once again, you knocked a few times on the door, this time receiving a response from the other side. a dull “who is it?” was heard. “it’s me, love. yn.” you replied.

“oh, babe! come in!” he said happily, you could imagine the adorable smile drawn on his lips.

you turned the handle gently. and lord, didn’t the scenery you were greeted with turned you on.

your boyfriend’s toned body resting on the bathtub, lavender-scented bubbles covering most of it, his nipples being exposed to the fresh bathroom air that would soon turn into a heavier one, and his arms resting on each side of the tub. a serene, yet excited, expression decorating your boyfriend’s gaze.

“hi, beautiful,” he welcomed you. his eyes becoming crescent moons due to the effect of his beaming smile.

“there they are, those beautiful eyes i love so much,” you mumbled, walking right next to him to caress his left cheek soothingly. “how’re you feeling, champ?”

“alive as fuck,” both of you giggled at his response, your loving gaze locking with his for a moment of comfortable silence. suddenly you felt his hand fondling yours.

“mind joining me here?” his sharp eyes turning darker than they already were as they looked at you. fortunately for your boyfriend, you were willing to give him the moon and the stars that night.

you still can’t explain how you ended up on top of san, the water covering up to your navels, while he moved his thumb masterfully over your clit and his fingers repeatedly entered your cunt. his phalanges stretched you deliciously, causing several moans and moans from you.

“is that the spot, sweetheart? you're shaking so much.” his voice was hoarse and deep as the ocean, causing dizziness to affect your common sense.

“y-yes, don’t stop, please- ahh! ngh...” you could barely answer.

“sorry, love.” he announced before stopping his movements, drawing a annoyed, pathetic whine from your swollen lips. before you could insult him, he spoke first. “’wanna feel your tight cunt cumming around me, pretty.” during his brief pause, a pitiful cry from you was heard. “will you let me?”

“yes!” you answered desperately, “y...yes, i’m all yours, sannie. use me.”

san let out deep groan, which resonated inside your ears and made your heart jump out of your ribcage for a second. you rapidly adjusted yourself so you could reach the height of his crotch and massage his veiny, prominent erection, then align it to your entrance.

“go down slowly, don’t want my pretty girl to break.” he expressed, his soft, low voice driving you insane. still, you looked at him with cocked eyebrows.

“break? hah. surely, coachella drove your ego up to the clouds.” your eyes stabbing daggers into his. his hands found a home on your hips, slightly drawing them down to insert his cock inside you. your hand landing on his bare chest stopping his every move.

“nah. it’s just that you’re kind of fragile after all.”

you knew he was messing with you, provoking you. if there was one thing he always reminded you of, it was how strong, determined, and passionate you were, and it was one of the many features that made him fall deeply in love with you.

“let’s see who’s the fragile one here” you went down without warning on his cock, surprisingly touching your cervix all at once. a moan was snatched from both of you. your shaking body began to move carefully up and down him.

“f-fuck, yn- mm,” you heard a strangled moan from your lover, his lower lip was caught in between his teeth.

“f-fragile? that’s y...your- ah! your shit ass cock.” you manage to respond, notoriously provoking him.

“i don’t think it’s a shit ass cock, beautiful- ngh.” he panted, “just look how full you are.” he held your hand delicately despite the momentary brutality and placed it over your belly, a small lump formed there, “full of me, and my shit ass cock.” san breathed, kissing your collarbone, leaving cute lovebites in it. “you cry and beg for it every single night, hun. what does that have to say about you, hm?” a pitiful whine left your lips, demonstrating san that you were truly incapable of formulating coherent words. you were just too fucked out.

“well, lemme tell you,” he continued. “you’re just a dumb girl who needs to be fucked by a big fucking cock, otherwise, you don’t stop whining.” he said profoundly, his voice stimulating all your senses at once as he absolutely ravished you. “isn’t that right, princess?”

“i- ah! sannie, pleeease.” you blubbered, your eyes shedding the most precious tears.

“i asked you a question, darling. and i expect you to answer.” he sentenced sternly, grabbing your jaw and mushing your cheeks together. a pout was, therefore, formed on your lips.

“yes! yesyesyes, you’re right. i just need and think about being fucked by your big fucking cock-” you acknowledged, immersed and lost in the feeling, feeling like he was fucking you just like the first time.

“you’re such a cutie when you whine for me.” he chuckled while you, on the other hand, couldn’t hold back your screams anymore. his eyes stuck to your bouncing breasts, and your parted lips.

“what happened, princess? is it too much?” he cooed at you, looking at you adoringly, his eyes beaming at the sight of you.

“n-no,” you tried with all your might not to stumble over your words, but it was almost impossible since your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion of your boyfriend's cock into your tight cunt.

“no? let’s see if it is now,”

your bastard boyfriend directed his hand toward your vagina, his ring finger and middle finger deliciously touched your clit. san watched as you exploded inside, his cock was bringing you closer to an abysmal orgasm that you doubted you could withstand, but you were a masochist, and despite all of this, you continued to go up and down on his cock sloppily.

“san! i’m s-so close- fuck!” your frowned eyebrows, reddened cheeks, swollen lips, and arched back made san float, he couldn’t worship you more than he already did at that moment. he was internally so grateful that you were his. only his to kiss, to hug, to fuck, and to adore.

you had had many guys behind you in the past, and they all promised the same thing: ‘i promise you the moon and the stars’, but absolutely none of them reached the level that choi san reached, who promised and delivered to make you see the stars, the moon and– fuck, he made you see the entire milky way every time you were with him.

“go on, babe. let it out for me, i got you,” he hid his face in the crook of your neck when you slowed down bouncing, and then he lifted it up. his lips brushed your neck, a position which he took advantage of to lick and suck on the side of it, adorning it with some nice and new hickeys next to the ones he did some moments ago.

san did everything he could to give you a good orgasm, a strong one, but pleasant. he loved seeing your expression as you had reached the peak of pleasure, a squirt erupted between your bodies, causing strangled moans to come from both mouths. your walls became tighter, squeezing out every drop of cum held in san’s hard cock. you felt how a strip of that viscous, white essence warmed your insides even more. the feeling even being comfortable in some kind of way.

“see? i didn’t break, idiot. hah,” you huffed out a sigh, looking at that beautiful face that you would never get tired of.

“mhm, you’re always so strong and beautiful. aren’t you, my love?” he reacted breathlessly as he stroked your cheek, as if it were the finest diamond.

“always, and only for you,” you wrinkled your nose as you looked at him foolishly in love.

you turned and felt stupid every time you were around this man, but what could you say? you weren’t complaining at all.

that man was capable of loving you in all your facets, in all your states and moments.

you were also grateful that choi san was yours, and solely yours.

“well, big boy,” you started, settling into his chest with him still inside you, keeping you warm, “i’m very proud of you and your achievements, love. you really brought home the trophy.”

“actually, you came here all by yourself.” he flirted, a cocky smile causing a giggle to ring inside your ribcage. “hm. thank you, princess. but the actual trophy is you and will always be you.”

you hid your face with your hands, splashing a little water unintentionally, “don’t start being all mushy, you softie. i’m gonna cry otherwise,”

he laughed, his voice causing your skin to vibrate lightly. “okay okay. wanna finally wash up?”

“can we just... stay like this? just for a bit,” you closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth your boyfriend provided you.

“of course, princess. whatever you want,” he held you in his arms safely, making you sleepy. two minutes of silence filled with tranquility and love passed, until san started talking, “remember you’re always my trophy.” he muttered lowly with his honey-dripping voice.

“babe,”

“hm?”

“shut up.”

| masterlist

[notlongtolove]

your hand in my hand

after derek’s less-than-intellectual speech about how he was not spending four uninterrupted hours on a train with reid, hotch’s solution was to pair you with spencer instead. and between your notorious driving and spencer’s—well, spencer’s worse driving, the only logical option was the train.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff

content: mutual pining spencer and bau!reader embark on a 4 hour train ride and share some cute moments over a wordsearch book

word count: 3.1k

note: finished finals n hopped on a flight n came back n wrote this on 4 hours of sleep jst bc i couldn't get the idea of a train ride out of my head...

a line: The sight of your bag in his hand was one you could get used to. It was a sight that made you think of Sunday mornings and shared coffee mugs.

It’s beautiful out there— fields, little lakes and winter trees in February sunlight, every car park a shining mosaic. Long radiant minutes, your hand in my hand, still warm, still warm. -wendy cope

“I still think this is a terrible idea.”

“It’s only a four-hour train ride.”

“Yeah, but it could’ve been a two-hour drive.”

“Two? It’s three at the minimum. Danville is—”

“Not if I’m driving,” you smirk. 

“And that is exactly why I told Hotch I would not be getting in a car with you.”

Hotch had assigned you and Spencer to check out a secondary lead while the rest of the team travelled out to work a case. After Derek’s less-than-intellectual speech about how he was not spending four uninterrupted hours on a train with Reid, Hotch’s solution was to pair you with Spencer instead. And between your notorious driving and Spencer’s—well, Spencer’s worse driving, the only logical option was the train.

Not that it stopped Spencer from pointing out every possible flaw in your driving on the way to the station.

“I’m not that bad, I swear!” you had protested, rolling your eyes.

“You got two speeding tickets in the last month.”

“One month,” Garcia had chimed in over the phone. “And actually, technically, it’s three tickets.”

You groaned. “The third one didn’t count! The cop was just—”

“And don’t even get me started on your sense of direction,” Spencer mumbled. 

“Pretty girl, I love you, but I’d get in a car with Reid before you, and that’s saying a lot,” Morgan’s voice rang out from over the line.

“Thank you!—Wait, hey!” Spencer spluttered.

By the time you make it to the station, its clear that your BAU Jet Privileges had not prepared you for public transportation. “Wheels up in thirty” definitely did not translate to “trains only leave when you’re ready.”

“Can’t we just tell them we’re, like, important or something?” you grumbled, stretching to peek over the crowd in front of you.

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Spencer muttered, clutching his satchel as he scanned the line. His brow furrowed in that nervous way you’ve come to recognize, the one he always got when cases ran too close to the wire or people hovered just a little too close in his personal space.

As they announced the final boarding call over the station’s intercom, Spencer’s anxiety ramped up, practically vibrating beside you. You, of course, were less concerned. “Relax,” you teased, nudging him. “What are they gonna do, leave without us?”

“Yes,” Spencer snapped. “That’s actually exactly what they’re going to do.”

When a harried-looking attendant opened a new line to speed things up, Spencer grabbed your bag—“God, what is in here?”—and marched you both toward the front of the queue.

“You two together?” she asked, as she gestured between the two of you.

“Oh, uh, no—just friends,” Spencer stammered, color rising in his cheeks.

She blinked at him. 

“Spence, she’s referring to our tickets.”

“Oh! Right, right.” He fumbled with his pocket as you handed yours over, suppressing a grin.

Flustered Spencer was your favorite Spencer. Of course, you’d never admit it out loud, but there was something endlessly endearing about seeing him off-balance, especially if you were the cause. Not the encyclopedia, not the profiler, just Spencer. It was a rare glimpse into the version of him you cherished most. The Spencer who remembered your coffee order, who stayed up with you in hotel lobbies when you’ve had one too many said cups of coffee, who once held your hand for 15 whole minutes after you found a kid’s drawing in a victim’s room and couldn’t keep it together.

It was also a little dangerous. Not in the same way your driving was dangerous (though Spencer might argue otherwise), but in the way where you sometimes wondered if you’d crossed some invisible line. If the lingering hugs and casual touches that weren’t exactly casual meant more than either of you were willing to say. But those were dangerous thoughts, ones best left in the quiet recesses of your mind. So you pushed them aside, as you always did, and focused on the here and now.

The here and now being Spencer, still blushing faintly as he grabbed your bag and adjusted it over his shoulder, his brow furrowed with some internal muttering about how much you packed. When the attendant waved you through with a tired smile and Spencer started making a beeline for your platform with your bag in tow, you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Thanks, partner,” you teased, earning a glare that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Just get on the train,” he grumbled, turning away before you could see the corners of his lips twitch upward.

The two of you made your way through the carriages after a brief but spirited debate about whether to walk outside along the platform to reach your assigned car or board the train immediately and navigate through it. Predictably, Spencer had won, and now you were squeezing past narrow aisles and weaving through clusters of passengers with a litany of “Excuse me,” “I’m so sorry,” and even a “I didn’t mean to step on your foot sir,” from you.

By the time you finally reached your carriage, the train had already started moving. Spencer shot you a pointed “I told you so” look that made you roll your eyes as you flopped into your seat. Spencer wrinkled his nose as he lowered himself hesitantly into the seat beside yours, clearly doing his best not to make contact with any of the surfaces he deemed less than pristine. His discomfort was almost palpable, the slight twitch of his fingers betraying his thoughts. Public transport wasn’t exactly his favorite—as he’d once explained in great detail, something about microbial colonies on handrails and seats. You leaned back, watching as he tried to situate himself, his satchel perched protectively on his lap like it might shield him from the horrors of public commuting.

“So,” you said, hoping to distract him, “what joys of reading did you bring along for this glorious journey?”

Spencer glanced at you, then sighed, reaching into his bag. “The Sign of Four,” he said, taking out a well-loved copy of the Sherlock Holmes novel.

“Ooh, a classic,” you replied with an approving nod.

“And you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he settled into the question, visibly relaxing, if only a little. His fingers smoothed the corner of his book, but his eyes stayed on you, curious.

You grinned, the kind of grin that promised trouble—or at least something Spencer would find mildly exasperating. Reaching into your bag, you dug through the chaos of receipts, snacks, and whatever else you’d deemed necessary for a four-hour train ride.

“You’re not going to watch something on your phone again are you?” Spencer said, his tone laced with a mix of exasperation and earnest concern. “You do realize that watching something on a phone during a train ride is fundamentally different from doing so on a jet, right?"

“Hold your horses,” you said, your tone light and teasing. “It’s in here somewhere.”

Spencer continued, "The vibrations and lateral motion of the train create a parallax effect that forces your eyes to constantly refocus, which can lead to ocular fatigue and even mild vertigo in some cases—”

“Calm down,” you interrupted, cutting off his impromptu lecture as you pulled out a shiny new word search book. You held it up triumphantly. “Snagged it in the station lobby.”

“I thought you said you needed the restroom.”

“I did,” you said, smirking as you flipped through the book’s pages. “And then I saw this. Couldn’t resist.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes, glancing at the bright, cartoonish cover. “It says meant for ages 10 and up.”

“And last I checked, I am most definitely over the ripe old age of 10, Genius.”

Spencer shook his head, a small, begrudging smile finally breaking through his earlier apprehension. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was a lightness in his voice now that made you grin even wider

“And yet,” you countered, “here you are, stuck with me for the next four hours. Lucky you.”

Spencer sighed dramatically, but you didn’t miss the warmth in his eyes.

The train rattled gently as it picked up speed, the two of you settling into your books. Spencer had opened his novel, but the words on the page blurred as his attention kept drifting. You weren’t exactly helping—constantly shifting in your seat, furrowing your brow in concentration as you hunched over your word search book. He tried to focus, he really did, but his gaze kept flicking away from the neat lines of his novel.

You were stuck on the word minimal when he finally caved.

“Top left, vertically,” he said without looking up.

Your brows furrowed for a moment before Spencer reached over and pointed it out for you. “Oh, thanks!” you replied cheerfully, circling the word with gusto.

At first, it had been helpful, funny even, maybe even a little cute. But by the third time he chimed in with a casual, “Parachute. Bottom right, backwards,” you were ready to stage a mutiny.

“You’re ruining word search!” you declared, tearing the book away from his gaze, clutching it dramatically to your chest.

Spencer laughed, an unrestrained, boyish sound that made your cheeks flush. “It’s not my fault you’re so bad at it!”

You gasped, leveling him with a mock glare. “Spencer Reid, you take that back right now!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, still grinning, “but it’s like you have horse blinders on or something.”

“Oh, if you’re so good, why don’t you do it?”

It wasn’t a challenge so much as an invitation, but Spencer, being Spencer, took it as both. He snatched the book from your hands, scanned the grid, and completed the puzzle in a little under two minutes.

“Show-off,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help smiling as he handed it back launching into an explanation about linguistic patterns and visual recognition.

You both settled into a rhythm, solving the rest of the puzzles side by side. You held the pencil—because, as you put it, you deserved the pencil holding honor—though Spencer still pointed out words before you even had a chance to finish reading the list.

“Butterfly. Horizontal, top left,” he said without missing a beat.

“I saw that! I was getting to it!” you protested, circling the word with exaggerated flair.

Spencer smiled to himself as he watched you, his book long forgotten. Just as you had your favorite version of him, he had his own of you, one he’d never admit aloud. There was something about these little moments—when your carefully curated wit gave way to playful exasperation—that he absolutely adored. No clever retorts, no sharp-edged humor, just you. 

The two of you had been working on the word search together for a while now, the small book balanced precariously on the shared armrest between your seats. Naturally, you’d both leaned in closer without realizing it, the space between you narrowing as the train rattled along. But after a few jerks on the track Spencer notices you shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your expression tightening just slightly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice gentle as he glanced at you.

“Armrest’s digging into my side,” you admitted, twisting a little as if to escape the offending object, the smile you tried to muster falling a little short. 

“Ah,” he said simply, his tone matter-of-fact, “Put it up, then.”

The version of you from an hour ago might have quipped something sarcastic, turning the moment into yet another teasing exchange. But travel fatigue had set in, and the closeness of Spencer—his voice, his warmth, the way he seemed to notice everything—had you more flustered than you cared to admit.

“Oh. Okay,” you murmured, your voice quieter than usual as you moved the armrest up and shifted in your seat. The tension in your posture eased as you repositioned, feeling the strain fade. 

“Better?” he asked, his head tilting slightly as he studied your face.

“Mm. Slightly.” you replied, though the truth was that it was a lot better. Without the armrest, you found yourself acutely aware of how close he was—his arm brushing against yours, the subtle scent of his cologne, the way his knee bumped against yours when the train swayed.

Spencer nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer, but the faintest hint of a smile lingered on his lips. He shifted slightly too and returned his attention to the forgotten book in his lap. But his fingers drummed idly on the cover, and you could tell his focus was no longer on Sherlock Holmes.

“Let me guess,” you said after a moment, trying to ground yourself in the familiarity of banter. “You’re going to tell me the science behind why train seats are designed to be this uncomfortable?”

Spencer glanced at you, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Actually, I was going to say that the armrests are poorly engineered for optimal comfort. But now that you mention it—”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” you interrupted, groaning as you rolled your eyes, though your grin betrayed you. “Spare me the ergonomics lecture, Doctor Reid.”

Without the armrest dividing you, the space between your shoulders disappeared almost entirely, a quiet sort of intimacy neither of you acknowledged aloud. At first, it was just the puzzle again, you gently nudging the book towards him every now and then, his finger tracing a word before you could even spot it.

“Reindeer. Top right, diagonal,” he said for the third time, his tone just shy of smug.

You circled furiously with a huff. 

It didn’t take long for your enthusiasm to bubble over, the book tipping dangerously toward your face as you leaned forward in an effort to beat him to the next word. After the second near miss, Spencer plucked it from your grasp entirely, holding it at what he claimed was the optimal distance for focus while on a moving train—Though he still let you retain your pencil holding privileges. 

You leaned back with an exaggerated sigh, resting your chin in your hand as you scanned the page. Now, your shoulder didn’t just brush his in passing—it lingered, resting lightly against his as you stretched toward the book in his hands. The contact was unassuming, almost accidental, but you made no move to pull away, and neither did he. Spencer noticed—you were sure of it. How could he not? But if he minded, he didn’t say anything. You caught the faintest twitch of his lips, the smallest sign that he was aware. Maybe even liked it. 

You found yourself leaning more and more, your eyelids growing heavy as the minutes passed. Spencer’s presence was warm beside you, an unspoken comfort that made it easy to drift. It felt like the simplest, most natural thing to surrender to it. You’d handed Spencer the honor of holding the pencil 2 puzzles ago as your head slowly tilted, the weight of it pulling you so temptingly toward his shoulder. A soft sigh escaped you, and before you knew it, your eyes had fluttered shut. Spencer glanced down at you, the way your breathing softened, a perfect stillness that made his chest tighten. 

He didn’t know if he should move away. He knew he didn’t want to. So he stayed where he was, fingers curled loosely around the book, watching as the rhythmic back-and-forth of the train mirrored the gentle rise and fall of your chest. After another slight lurch, your head finally made contact with his shoulder. Spencer stilled, his breath catching in his throat. The way your hair brushed against his cheek while your knee pressed gently against his. How your hand lay across his on the book, a lingering trace of your last attempt to spot a word before he did.

It was all too much for Spencer—and yet, it was just right. 

He dared not move. He didn’t pull back, even though your hair tickled his face. His knee remained pressed against yours, despite the rhythmic sway of the train threatening to break the contact. His hand stayed where it was resting beneath yours on the book, his fingers loosely curled around the pencil, though the book was long forgotten. He stayed, in this unexpected, perfect stillness.

Before he could stop himself, his head had tilted and found its place upon yours. It was comforting, the contact grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected. Spencer let his eyes close, the steady hum of the train and the warmth of your presence lulling him into a strange sense of calm.

When the train finally eased into the station, the gentle jolt stirred you awake. You felt your cheeks warm as the reality of the crowded station seeped back in, the intercom announcements and bustling crowds breaking the intimacy of the moment. Spencer’s eyes were still closed, his breathing even. With a small, almost reluctant sigh, you nudged him awake, the touch soft but insistent. He blinked, looking at you with a hint of confusion that melted into a small smile when he realized where he was.

“Hey,” you murmured, a touch of embarrassment in your voice.

“Hey,” he replied, a soft warmth in his expression. 

“You dropped my word search,” you mumbled, nodding toward the book now resting forgotten on the floor between your feet. 

 “Hm?” He sat up straighter, looking at you with a bit of sleep still clouding his gaze. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you shifted, a little embarrassed at the way you’d curled into him, “I’m sorry I slept on you.”

Spencer’s smile was soft and reassuring. “S’fine. I didn’t mind.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, spreading heat to your face. You quickly bent down to grab your bag, fingers fumbling with the strap, hoping the movement would distract you. But before you could lift it, Spencer’s hand closed over the strap. You feel your heart thump at the gesture, the simplicity of it making you pause for a moment longer than necessary. The sight of your bag in his hand was one you could get used to. It was a sight that made you think of Sunday mornings and shared coffee mugs. Dangerous thoughts. 

As you stepped off the train, you instinctively reached for your phone, its screen lighting up with an influx of notifications. Hotch’s name stood out among the messages.

“Hm. Hotch asks if we need a driver for the ride back,” you said, raising your phone to show him, “Says he’ll send a van if we want.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed as he looked at the screen, the thoughtful expression on his face almost too easy to read. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice casual but with a note of curiosity.

You shrugged, the practiced ease of your movements not quite matching the fluttering in your chest. “I think we’re fine,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light, “unless you want to?”

“Yeah,” he smiled then, the corner of his lips tilting up, “Think the train was just fine.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: north by clairo saw you in a dream by the japanese house

[xjcjuis]

COLOGNE

pairing: billie eilish x reader

synopsis: "you said she's scared of me? // maybe it's 'cause i'm wearing your cologne"

warnings: fluff, jealous!billie, some random girl named vanessa, terms of endearment teehee

wordcount: 1.1k

a/n: hi sorry i disappeared for two weeks 😢 got busy

"does this make my hips look too wide?" you ask, partly directed to yourself, partly to your girlfriend who was also in the room. you're checking yourself out in your bedroom's mirror, hands attempting to delicately smoothen out the creases in the dress's cloth.

"mm, no," billie hums, but one look in front of you tells you that she's not even paying attention.

"babe," you whine, "you're not even looking!" you twist a little to see the side view of your figure. "i think my chub's showing."

billie looks up from her phone to you, now the one checking you out with a not-so-subtle onceover before setting down the device and walking up to you.

she's clad in a black dress to match with yours, thin straps over her shoulders and the cloth itself pushing up what needs to be and accentuating what can be. you watch her come through the mirror, breath hitching when her arms smoothly wrap around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as she takes you in almost lazily, hooded eyes gazing intensely enough that it gets you hot in an airconditioned room.

"so?" she murmurs, voice low. "nothing's wrong with you. you look so, so beautiful."

billie kisses your temple softly, letting her lips stay on your skin for a second longer than a peck. "my gorgeous girl. in fact, it's a privilege for the others to even see you in casual wear. in this?" her hands slide a little lower to rub circles on your hipbone. "i might as well keep you home and to my self, pretty baby."

"pervert." you scoff, spraying some of billie's cologne on your skin, acting annoyed but you were really feeling pretty pleased with yourself. her words definitely helped with your self-esteem, as you knew it would, and with your comment your girlfriend only laughs and lands another kiss on your cheek.

"you're perfect, my love. and so is this ass."

a playful smack, a threatened spray in the eyes from you, and she dodges and walks out the door.

"come out in a minute or i definitely will leave you at home."

"i hate you."

fast forward to the thing you were preparing for in the first place - an award show and, of course, what comes next.

after event parties were never your thing, even as a celebrity's significant other.

as a homebody you would much rather stay at home, watching tv or scrolling through your phone or perhaps reading a nice long book by the window wrapped up in your girlfriend's warm arms, but no.

instead you were here, taking up the role of billie's plus one to a post-award show celebration. it's not that you weren't happy about physically being there to support her, but being surrounded by people on another level of fame and luxury as you were was, in a sense, intimidating.

your girlfriend wasn't there to be your comfort all the time either; her friends and other singers who recognized her came over to talk. at some point the two of you had gotten separated, although you still had her in your line of sight from a distance.

"i just have to do this thing, okay baby? i'll be back."

so you stand near a wall with nothing but juice in hand, too nervous to let loose and get drunk with your safety person currently occupied. your hands were clasped together, small purse hanging from your fingers, dress starting to feel a little uncomfortable despite the seemingly endless compliments and kisses billie had thrown you for it a few hours before.

"what's a pretty girl like you doing alone?"

you jump a little at the unexpected voice. turning towards the sound, you lock eyes with a girl for a brief second before you avert your gaze, intimidated by her hooded gaze and pricey ensemble. she was pretty, yes, but she wasn't your girlfriend and so you weren't very interested in conversation.

but just to be polite, you indulge in one. "oh, i'm not alone. i'm just, um, waiting."

you shoot her a small smile, clutching your little handbag tighter and standing a little straighter.

her lips curl upward as she takes a couple steps closer, hand swiftly dropping her wine glass on a tray a waiter passing by was holding. "for? company? i'm here now. i'm vanessa."

she was a little cocky, but with a velvet voice like that, you soon fall into a comfortable discussion with her.

'how was your day's were exchanged, what do you do for work, childhood, family members - of course, not everything was spilled, but more than small talk.

the light chat turns to the subject of style and preferences, more specifically your dress, your hairstyle, your perfume.

vanessa leans too close for a whiff. not for you, she seems at a respectable enough distance from you, but definitely for billie who'd been watching from the moment she had approached you.

the singer's eyes narrow when vanessa's look the wrong way, the chatter of the personalities around her fading into the background when she gets too touchy with you, a huff of annoyance and perhaps jealousy when a random girl takes a breath of her girl's scent in.

and the fact that you didn't seem bothered by it? oh, she has got to put an end to this nonsense.

"hi, doll face." billie says intro your ear, voice an octave lower than how it had been mere seconds ago.

you feel relief flooding through your veins upon feeling familiar hands rest on you, oblivious to the staring contest billie had started with the woman in front of you long before she actually had her hands on you.

her grip on your hips tighten, more protective than usual. "sorry i took so long, i didn't mean to make you wait," she continues, pressing a kiss to your shoulder bone.

"i-" vanessa tries to speak, but billie cuts her off.

"you smell good, my love."

you twitch a little, feeling a slight tickle as your girlfriend's nose glides across your skin to plant another kiss on your jaw.

"it's your cologne, baby-" your words end abruptly as billie starts to kiss the sensitive skin of your neck, and your teeth trap your bottom lip in between them so as not to show any outward signs of your enjoyment.

vanessa, who'd grown uncomfortable at the obvious public display of affection, clears her throat at your apologetic glance. "billie, right? nice to finally meet you, i'm-"

"i don't care who you are," billie replies, blunt and straightforward. "i don't want you flirting with my girlfriend, and frankly i'm not very interested in getting to know you."

"billie!" you hiss, watching the woman walk away disgruntled. "don't be rude."

"i don't care," she repeats, hooking her fingers underneath your chin. "i don't like sharing what's mine."

and she kisses you on the mouth, fully, in the middle of a crowded room.

[orimuraa]

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺You got me looking for attention - OT7

(synopsis) ˖⌕ ۫ enhypen falling in love with you at the game caterers picnic ⋮

idol!enhypen x fem idol!reader ˖⌕ ۫ flufff ˖⌕ ۫ love at first sight for enha ˖⌕ ۫ wc 1.3k

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

it was definitely getting warmer as the sun came out more and they hadn't even started filming yet! heeseung was fanning himself off when he saw you for the first time. you were walking in with your group, looking absolutely STUNNING and the wind blowing your hair back in a cool effect. heeseung just couldn't take his eyes of you for the entire rest of the picnic. how had he never seen you before? your smile and laughter was infectious and it was like you were casting a spell on him. unfortunately, he was too shy of a person to actually go up to you and start a conversation. but the world seemed to be on his side that day because as all the groups were getting ready to go home, you quickly ran up to him, handing him a note, bowing, and then running off. let's hope the cameras didn't catch you looking at me the whole time ;) text me xoxo xxx-xxx-xxxx -y/n from y/g/n

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

jay had just received his mission and he knew straight away, who to go to. you. he had never really interacted with you before but everyone in the industry knew that you had a talent for limbo. quickly running over to you, he took your hand in his and ran back towards the center of the field. "what's the mission?" you whispered to jay, curious why he picked you. jay looked over and immediately realized he was still holding your hand and quickly flushed. dropping your hand, he was able to get a good glance at you and how pretty you were. why had he never really noticed it before? you had the visuals of a freaking angel! "o-oh! right, it's limbo," he stuttered, still a bit flustered from the moment before. you confidently smiled, finding the boy quite cute. at the end of the picnic, jay thought he would only see you again if your groups had comebacks around the same time, but you proved him wrong. as he was cleaning up his seat, he saw a small piece of folded paper on it. i had fun meeting you today. let's not make it a one time thing! call me, xxx-xxx-xxxx -your limbo champion, y/n.

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

jake was so done for. the moment you had come into view, he knew his career was over. he literally couldn't take his eyes off of you and if the camera caught him more than once, there would be dating rumors flying all over the place. he realized just how beautiful you were now that he could see you in person and he even had the privilege of dancing right next to you during the entire random dance play segment. you and him struck up some light conversations and it only made jake fall even harder for you. his members were constantly teasing him for being whipped for you from the start, but how could he not be when you were so sweet and pretty? jake realized that he probably wouldn't have another chance to interact like this with you for a while. however, right before jake was about to go back to the dorms, you stopped him. "i know it's really sudden, but i really liked chatting with you today and i hope we can talk to each other more! here's my number so don't be shy and send me a text sometime!" and before jake could answer, you were already running off to catch up with your group.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

wow. sunghoon was so jealous of your group. you had just won the word relay and now your group won every prize there was to win. sunghoon couldn't help but smile a bit at the sight of seeing how cute you looked while celebrating. this wasn't the first time he had interacted with you. you and him actually had a special mc show together, so you at least knew each other. but sunghoon was not expecting for you to come over to the enhypen tent with a small plate of everything on it for his group to share. "we only have 4 members so we thought it would be better to share! please enjoy sunbaenims!" you did a 90 degree bow before turning on your heel and jogging back to your own tent. you really were so cute. sunghoon had been moping around after that because he realized that due to the industry the two of you worked in, you wouldn't be able to see each other more without some sort of consequence. but he didn't wanna follow the rules. he saw you gathering your items and he took the shot. "hey y/n! i was just wondering if you wanted to maybe meet up outside of work? just as a friendly hangout?" he asked, surprised by his new confidence. "yeah! that sounds nice," you smiled. damn, he was one lucky guy.

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

the two of you were becoming an iconic duo in the random dance play. you happened to be next to each other and you two decided to help each other out if needed. sunoo couldn't help but steal glances your way, admiring your beauty. you had caught sunoo in your love trap because he was down bad for you by now. you smiles and laughter were so contagious and he just couldn't help but smile as well whenever you did. he did know you and your group before this picnic but he never really paid attention until now. you had pulled him in and now he was intrigued by you. while taking a break from filming, you quickly came up to him, giving him your number on a small note and then running off back to the safety of your eonnies. sunoo found you so cute the way you blushed like crazy while getting teased by your members. how could he not fall for you?

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

after jungwon and his group did their little intro, it was your group's turn. jungwon wasn't one to pay full attention, but for whatever reason, he felt himself drawn to you. you were doing the moves so effortlessly and with the prettiest smile on your face that he just couldn't resist. your group lined up beside enhypen and jungwon felt his heartbeat quicken when you placed yourself right next to him. out of respect, you bowed to him and all his other members with a quick hello. you didn't even do anything but jungwon found you so cute. throughout the picnic, he just couldn't take his eyes off you and he was sure to get into a scandal with you with how many times he glanced your way. he thought he was being sneak but when you came up to him at the end of the picnic, he knew he hadn't been. "here's my number, i hope to see you around more," you winked. oh that dating rumor would be so obvious.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

it was finally lunch and the unbearable sun was really wearing ni-ki down. he had been having a blast but he definitely needed a break. while waiting in line to win his lunch, he struck up a small conversation with you. to be truthful, he had been admiring you the whole morning and how kind and pretty you were and he wanted to get closer to you. you laughed at his jokes and the two of you got along so well. his hyungs had to practically pry him away from you so he wouldn't get you or himself into a serious scandal. but that wouldn't stop him. he was determined to get your number. the two of you continued to converse with each other and ni-ki was building up more and more courage to ask you now. luckily for his chicken self though, you came up to him at the end of filming and slipped him a quick note with a cute message and your number. this picnic was the best thing that happened to him (besided debuting ofc).

this was so fun to write and i may have gotten a little carried away with it....but anyways! special thanks to @taehyunnzly for the idea! and if you enjoyed, pls send feedback, like and reblog! i appreciate it so much <33

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip

[helianthus-tarot]

RELATIONSHIP: What do men think about you? How do they see you? (general)

This reading is about men, people who identify as men and/or people who have a strong masculine energy, and their perception of you. It's meant to be about men as a group, but you can try asking about your person, though I can't promise you'll get an accurate answer. If you want to ask about a woman, or someone with a strong feminine energy, you can try, but again, I can't promise you'll get an accurate answer. Keep in mind, when we talk about perception, it's bound to be biased in some way, so if you get a negative message, don't let it affect your self-esteem.

I posted the extended version on my Patreon which includes what do men who are ❤️ romantically attracted ❤️ to you think about you 👀📝 There are other 60+ fun and juicy readings on Patreon too so definitely check it out!

Disclaimer: Here | Instagram: Here

Instructions: Focus on the topic and ask yourself the question. Choose a number/picture that you feel the most drawn to or that you can’t stop looking at. Trust your intuition. May the message resonate. Let me know which pile you choose! Feedback is appreciated!

Like my readings? Tip here!

PILE 1

General: 10 of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, 6 of Swords Rx (The Hermit). The Sun, The High Priestess.

They sense a stable and grounded vibe from you; they think that you are the type of person who moves slowly or who takes time to evaluate things before you make your decisions, the type of person who considers future impacts and future gains when you make your decisions, the type of person who cares about being sensible, like, having good personal finance skills, knowing how to take care of your health, etc. Some of them think you come from a wealthy family, upper middle class and above, you are privileged, or you receive material support from your family. For some of you, this could be the wealth or the material comfort that you’ve built on your own, but they assume it’s provided by your family.

Despite the privilege/wealth they think you have, whether it’s coming from your own effort or your family, they think you are also generous with it. You share your abundance with others, you guide and help others when you can, especially by providing practical help or material help. So them seeing you as well-off isn’t really coming from jealousy or envy, it isn’t something they do to look down on you or to treat you like you grew up spoiled; it’s just something they think you have, and they think you use it for good.

Some of them see you as someone who could be a good spouse, whether they are romantically interested in you or not. They could simply think that you’ll make a nice partner for their own son/daughter/etc, for example. They think you’re quite reserved and conservative. What I mean by conservative here is not necessarily you believing in traditional beliefs, it’s just that, you give off the vibe of someone who doesn’t really party a lot, you are kind but you aren’t exactly a social butterfly, perhaps you prefer to stay at home and cook or read or do activities that are pretty lowkey or that make you feel calm and stable. That vibe. You come across as committed and responsible to them, hence a good spouse material.

But they also think that you secretly have some wounds or sources of stress that you haven’t moved on from, and they wonder if these wounds are the things that make you feel a little distant sometimes, like, you don’t properly open up. Some of you lowkey give off a sombre vibe, despite outwardly showing that you are happy or you are enjoying your time and interactions with people, so they pick up on it.

You ‘make’ them feel at ease with themselves, they feel like they can be who they truly are around you and perhaps they also feel like you bring out their good sides, you ‘make’ them feel inspired or encouraged to be truthfully and authentically themselves. For some of them, your responsible vibe brings out their inner child, so they usually get the desire to express themselves more around you, without shame, without insecurities. Some of them may be more playful too as a result, it depends on their age, but they could ‘poke’ you playfully so you come out of your restraint, especially if you have a serious demeanour. They also feel open towards you, they feel inclined to receive you with open arms. You evoke curiosity too, hence why some of them may poke you playfully just so they can see more of you. Some of them are drawn to you in a way that they can’t explain, though this is probably because you bring out their inner child.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What do men who are romantically interested in you think about you? How do they see you? Is it the same or is it different? Do they notice the real you? 🫢 Find out here! 👀📝

PILE 2

General: The Empress Rx (Judgement Rx), The Moon Rx (3 of Wands Rx), Temperance. Ace of Swords, 10 of Cups.

They think you are mild-mannered and placid, kinda passive. Perhaps you don’t react much, or perhaps they often see you taking the less confrontational way out. There’s this appropriate, agreeable and peaceful vibe coming from you, like you try to be mature, and patient, and try not to ruffle feathers. They think you often choose to be the bigger person, but some of them disagree with this decision. They think there are situations where you need to be more forceful and push for what you want, but you choose not to. Some of them could think that your peacefulness is actually coming from a lack of maturity (as if you aren’t fully ‘developed/mature’ yet to them, whatever this means) and a lack of self-assurance. Basically they think you haven’t properly come into yourself or stepped into your power. 

This is just an example, let’s say you chose not to confront a problematic situation because you were secretly scared or you were insecure about something related to it, but you acted as if you just didn’t want to fight or force things to go your way, you wanted to be mature so you chose to let go of that situation instead. That’s the vibe that they get from you, or that’s the assumption they make about you. You sound wise when you talk and they might think that you are interested in the spiritual or philosophical side of things, but yeah. Remember this is their perception, in reality it could be that you actually speak and act from experience and wisdom.

They think you are secretive about your feelings, not in a good way, they think you suppress a lot of things, especially negative emotions. They think you often choose to show a smooth and kind demeanour to the world instead of the murky, ugly feelings that you truly have. And some of them see this as harmful, because they think you aren’t really dealing with those, or you don’t really address those issues. Honestly if they are right about you, I wonder if you have Enneagram 9, because this sounds like it.

Some of you may not fit the beauty standard, they think you look like you could become more beautiful but you are still in the process of becoming, you’re still in that awkward stage or the stage where you haven’t quite realised your own worth/value/beauty yet. They may not see you as someone to pursue romantically, or to introduce to someone else, because of the lack of self-assurance that they perceive, they think you aren’t properly yourself, like you suppress parts of yourself and you could have insecurities with regard to that, and you don’t seem like you are open to working on those either.

Whether they are romantically interested in you or not, your presence makes them think about your romantic potential, about how you act in a group and around other people. Especially if you are a woman, some men think about the romantic potential of women around them, especially when they are deciding whether they want to stay friends or pursue something more. And they can be critical of your romantic potential, of how you act around people and in a group; it’s like their critical nature comes out more when you are around, their mind starts to turn and they start to sit and think and observe, and notice things that could be problems if you were to become their partner or their friend’s partner, etc. It’s very clinical though, I’m not saying it’s good, but they aren’t actively trying to be mean when they think these things.

Despite that, they think a connection/friendship with you can be very pleasant, not much drama because you aren’t the type for it, and so they are open to including you in their group, they are open to being nice to you and getting along with you. Some of them could see you as someone to protect, despite not having romantic feelings for you.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What do men who are romantically interested in you think about you? How do they see you? Is it the same or is it different? Do they notice the real you? 🫢 Find out here! 👀📝

PILE 3

General: 5 of Wands Rx (Ace of Swords), The Emperor Rx (Ace of Wands), 6 of Pentacles. 4 of Swords, Page of Swords.

They think you are assertive and confident, but there’s a negative connotation to this. Not super negative to the point that they hate you, no, but it bothers them a little. They think you are outspoken and combative, you fight for what you believe in, you say what you think, you stand strong in yourself, but they think there’s something wrong with this, or they think you need to do it in a certain way, or in a better way, you need to be less this or less that. It’s that kind of feeling. You behave in a way that ruffles their feathers lol. 

In reality, it could be that you are actually pretty chill, you know how to balance yourself, when to push and when to wait and receive, you may not be that aggressive or difficult, just healthily assertive and forward (some of you actually come with rough edges, but I don’t think these are bad). Regardless, many of them just don’t receive your masculine traits well, as if those traits challenge their masculinity or beliefs/comfort in some way. Some of them could think that you are a little stuck-up or full of yourself, perhaps they judge this based on your demeanour (or your face, maybe you have a resting bitch face), so when you are just out and about minding your business, getting what you want, to them it looks like you are acting as if you own the place lol.

Some of them could pick up on your more playful side, but perhaps you don’t show it often or openly. It feels like for some of you, they think your playful side is something they need to bring out, and in order to do that, they need to deal with your sharp edges. Despite the edges that they think should be smoothen out, they think you are generous and helpful. You share what you have with people who need it, especially things like skills, expertise, practical knowledge, money and material possessions. When you are in this energy, they think you come across as reliable, secure and responsible. It’s the quality that brings out your calmness and conscientiousness. Some of them think you are good with children, or good with people who need your help since you know how best to support those people. It’s a good quality that they think you have, yet there’s that but.

But they are often triggered by you. Again, not in a super negative way, they don’t actually hate you, not really. It’s just that you make them want to say something to you, to poke you, to challenge you, to get you to talk and respond to them, to argue with you a bit. It’s like you disturb their peace for some odd reason, and they have a lot of opinions about it. They could be slightly mean with their words just to see how you react or just to scratch the itch of their annoyance. They may be randomly or unexplainably confrontational, making sharp comments out of nowhere, or telling you what they think about you unprovoked and in a way that isn’t really kind, as if they have no social skills to handle the situation with tact. You ‘disturb’ their peace, now they want to do the same to you. 

Some of them could take a more playful approach; they could intentionally be annoying towards you, tease you, make jokes and start random conversations with you, just to get you to respond to them. You evoke curiosity and desire to know, the way they go after this varies, like I’ve described, it depends on how kind and mature they are. Some of them may not be able to leave you alone without some kind of annoying behaviour or comment. They act like they know who you are, but it’s like, there’s a subconscious part of them that is lowkey open to change, as if they’re waiting to be proven wrong or they are waiting for reasons to change their mind about you. Perhaps they secretly feel like they don’t completely understand you, hence the desire to poke around.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What do men who are romantically interested in you think about you? How do they see you? Is it the same or is it different? Do they notice the real you? 🫢 Find out here! 👀📝

PILE 4

General: The Sun, 4 of Pentacles Rx (King of Cups, 8 of Pentacles), The Empress. The Hanged Man, The World Rx.

You seem very genuine and positive to them. Your vibe is light and joyful, like a beautiful butterfly, it’s like you shine wherever you go. They think you like to laugh or smile, or you bring a lot of laughter and joy to people. They think you make people feel comfortable, you make your surroundings more beautiful and positive. They think you are full of inspiration and you seek to live your life the way you want, instead of following what’s accepted or what’s well-regarded by the external world. There’s this authenticity about you that is very freeing or liberating, like someone who passionately pursues what brings them joy and lives their best life. There’s a childlike quality to you, maybe you look youthful, or you give off a youthful, sunny vibe. Despite you having the wisdom to know that the world isn’t always good and nice, they think you are the type of person who chooses to see the good in others and the world anyway. Despite your youthful vibe, they don’t see you as naive.

They think you attract attention; some of them think it’s because of your vibe, it’s positive to be around you. Some of them think it’s because of your looks/beauty. Some of them think it’s both. They think you are stereotypically beautiful (i.e. you meet the beauty standard), or you take good care of yourself, like smelling and looking good, which makes you look beautiful. They think you have a good self-esteem, you value yourself, you know your own worth, so you live your life like that, but without arrogance. They think you are loving, generous and kind; to people, to animals and plants. It’s the vibe that they pick up on.

If you are a woman, they could think that you like stereotypically feminine things, like jewellery or the colour pink, cooking or baking, or being a homemaker or a mother. They think you deserve to live a good life, you deserve to have your needs met and some more. They think you aren’t closed off, you are open, you show your vulnerability with grace and integrity, you aren’t ashamed of what makes you human. When you have something you are working on, like a flaw or a weakness, you don’t mind showing it to them. So they can only acknowledge the emotional maturity that comes with that ability, i.e. they think you can do that because you are emotionally secure.

You ‘make’ them feel calm, to be honest, it’s like being around you put them into this introspective mode. They start thinking and pondering life, and feeling open to having their perspectives changed, to shift their understanding, and to look deeper into things. You make them more philosophical, and possibly also spiritual. Maybe through their observation of you, or words that you say; they learn more about the world and themselves, about their previous beliefs and misconceptions and how these can change, about a better way to be, a better approach to take, nuances they haven’t considered. They are also more patient around you, gentler and slower to react. They feel more open and willing to change their ways and adapt to you. Some of them are also more open to giving you what you need, even if it’s not something they normally do.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What do men who are romantically interested in you think about you? How do they see you? Is it the same or is it different? Do they notice the real you? 🫢 Find out here! 👀📝

[sitp-recs]

hi! do you happen to have any drarry recs where draco just gets harry? like even if he doesn't say anything, maybe reading his body language, his facial expressions or just simply knowing him so well? and harry being relieved he doesn't need to say much because draco just gets him? sorry if this seems confusing hope i articulated myself well enough, its not my first language...

Hi there! That’s a great ask - I’ve read this theme being explored in a few different ways so I went a bit wild here, I hope all of these work for you:

Begin As You Mean To Go On by @doubleappled (E, 3k)

The first time, it was an accident. The second time, Harry’s going to have to ask.

A Little Death Never Hurt Anyone by @tackytigerfic (E, 4k)

Harry's getting good at slipping through the Veil. He's determined to win the war, even if means he has to raise the dead to do it. Draco just wants a stiff drink and a good night's sleep.

Life goes not backward by @shealwaysreads (T, 9k)

Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different. A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots.

Wield Me by @tackytigerfic (E, 10k)

Draco Malfoy, blacksmith, is renowned through the magical world for his skill and exquisite creations. He could quite easily spend the rest of his days making pretty trinkets for the fae court, and being handsomely rewarded for the privilege. But why take the easy route when instead he could get involved in a dangerous mission with Unspeakable Harry Potter (who also happens to be Draco's... well, he's something, isn't he?)

Unseen by astolat (M, 11k)

When he wasn’t wearing it, he got jumpy, always waiting for someone to come at him wanting something—and now they did it even more urgently, if they ever saw him, because most of the time, nobody did.

Trouble, My Old Friend by Tepre (E, 21k)

Harry goes rogue investigating an illegal potion and ends up at Draco Malfoy's dodgy lab.

Nice Things by aideomai (M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

Like Lightning at Your Fingertips by potterwatch (T, 43k)

The problem with living with another insomniac is, eventually, they find out you’re one, too. When Harry and Draco return for their eighth year, they think they’ll see very little of each other. Then McGonagall assigns them to room together. And the castle starts breaking. And there’s that thing with Potter’s magic.

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k)

Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse. That is, until he stumbles upon the surreal and beautiful world of a mysterious fae creature…

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose, dustmouth (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

[chaussetteblanche]

I know it;s barely been posted yesterday, but I definitely need more Jason x biker!reader.

Wonder how it will go on :D

A/N : thanks for the request babes !! and thanks for you patience, this was a while ago !

Jason todd is a doberman boyfriend

he definitely loves going on rides with you

he thinks it's the peak of romance

he might slap your ass if he gets the chance

if you guys have your bluetooth connected, he's constantly telling you how good you look on your bike

"holy shit, your ass looks great from back here,"

"damn, you looked really good while passing that car, babe,"

"you know what you'd look even better riding?"

he'd drive in front of you if having him behind you made you nervous, but he would prefer to be behind, as to be able to have more control on any situation which might arise

he's a doberman boyfriend

and a mirror smashing king

when you're riding, he usually prefers to stay behind you so he can keep an eye on you

if you've seen those tiktoks of people defending their friends on bikes by chasing after cars, smashing mirrors or that kind of shit > 100% Jason

he might chase after a car if it cut you off, tried to merge into you, drove too close to you,... basically if it did anything to disrespect you or put you in unnecessary danger

sometimes that pisses you off though, you're a strong person and you can handle your shit, but he likes to handle it for you

let's say a car tries to merge into your lane and barely misses you because you swerve

and on top of being scared for your life, you're angry, so you start gesticulating around, telling the guy (because of course it's man) to roll down his window so you can yell at him

and he does, but only to flip you off

you decide it's not worth it and speed up to not have to deal with him anymore, telling Jason through your helmets

but Jason has other things in mind

bad, violent, illegal things

picture this huge pile of muscle of a man on an equally huge and scary bike slowly pull up next to you on the highway, murder on his mind

let's be real, the guy is most likely still going to therapy because of this encounter

but Jason sees red, this man put you in danger, and if you hadn't reacted and gotten out of the way- Jason doesn't want to think about that

and on top of that, he'd disrespected you

Jason can't let that slide, so he pulls up next to the car, glowers at the driver through his mirrored visor before tearing his side mirror off and smashing it into the car's window

the driver panics, starts screaming at Jason that he's totally crazy and that he's going to call the cops

Jason grins because both of you have your plates tucked, shaking his head

he finally catches up with you, tapping your ass lovingly as he passes by you

you didn't see what Jason did because you were busy filtering through trafic and trying to calm down

"did you see that guy?" you ask hotly, ranting about how dangerous it all was

"he's taken care of, sweets, don't worry your pretty head about it,"

"oh god, Jason, what did you do?"

he just smiles, feeling good about keeping you safe on and off the road

with him, you get scary dog privileges wherever you go, big doberman bf vibes

just imagine you, happily walking around shopping or whatever and this 6 foot something mountain behind you, glaring at everybody who dares to breathe in your direction

he definitely carries everything, especially your helmet if you guys go and have went somewhere together on your bikes, he’s got huge hands and has this special way of carrying both your helmets in one hand (it's so he can hold your hand with the other)

loves having you as a backpack

loves being your backpack too, although he’s definitely handsy, but only when you’re stopped though !!! he would never put you in any sort of danger !!!

but yeah, if you have boobs, he might grab them at a red light (if you don't, no worries, he'll find something else to grab)

he will come pick you up anywhere, anytime, just say the word and he is there (in record time too)(google maps hates him)

will carry your helmet around his arm for literal miles, even though it’s really heavy and uncomfortable, just so you can backpack

helmet kisses, all the time

he definitely goofs around at long red lights and will come up and hump your bike out of nowhere

of course, everybody is looking and you’re just 😑

if you ride a bike but know nothing about bikes (me) he will be your mechanician, garage guy, therapist and more

bike won't start ? call Jason

bike making weird noises ? show Jason

bike needs any kind of service of fixing ? Jason is already there, doing it for you

this is all I have for now, but feel free to request more stuff :)

[yourelliewillms]

the guy from the record

store wasn't a guy?

ellie williams fanfic

━━ chapter 1 wc: 1.9k

read the chapters here !!

you've recently discovered this record shop, the perfect place to find everything of the new kind of music you've just gotten into, rock. your friends wouldn't share this interest with you but maybe the cute guy from the store will.

━━ he/him pronous are used for ellie sometimes but it's for plot purposes i swear !!

BASED ON THE GUY SHE WAS INTERESTED IN WASN'T A GUY AT ALL !!!! i love that manga so much i needed an ellie version so i did it myself. of course this is going to be shorter and pleeaase go read it i swear you won't regret it <3 i hardly recommend you to listen to the manga's playlist too, i'll add some of the songs to this fanfic. literally all i want is my lesbians to have the recognition they deserve. ALSO green is the characteristic color of that manga so i'll be using it here too, everything will be green bc we love green lesbians.

another warning, english is not my first language so you may find some mistakes.

it's been a long day at school but at least the week of exams has ended and you've done pretty good. "i deserve a prize" you think to yourself while your feet guide you out of the building. certainly the exams drained you, the only thing you want to do now is take a long nap to catch up on sleep.

walking down the sidewalk, you put on your headphones which have been your best friends for the last few months when you discovered this band nirvana. it is in fact a popular band but in your friend group? no, not at all. your friends prefer other kind of music. pop, kpop, even jazz, but rock? impossible.

so you find yourself unable to share your new music taste with your friends. even if you beg them to give it a chance, they'll refuse it every time. this is definitely the worst, how are you supposed to fully enjoy this work of art only by yourself? they definitely don't understand what good music is, if only they gave it a chance you could-

just when the music from your headphones stopped, you could still hear one of your favorite songs smells like teen spirit coming from a... record store?

your mind is full of questions, since when has been this store here? this is just 5 minutes away from school and you've never noticed it. maybe this is the prize you deserve for having successfully passed all your exams. buying your very first vinyl will surely be the boost of serotonin you need.

you took off your headphones before getting into the store and quickly walked to check all the beautiful vinyls. the excitement could be seen in your eyes, all the vinyls of your favorite bands in one store and you're even considering finding a job, buying everything of this store is not a want but a necessity. this must be heaven.

after what felt like seconds but were actually 20 long minutes, you finally make your choice and find the vinyl that'll have the privilege to be your very first and most appreciated acquisition.

you turn around, walk towards the shop counter and just then realize how rude of you was not to greet the old man at the store. however, you don't care that much, he should understand that you were too excited to even speak and... was it an old man? did you even look at the person who was next to you the last 20 minutes?

"i'll take this" you place the vinyl on the counter before looking up at the person in front of you.

but now, you reassure one more time that you're not on earth anymore. this is definitely heaven, or maybe something greater because the angel in front of you isn't from this planet at all. green eyes, auburn hair drawn back in a messy bun, a scar on one eyebrow, black clothes with a nirvana t-shirt, an arm tattoo and a mask. this is the most gorgeous guy you've seen in your entire life and you were rude to him, you didn't talk to him for this entire time.

"i love this one" he gave you your new purchase in a bag "you have good taste" that raspy voice that'll live in your mind rent free for an eternity, you're sure about that.

meanwhile, your mind has been spinning for the last 30 seconds. a cute guy with a stunning style and majestic music taste, you've seen only his eyes but you can already imagine a life with him where you get married and play your favorite songs in your wedding.

"thanks, you too. bye" and just like that the conversation ended. you're definitely not the most flirtatious person but you didn't ask him anything, maybe it was too soon to ask for his number but not even his name? really? you can already hear your friends scolding you but at least you remember half of his face and that's enough to be delusional the following months until you find another crush.

8 in the morning and you've been talking for half an hour to your friends about this cute guy from the record store. of course they scolded you for not asking his name but your excitement couldn't be taken away that easily. no other boy from your school has ever made you feel like this, no one called your attention like he did.

"is there any possibility that you see your boy again?" dina, your best friend asked "and maybe ask him out"

"dina!" you frowned as if she had just said the craziest thing you've heard in your life "it's too soon for that. but as soon as i see him again i'll ask him his name" you started kicking your feet "and he'll fall in love with me."

dina and your bursted out laughing and spent the whole morning planning your future life with someone you saw once.

maybe you've been talking too loud or maybe she doesn't like you, but the girl next to you has been glancing at you and dina and she seemed a little too much interested in your conversation.

ellie. you've been classmates for almost a year but you two never spoke. she's like any other girl at school. she wears the same uniform as you, a white shirt and a gray skirt. she also wears these square glasses and she has her headphones on most of the time.

she seems like one of those nerds but one that doesn't participate that much in class. she comes to class, listens to the professors and goes home. you've never seen her talking to any other classmates but she seems comfortable only drawing on her notebook and listening to something on her headphones, it's not that you don't like her, but you haven't had the opportunity to get to know her.

but today she seemed quite distracted and instead of focusing on the class, she was focused on you. she seemed nervous, maybe she wanted to join the conversation and make some friends?

however, the bell rang. you were too busy talking about your new guy to try to figure out why ellie's been looking at you more than usual. you began to pack up your belongings; notebook, pencil case, some other books and, are you forgetting something?

the moment you're getting up from your seat, you can feel ellie's presence approaching you. you stare up at her for a few seconds and before you can say something, her hand reached your ear and put on one of your earbuds.

"you dropped this" your eyebrows furrowed, did she always had those pretty green eyes?

the song that you'd been listening on loop nothing at all was playing on your earbuds loud enough for her to listen to it "that song rocks, doesn't it?" and just like that she walked out the door leaving you completely confused. you're sure you've seen those eyes before, you think that maybe for a split second you stopped looking at ellie as your classmate and maybe... someone else.

on the other hand, ellie has been walking in silence staring at her feet while her mind is about to explode because the girl who sits next to her, her classmate and one of the most popular girls at school, has met and is interested in a guy who works at the record store. but no guy works there, just ellie.

she got a part time job and she's been working there for a few months but that was the first time she saw you there. you didn't recognize her though, since the style she has at her job is the opposite of the one she has at school.

probably the best option is to tell you the truth, the guy you're interested in isn't a guy and is actually the boring, nerdy girl from school, the girl you'd never talk to because that would only ruin your reputation, or at least that's what ellie thinks.

ellie thought that her job should be boring and only boring, she didn't want to have to deal with something else than that. and now that girl has a crush on her, or she has a crush on the person she thinks ellie is.

fortunately, ellie's job is calm. not many people visit the store so she spends her first hours of work tidying the place, not paying much attention to the store itself.

while cleaning at the back of the store, ellie heard the ring of the little bell on the door warning the presence of a client. she sighed and fixed her clothes before getting into the store again but got surprised when she noticed that the client was actually you.

if it weren't for the music playing at the store, the place would have been in complete silence. no one was on sight when you walked in so the sound coming from the back of the store scared you and you jumped. "you scared me, i didn't know you were here" you giggled nervously.

"have you been looking forward to it that much?" you were starting to stutter when the green eyed spoke in what seemed a flirty way. "no- i mean! the new foo fighters album" she interrupted herself "you were looking forward to it because you wanted to buy it, right?" she tried to hide her shaky voice, did she just accidentally flirt with you?

"i swear it's so good, you can hear it a thousand times and it'll still sound amazing. also, i know you like nirvana too because you bought the vinyl. you'll love it, i totally recommend it."

you were in a dream, did you just exchange more than two words with that guy? and he was showing a lot of interest it seemed unreal. you'd be a fool if you mess this up.

"i really want to buy it but uhm..." your pockets were empty, you spent all your money in that vinyl and being an unemployed student is not helpful to your situation "i'm a bit short of money right now" not to say that you're dry.

"i'm sorry but i-" yet she didn't let you finish your sentence "i bought this one for myself. you can have it and tell me your opinion when you return it."

he couldn't be more charming to you. only 5 minutes talking and you had already fell down on your knees. "thank you. you can give me your number so that i can bring it back." your hand sweating for you've finally made a move on who you thought was the guy from your dreams.

"no," no? he rejected you just like that, he didn't even a think a second to answer your question "it's just... i can't use my phone at work."

laying on the counter in front of you was a black ink pen which you quickly grabbed and started writing your phone number on his wrist next to his tattoo.

ellie looked at you stunned, she was glad she was wearing a mask because her cheeks had turned crimson. she noticed your hand shaking and that was the moment she realized the trouble she'd gotten into.

"i thought that if i wrote it on a paper, you'd lose it." the music playing in the background just made the atmosphere between you two dreamlike. you waved and smiled at him as you left the store hoping your burning cheeks would go unnoticed. not only did you have someone to share your interests with but also it was someone who you were crushing on really hard.

the first person on the taglist will be my editor/manager/first person who read this @ohnopoteito thank uuu 💋💋

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Hii ! Could you please do some husband/ father baji Head cannons. Tysm <33333333

Yeah, here are some for Baji!

Baji never really understood the whole wedding thing and what a big deal it was before he met you, then he suddenly realised how much he wanted it.

He's a very responsible dad, more responsible then his friends assumed he'd be but Baji takes raising a child pretty seriously, same as with his vet work.

Speaking of vet work, he did get a few things mixed up in pregnancy stage and asked questions about things that a human baby wouldn't do (after how many weeks will the baby open their eyes etc).

Tends to try to let you sleep if the baby or kids start crying in the night, he's always determined to try and deal with it himself (though he does need your help sometimes). 

Isn't afraid to tell his friends to shut up when the baby is sleeping (even if he accidentally wakes the baby up after doing this the first few times).

Struggles a lot to get out of bed in the morning when you're next to him, just wants to stay next to you. (You're definitely being forced to lie in with him on weekends).

He's pretty determined that his kid is gonna be strong too, like him. Will put his kid in martial arts classes (though if they show no interest in it he won't push them)

Is very protective as a partner, will constantly check your wellbeing and safety.

Is a very good mix of being strict and chill, actually a lot like how Ryoko was with him (his mother is his role model and he tries to parent in a similar way to her)

Puts in a lot of effort into all of your birthdays, doing his best to make the day perfect for you and the kids.

If Mikey has a kid around the same time then the two of them have a fun rivalry going, like who's kid will talk first etc.

Is a bit of a baby when it comes to taking medicines, doesn't like the way they taste and refuses to take them, you have to bribe him with other stuff he wants. 

Panics a bit when the baby first starts crying

Introduces his kid to all the neighbourhood cats and teaches his kid to feed them too.

Introduces you to all the neighbourhood cats too, he'll also occasionally bring one home and give you a pleading look as he asks if the cat can stay. 

Thinks men who won't change nappies or help out with the kids are weak 

Straight up congratulates his kid after they get sent home from school after a fight.

Tries to teach you a few self defense moves, just in case he can't be around. 

He's a very caring father who can be a bit strict at times but always does the best for his family

Your being married to Baji privileges includes being the only one allowed to touch his hair (at least while it's just the two of you).

Makes sure the two of you get plenty of dates (will spoil you a bit but he's denying it if anyone else asks)

Was so nervous about his wedding, Chifuyu and Kazutora had to reassure him a lot that it'll all go fine. 

Hates whenever he has to study long hours to become a vet because it means he gets less time with you and the kids. Promises to make up for it later though.

Being married to Baji also means having Chifuyu and Kazutora around a lot. Chifuyu especially does whatever he can for you, he respects you greatly for being the one Baji chose. They're also uncles to your kids and will argue about who the kids like more (it's Mikey because he brings them sweets)

Is very sentimental, keeps everything you and the kids give him.

As a partner he's very good at reading your moods and adapting to them. Your sad? Then he'll cheer you up. Stressed? He'll help you relax. Angry? Then he'll take you out somewhere to let that frustration out.

Is super glad when you get on well with his mother

He's a total family man, valuing you guys and his friends above all else.