#These Autumn Days are Drifting by Like Falling Leaves

[heich0e]

"can i call you later?"

the wind bites at your cheeks, but the sting you feel is as much from the smile on your face as it is from the chill.

"dunno," you muse, pursing your lips as though you're contemplating the question deeply. "can you?"

rintarou groans, but the sound isn't half as plaintive as it ought to be. you watch as his head hangs down defeatedly where his frame is folded over the railing that lines the front of the train station, his body pitched forward over the barrier like he's trying to reach you on the other side.

you've been saying goodbye for the past twenty minutes—or, you've been trying to. sort of. maybe. the train you'd planned to catch has already come and gone, and the next is set to soon arrive. one more and it will be the last of the night, but not even knowing that fact seems to be moving you closer towards the door to the station—content to stay here, like this, as the wind of the late fall night nips at your cheeks and the two of you muddle through your goodbye with the inelegance of two people who couldn't be less committed to it if they tried.

rintarou lifts his head to meet your gaze.

"i mean it, though." he says. "can i call you tonight?"

your stomach flips when he looks at you this way. when he keeps looking at you this way.

"we just spent hours together," you remind him, but your words are too breathy to make impact. too elated to be reproachful.

you've been on three dates with rintarou now. you think they're dates anyway, though it's never explicitly been stated. his invitations are always casual, sandwiched in between all the other texts he sends to you these days, so you might be reading into things too closely for your own good. but dinner doesn't just feel like dinner when rintarou has this way of looking at you like you're the only person he's ever laid his eyes on.

"i know," he answers. it's not an explanation, or an excuse, or even an apology. it's plain acceptance. a shamelessness you find wretchedly endearing.

you glance back at the station behind you, biting the inside of your cheek to temper your delight.

"my train is coming," you say.

he looks a bit crestfallen. laughably glum, considering the circumstances.

you drag the heel of your shoe back ever so slightly, not quite a step—at least not in any meaningful way—but inching in the direction of the doors at a glacial pace. continental drift seems positively hasty in comparison to your retreat.

"bye," he calls, his tone dejected. you watch as he lifts his hand weakly, still slumped over the railing, and waves at you with only a few fingers raised.

you want to laugh, but your chest is so full of something else—something syrupy and fluttering and good—that it's like there's no space for it underneath your ribs.

you call back to him just before you step into the station.

"rintarou—"

there are other people around, stepping between and around you both—rushing into the station to escape the cold, or moving briskly as they brace themselves and step out into it—but you hardly notice them when your eyes meet.

you smile.

"—call me later."

he calls you almost every night after that.

even as the cool autumn winds change with the seasons; carrying flakes of snow as winter blankets nagano, warming with the spring, turning heavy with humidity in summer, and then repeating the cycle anew.

even as your reluctant goodbyes turn from late nights outside of train stations to early morning words whispered under blankets as rintarou leaves for practice or away games.

even as the uncertainty of whether or not you're getting your hopes up—of whether those meetings were even really dates at all—melts away into nothing more than a memory.

you're not even sure what the two of you manage to spend so much time talking about on the phone. nothing, really. everything in its own right. rintarou's phone calls are something you come to look forward to at the end of a long day. something you anticipate when you have exciting news to share. a comfort when you're missing him and a relief when you need him most.

"is that the last one?" you ask, turning just in time to see your boyfriend—your live-in boyfriend now, officially—flop back on the sofa after he drops the last moving box atop the stack piled near the balcony door.

"yeah," he wheezes, evidently winded from the exertion—from the exhaustion—of moving house. you laugh a bit to yourself as you shuffle over to the sofa, leaning over the back so you can peer down at him where he lays sprawled against the cushions.

"aren't you a professional athlete?" you tease him. "shouldn't you have better stamina?"

rintarou cocks a brow, something sly swimming behind his gaze.

"i need better stamina?" he drawls. "you're usually complaining about the opposite."

you roll your eyes in the wake of his remark, grabbing a throw pillow from beneath his head and yanking it from under him unceremoniously, only to press it lightly against his face.

you shuffle back towards the kitchen where you'd left the box you were unpacking abandoned. you grab a plate from inside the cardboard and turn to place it on the shelf you'd decided would house your dinnerware.

"it's late," you tell him, reaching for the next plate in the box. "you should go wash up first."

you don't get a reply, and that surprises you. you creep over to the sofa again, only to find rintarou staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"hey," you laugh a little, leaning on your elbows against the back of the couch. "where'd you go?"

rintarou's gaze snaps back to yours. he still looks at you like he did on your first date. like he did outside the train station on your third. he smiles, bit it's a bit sheepish.

"sorry, was just thinking," he answers quietly. he reaches up from where he's lying on his back, brushing his thumb against your cheek. his smile turns a little bit giddy, then. boyishly charming. "can't believe we finally got a place together."

you lean into his touch, huffing a little breath through your nose—halfway to a laugh.

"guess you won't have to call me anymore," you joke, and rintarou's expression changes—falls slightly—but only for a moment. you realize what you've said, or at least think about the implications more, and you sort of understand the shift.

you fell in love through those phone calls.

you'll miss them—the ritual, the familiarity, the comfort—even though you know they've been replaced by something better.

you turn your face, pressing a fleeting kiss to rintarou's palm. "go wash up," you tell him again, heading back towards the kitchen and your (now twice abandoned) box of plates.

he seems to heed your advice this time, peeling himself up off the sofa and shuffling off in the direction of the washroom.

"don't use all the hot water!" you call after his retreating frame, and you hear him reply noncommittally under his breath before the door clicks closed behind him.

you've only got three dishes left to unpack before your box is emptied, but the shelf you'd been organizing doesn't seem to want to accommodate all of your bowls in the way you wanted, so you're left arranging and rearranging them as you try to find a way to get them to fit.

in the back pocket of your jeans, your phone begins to ring. with three plates balanced in one hand, you reach for it with the other—the movement muscle memory now, instinct more than volition, after all this time. you answer the call without even looking at the screen, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you continue juggling the dishes in front of you.

"oop—hello?"

you pause after you answer the call, realizing for the first time that you shouldn't be getting a call at all. not at this time of night. not in this apartment.

the line is quiet, just the sound of breathing that you could recognize anywhere to be heard from the other end of the call.

"why are you calling me?" you ask rintarou, but the words are light. too fond to be reproachful.

you hear rintarou laugh—from the other end of the call and from the other side of the bathroom door.

"just wanted to hear your voice," he answers you (the same way he has a thousand nights before when you've asked him that same question.)

"you're ridiculous," you tell him, completely enamoured.

"i know," he replies.

it's quiet for a moment as the two of you stand on opposite sides of your apartment. on opposite ends of your call.

you shift a stack of bowls a little to the left. it all fits now. just the way you wanted it to.

"y'know, the hot water won't run out as fast if we shower together—"

you hear the bathroom door open, and when you look over your shoulder, rintarou is peeking at you from around the edge of the door—his phone held to his ear, a smile on his face you know is mirrored on your own, and a look in his eye that's never once wavered.

he tilts his head.

"—wanna join me?"

[illyrianbitch]

Safe

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Azriel's night is troubled by a nightmare. He finds a soothing remedy in the arms of his mate.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, nightmares, slight mention of gore, death, and torture. fluff, sensual, slow, sleepy sex!!

Word Count: 3k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

All that surrounded him was screaming— sharp and jarring sounds that filled the air, echoing against stone walls. Bodies littered the ground, twisted and broken, red and bloodied, faces contorted in agony. If he squinted hard enough, Azriel could force the colors to blur together, could convince himself that the crunching underneath his boots was the sound of crisp, fallen Autumn leaves— not bones. Not the people he’d killed.

Somewhere, a fire roared, consuming everything in its path, turning the world into an inferno of despair. He felt it in his hands, felt a burst of agony and pain. He heard crying somewhere distant, somewhere far enough to where it became white noise— but his own cheeks were wet. He was crying too. His hands were on fire. He was eight again. And nothing had changed.

A face—your face—emerged, eyes wide and red-rimmed, tears streaking down your cheeks as you sobbed uncontrollably. You mouthed something, the words strained and straggled as you attempted to scream. He swore it was his name that your lips let out, that you were begging for help.

Azriel sprang up, his heart pounding as a thin sheen of sweat ran down his body in a cold chill. 

His gaze landed on two things first: the nightstand, where Truth-Teller was carefully, purposefully tucked into the side of the wood, and then to you—his beautiful, sleeping mate.

Azriel's chest tightened, the fear and anguish from the dream slowly dissipating as he focused on the rise and fall of your chest. Still, remnants of his nightmare clung to him like a shroud. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. 

The room was dimly lit by the faint glow of moonlight through the thin white curtains. Azriel took a deep breath, grounding himself in the reality of your presence, the safety of your shared bed. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch light and careful, as if afraid to wake you. He smiled at your sleeping form, at how he wasn’t uncomfortable with his scarred hands against your skin— not anymore. 

His shadows seemed to be sleeping as well, their dark forms curled around you protectively. All except for one lone tendril which hovered near Azriel, an insomniac companion mirroring his unrest. He let it twist lazily around his hand as he withdrew it from your face. 

You stirred slightly, murmuring something in your sleep, and Azriel felt a wave of relief wash over him. He leaned back against the headboard, still breathing heavily, but the rhythm gradually calmed. He positioned his wings into a comfortable lay behind him. 

Azriel closed his eyes, welcoming thoughts of the first time he’d met you. He reminded himself that you were here, beside him, and wouldn’t be taken away. His mind replayed the memory of your first meeting, of the way his chest tightened when you smiled at him— he had been a goner since that first day. He thought about your first kiss next, how nervous he had been, how you took his hands and pressed your lips to his, how your lips tasted of berry from the pie you both shared. The memories combined with the smell of you, with the warmth of your body next to him, slowly soothed the last remnants of his terror.

“Az?” 

His eyes shot open and he looked over as you lifted yourself up, rubbing your tired eyes—still heavy-lidded and soft. The shadows around you stirred, a few of them joining the lone one that drifted around Azriel's hands.

“My love, did I wake you?” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head slightly, a small smile playing on your lips. “No, not completely.”

Azriel's eyes softened as you shifted closer, moving to rest atop him. He extended his wing to wrap around you protectively, a hand moving to pull you in closer.

Your bare hand came to rest on his chest and he shivered at the touch, at the chill of your skin in contrast to the warmth of his own. He grimaced at the sheen of sweat that still persisted against his skin, but you paid no mind as you extended your palm across his chest.

You gave a small laugh, the sound soft and sleepy. Azriel’s heart fluttered at it and he found himself craving for the sound to be emitted once more— over and over again until he could savor it enough to be satisfied. Not that he ever could be— satisfied, that was. He never had enough when it came to you.

“Sorry,” you murmured, your lips turned up into a sheepish smile.

Azriel smiled lazily at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss tenderly. “You and your ice hands,” he teased gently, brushing his lips against your knuckles. 

You leaned further into him, nuzzling against his chest. “Well, you moved away in your sleep. I was left alone and cold.”

Azriel gave you a small laugh, though it held a trace of lingering unease as your words settled in his chest. Alone and cold. His eyes glazed over slightly, now looking past the moment he was in and into something much darker— momentarily reliving the memory of his nightmare. 

You placed your hand back on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. He blinked once, twice, and then he was back in his bed, arms wrapped around you.

Azriel's fingers traced the contours of your face, his touch light and reverent— sacred almost, as if he were touching a prized treasure, something holy. He moved slowly, committing every detail to memory, ensuring you were real, that you were there before him. He took it all in—the curve of your lips, the softness of your cheeks, the warmth in your eyes. Mate, his shadows whispered into his ears, Your mate. Mate, mate, mate. 

Safe.

His hand cupped your cheek and the golden thread within him sang—- a sweet, beautiful, haunting melody that pushed away the tension building in his shoulders. 

“I’m here,” you said softly, your own hand rising to cover his, grounding him in your touch. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Azriel nodded, his thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone. “Good,” he said, his voice steadier now. “Because I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You stared at one another for a moment, the dimly lit room filled with a comforting silence, something peaceful and safe. Slowly, you moved your hand to his face, your fingers brushing lightly over his cheek. You leaned up, closing the distance between you, and brought him into a kiss.

The kiss was tender and kind, and Azriel felt everything about love within it— comfort, trust, and a promise. He pulled you in closer, his hand wrapping around you, while the other held your face gently, his thumb caressing your cheek.

You were his. And he was yours in return. 

Azriel deepened the kiss, pulling you closer, his tongue gently exploring your mouth. A soft whimper escaped you, the sound sending a wave of pleasure through his body, tightening at the core of his stomach. He pulled back for a moment, his eyes searching yours, dark with desire and affection. You only pulled him back in, your body pressing against his, a needy grind that ignited a fire within him, an insatiable need to be even closer to you, to feel you in a manner that was only granted to him. 

With a swift, fluid movement, he rolled you both so you were on your back and he was hovering above you. One hand braced himself on the bed, while the other roamed over your hips and your body, feeling the curves beneath the thin fabric of your nightdress. His scarred hands brushed over the silk, the material still gliding against the roughness of his skin.

He pulled his lips from yours, slowly trailing down your neck, peppering burning kisses against your skin. His hand moved up, sliding under your nightdress, tracing the lines of your body. His touch was gentle, exploring every inch of you as if it were the first time.

You arched into him, hands clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer. His name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper, a sound that made his heart race even faster. Azriel's hand continued its journey, caressing your thigh, your waist, before finally making it up to your breast, squeezing gently through the fabric.

You let out a sound, a mixture of a breathless gasp and a whimper, and Azriel’s eyes found yours as his fingers grazed over the peak of your hardened nipple. He rolled it between his fingers. 

"Azriel.” 

Your voice trembled with need and something inside Azriel stirred further. This was real, you were real. 

"Yes, my love?" he murmured, his voice husky. His hand continued its slow, torturous movements, thumb brushing over your nipple in a way that made your toes curl. “What is it?”

Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath your fingers. You ran a teasing touch along the base of his wings, caressing the sensitive area with a chilled touch. Azriel shivered above you, lowering himself to press further against you.

"I need you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. His eyes fell to your parted lips and his lips curved into a tender smile.

"I'm here, my love," he said softly. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. His tongue teased yours, the taste of him intoxicating. He pulled apart to whisper, “And you are, too.”

You nodded slowly. “I am.” 

Your words were met with a tug deep in your chest that left you breathless. You bit back a moan at the feeling of that sacred thread growing even tauter, at the feeling of his arousal drowning your senses. 

Azriel pushed the strap of your nightdress down, watching as you moved it further to expose your chest to him. He pulled you into another kiss, just as hungry, just as passionate, before he was kissing down your neck once more— down to your collarbone and right above your breast. He took your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

You gasped, your back arching off the bed, pressing yourself closer to him. "Azriel," you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair.

He switched to your other breast, giving it the same attention. His fingers brushed over your hip, your thigh, before finally slipping between your legs. He found you wet and ready. The fabric of your dress bunched awkwardly at your waist, but neither of you cared— too tired to bother with maneuvering it over your head, too lost in the desire that flooded your senses. 

Azriel could have teased you, could have made the anticipation agonizing, could have spread his touches so far and light that you were begging him—like usual. Oh how he loved turning you to putty in his hands, watching as you writhed against him. But not tonight, not as he felt you beneath him, as he smelled your sweet arousal.

He spread you open with his hands, holding your legs apart as he took in your glistening core. His touch was tender, reverent, as he brought a finger through your folds, feeling your warmth and wetness. A low groan escaped him. 

"My mate," he murmured against your skin, his breath warm against your most intimate place. “So beautiful.”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows to watch Azriel as he dipped a finger inside you. His eyes locked onto yours as he curled his finger inside you, eliciting another soft moan from your parted lips. You arched your back at the sensation, head falling back slightly. 

Azriel brought his mouth to your clit, his tongue teasing and circling the sensitive bud. You looked down at him, mouth slightly open, eyes heavy with desire, and chest heaving. One of your hands went to grab your breast, fingertips tracing where your nipple still glistened with his saliva. Shadows met your hands, twisting around your breasts in a gentle, teasing attention — flitting just above the sensitive hardened peaks. 

Azriel added another finger inside you, stretching and filling you as he continued to lavish attention on your clit. His fingers and shadows worked in tandem, pleasuring you in ways that sent shivers down your spine. Each touch brought you closer to the edge of ecstasy, a simmering, building feeling of pleasure in your core. 

His free hand moved to grip your thigh, holding you steady as he brought you closer to climax. His eyes never left yours, and the intensity of his gaze made your pulse quicken even more. You could feel his fingers inside you, his tongue on you, and the tug of your beautiful bond deep in your chest. 

You let go completely, surrendering to the sensations that filled your body— with a cry of his name, you shattered. 

He lapped up your essence, savoring every drop of your pleasure. Rising above you, chest heaving, he breathed heavily as he looked down at you, something so beautiful, so real, beneath him.

You reached out to him.  "I'm here," you whispered, your voice filled with love and an overwhelming, dripping need. "Please. I need you."

Azriel nodded slowly, his desire mirrored in his eyes as he maneuvered himself to rid himself of his underwear. He returned to you, his body aligning with yours, skin against skin, a tug at the connection that weaved your souls together. 

He hovered above you, hands tracing the curves of your body, savoring how you felt under his hands— Gods, he’d never tire of feeling you, never be close enough. His light, his salvation, his mate.

He leaned down and pulled you into a kiss. 

"Anything for you, my love," Azriel whispered against your lips, his voice thick with longing and devotion. The sound of it made you clench everything below the waist. His fingers trailed down your body, finding their way between your legs once more. He guided himself to your entrance, teasingly brushing against you, and the movement elicited a gasp from your lips.

You wrapped your legs around him, urging him closer, hands gripping his shoulders as you pulled him into you. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed himself past your folds, a low moan escaping his lips as he sank into you. 

"Fuck," he murmured. "So perfect."

Azriel intertwined your fingers and held your hands gently above you, his head resting in the crook of your neck. With every roll of his hips, he whispered mantras of love, devotion, and praise, his voice a soothing, low cadence against your skin. You greedily drank in every word, feeling them flitter through your body like aphrodisiacs. 

The pace was slow, deliberate, almost lazy compared to the usual fervor with which Azriel ravished you. But it was exactly what he needed—soft, sensual, a reminder that you both existed in this moment, here and now.

You tightened your grip on his hands, urging him closer, wanting to merge your souls as intimately as your bodies were intertwined. Azriel kissed every area of exposed skin, thrusting into you as your cunt welcomed him greedily. 

He pulled out of you as far as he could just to slowly ease into you once again. Each thrust was thoughtful, intentional, and your whimpers grew louder as he continued. Azriel traced his nose over your shoulder, whispering your name to make you turn your head— just enough for him to kiss you. 

Mate, mate, mate. 

Safe.

Azriel groaned into your mouth, savoring your taste and how perfectly your body remembered him— how well you took him. 

He was alive and safe, in a bed that he shared with his mate— a mate that was writhing underneath him as he pushed you to another brink of pleasure.

Azriel's forehead rested against yours and he released your hands gently, allowing you to wrap them around his neck— bringing one to glide along his extended wing, eliciting a shudder throughout his body. 

"I love you," you whispered against him, “I’m here.”

Those words were all it took for Azriel to deepen his movements, for his pace to quicken as he leaned into you more, kissing you deeply as he rolled into you.

With a shared cry of pleasure, you both found release together, bodies trembling as Azriel emptied himself inside you. 

After he pulled out, Azriel spent a moment kissing you tenderly, his lips moving across your skin with reverence and affection. You both swayed together in the aftermath, riding the waves of blissful satisfaction as you lazily kissed one another, limbs still entangled like braided rope. 

He gently pulled himself away and made his way to the bathroom, returning with a warm cloth and a lazy, adoring smile. Azriel cleaned you up with gentle strokes, his kisses following the path of the cloth as he murmured sweet nothings against your skin. My beautiful mate, my treasure for life. Real, sacred— and all his. Each touch was a whisper of love and care, an intimate ritual that had grown to a routine as the bond deepened between you.

Once he was done, Azriel crawled back into bed next to you, pulling you into his chest. He wrapped an arm around you, cocooning you with his wing to keep you warm. He didn’t mind those cold fingers of yours, didn’t mind the chills they sent across his body, but tonight he would keep you close, keep you warm. His other hand found yours, placing it gently atop his heart, where you could feel its steady beat, matching yours in perfect rhythm.

Sighing contentedly, Azriel closed his eyes. He let the scent of you fill his nostrils, let the sound of your breathing fill his ears, and soon fell into a blissful, nightmare-free slumber. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

thank u to this anon who suggested i do something like this following my one-shot memories! pls enjoy this lil piece while i work on malice and LCL!! <3

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @justyouraveragekleemain

@panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia

azriel tag list🫶🏻:

@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty

[daenysx]

Hey babes first off cinnamon girl sleepover is absolutely iconic I love it! Very much helping me get into the autumn mood.

Can I please request James Potter + 11:25 pm? <3

11.25 PM | JAMES POTTER

"which one looks better?" you ask james as you hold two dresses in your hands. "i think this one is like- for a fancier night. oh, wait there's one more."

you're trying to decide what you want to wear to your friend's birthday party tomorrow night. it's important because it will be the first time james will meet your friends from work. he sits on your bed, watching you and helping you pick something.

you said you should decide what to wear before you sleep, and james agreed immediately. he likes this routine a lot, not just for special occasions but even in your daily life, you ask for his opinion on your outfit for the next day. he likes matching jewelries with your clothes, or telling you how much he likes your shoes.

"i think the dark blue one is really good." he says. "you remember i've got a shirt same color? we can match."

"oh my god, yes!" you say happily. "that would be perfect. i can wear my black heels."

james laughs at your excitement. you put the dress on your chair neatly, you can go to bed now that it has been decided.

he pulls you to his lap the second your leg touches his. he's quick to kiss you, your hand goes to his neck to get him closer. "sleepy?" you ask him, your lips still on his lips.

"a little." he admits, your gorgeous boy. he's been tired at the training today, he'll probably drift off the second his head hits the pillow.

"you know, now that the fall's coming, i think we should go shopping when we have time."

"yeah?" james asks, trying to settle down in bed with you. he's got big arms and a huge chest so it's not hard for him. "what should we get?"

"new lipsticks for me, because i'm running out of my red ones." you tell him. "and a new jacket for you, because yours will probably have holes in its arm if you keep pulling it down your wrist."

"and scarves?"

"yes!" you agree. "and pumpkin shaped candles."

james falls asleep somewhere in this conversation, he's got a smile on his face when his eyes close on their own. making shopping plans before midnight is a good idea. you kiss his cheek before leaving the bed to turn off the lights.

cinnamon girl sleepover ♡

[coichii]

IN A GOOD WAY - BANG CHAN

pairing - bf!chan ♥︎ fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 0.5k

warnings: body worship ( in a non sexual manor )

A/N : hello !! welcome to part one of my fall series, “fall : records of love” where there will be 8 individual short stories for the members :) these stories are based off of songs I deem “fall” feeling ! this story is based off of “in a good way” by faye webster. enjoy !!

“you make me wanna cry, in a good way”

“what…? why are you smiling at me like that” you say, interrupting the comfortable silence the two of you had going currently.

it was autumn. fall leaves falling outside, the faint smell of pumpkin spice lingering in the air, blankets being thrown upon every couch and loveseat in view. it was a nice warm feeling.

chan had just been given a short vacation from work. 3 days, not nearly as much time as you would’ve wanted, but at this point, anytime is worth it.

“i think you’re really pretty” he replies simply, setting his phone down to look at you more clearly.

you can feel your skin start to grow hot, turning away from him before he can see the brush crawling up your neck, but of course, he caught it.

“oh.. uh thank you?” you respond shyly. chan smiles softly, grabbing hold of your hands and massaging them.

“i don’t think you understand how beautiful i find you.” he starts.

“i think you’re the most beautiful person in the world. i love everything about you. i love your smile and the way it makes me feel all giddy inside. i love the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about something you’re passionate about. i love the way you’re face reddens when you’re flustered. i love how soft your chest is, the way i can lay upon it when i’m tired or in need of comfort. i love resting on your stomach and the warm effect it has on my face. i love your hips & waist, being able to hold onto them when i’m spooning you is one of the best feelings. then your thighs, i love the way clothes sit upon them. makes them look all plush and fluffy” he chuckles a little at the end as he drifts off.

he looks back up at you, expecting you to be turning your head away from him or smiling sheepishly. instead, he finds tears slowly rolling down your cheeks as your lips quiver.

“baby? what happened? did i say something wrong?” he asks slightly panicked

you hadn’t even realized that you started crying. the tears just came down on their own.

“no im fine channie, i’m j- just overwhelmed i guess? with love? that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever told me”

he’s taking hold of you in his arms shortly after that, gently rubbing at your back. he’s looking at you softly, looking a tad bit guilty for making you cry.

“well you know every single word i said was true right?” of course you know. how couldn’t you with the way he’s looking at you.

you nod silently, burrowing your head into the crook of his neck. he chuckles lightly before holding you tighter to him.

“i’m glad. i love you too much for you not to know how much you mean to me”

back to masterlist

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗁𝖽𝖺𝗒!

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, crying, kissing, reader’s friends don’t say happy birthday to her word count : 2k

the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as you slowly woke up. you reached out, expecting to find logan still in bed, but the sheets were cool to the touch - he’d already gotten up. you sighed, pushing yourself out of bed, feeling a heaviness settle in your chest that had nothing to do with sleep.

it was your birthday, and despite telling yourself not to get your hopes up, you couldn’t help but feel a little excited. but as you wandered into the kitchen, you found logan already dressed, pouring himself a cup of coffee. he glanced up at you with a brief nod, his usual gruff expression on his face.

“morning,” he said, his voice still rough from sleep.

“morning,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light despite the disappointment gnawing at your insides. you waited for him to say something, to give any hint that he remembered what day it was, but he just turned back to the coffee maker, sipping his drink without another word.

you forced a smile, hoping maybe he was just waiting for the right moment, but as the minutes ticked by, the silence between you grew heavier. you tried to make conversation, but your heart wasn’t in it. your responses were shorter, your smile more strained. you felt like a deflated balloon, all the anticipation from earlier draining away with each passing second.

logan, usually so perceptive, didn’t seem to notice the shift in your mood. he was preoccupied with something on his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration. you watched him, hoping he’d glance up, catch the sadness in your eyes, and realise what was wrong. but he didn’t. instead, he muttered something about needing to head out for a bit, and before you knew it, he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

the rest of the morning passed in a blur. you went through the motions, trying to distract yourself with chores and busywork, but your mind kept drifting back to logan, to the way he’d just… left. your phone stayed silent, no calls or messages from anyone. it was as if the world had forgotten you existed, and the weight of that realisation pressed down on you until it was hard to breathe.

by the time noon rolled around, you couldn’t take it anymore. you grabbed your coat and headed out, needing some fresh air, some space to clear your head. you wandered aimlessly through the city, lost in your thoughts, the cold wind biting at your cheeks. every shop window you passed, every couple you saw laughing together, only deepened the ache in your chest. it wasn’t just that logan had forgotten - everyone had.

you eventually found yourself in a small park, the trees just beginning to change colour with the arrival of autumn. you sat down on a bench, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you could hold the pieces of your broken heart together. tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, not here, not in public. you’d already cried enough this morning, alone in your empty apartment.

back at home, logan was busy working on a project when his phone buzzed with a notification. he absentmindedly picked it up, thinking it was just another email or text, but when he saw the reminder on the screen, his blood ran cold.

“don’t forget: y/n’s birthday today.”

his heart sank, a wave of guilt crashing over him so hard it left him breathless. he’d completely forgotten. the date had slipped his mind in the chaos of everything else, and now, thinking back on how you’d been acting all morning - how quiet, how distant - you’d clearly been hurting, and he hadn’t even noticed.

logan cursed under his breath, shoving his phone into his pocket as he bolted out the door. he had to fix this, had to make it right somehow. he couldn’t stand the thought of you spending your birthday alone, feeling unloved and unimportant. he didn’t know what he’d do yet, but he was determined to make it up to you.

he spent the next hour rushing around, trying to pull together something - anything - that would show you how much you meant to him. he wasn’t good at this kind of thing, never had been, but for you, he’d try. he picked up your favourite flowers, a small cake from the bakery you loved, and a gift that he knew you’d been eyeing for weeks.

when he finally got home, his heart was pounding in his chest, a mixture of anxiety and determination fueling him. he found the apartment empty, no sign of you anywhere. panic began to rise in his throat, but before he could let it consume him, he heard the door creak open, and there you were, stepping inside with a weary expression on your face.

you looked up, surprised to see logan standing there with an armful of flowers and a nervous look in his eyes. “logan?” you asked, your voice soft and unsure.

“i screwed up,” he said, his voice low and filled with regret. “i should’ve remembered. i should’ve been here with you all day, making sure you knew how much you mean to me. but i forgot, and i’m sorry.”

you blinked, the sadness in your chest starting to melt away at the sight of him standing there, so earnest, so desperate to make things right. “logan…”

“i know it doesn’t fix everything,” he continued, stepping closer and holding out the flowers to you, “but i want to make it up to you. bub, you matter to me more than anything.”

you took the flowers from him, your hands trembling slightly as you inhaled their sweet scent. they were beautiful, and you could see the effort he’d gone through to get them for you. but more than that, it was the look in his eyes, the raw emotion in his voice, that made your heart swell.

“you really forgot?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

logan nodded, guilt etched into every line of his face. “yeah, i did. and i hate that i did. ‘m so fucking sorry, baby.”

tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they were tears of relief, of feeling seen. you set the flowers down and stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. “i just wanted you to remember,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. “i just wanted to feel like i mattered.”

logan held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you like a protective shield. “you do matter,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “god, you matter more than anything. ‘m sorry i made you feel like you don’t.”

you pulled back slightly, looking up at him with teary eyes. “it’s not just you. it’s everyone. i didn’t hear from anyone today. it’s like i don’t even exist.” you blurt out through your watery smile.

his heart ached at the pain in your voice, the loneliness that had clearly been eating away at you all day. he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that had begun to spill over. “i’m here,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded heart. “i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere.”

you nodded, leaning into his touch, letting the warmth of his hands chase away the lingering coldness inside you. you didn’t need a big celebration or a fancy gift - just him, just this moment, was enough.

logan leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then another to your cheek, and then another to your lips. he kissed you slowly, tenderly, as if trying to make up for every moment of hurt he’d caused today. you melted into him, your hands gripping his shirt as you kissed him back, pouring all your love and forgiveness into that single act.

“happy birthday,” he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

“thank you,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “for this, for everything.”

he pulled you closer, his kisses growing more fervent, trailing down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. each kiss was a silent apology, a promise to do better, to be better for you. you closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensation of his lips on your skin, the warmth of his body against yours.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with emotion, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “i’m sorry i wasn’t there today,” he said, his voice rough with sincerity. “but i’m here now, and i’m not letting go.”

you smiled up at him, your heart full to the brim with love for this man who, despite his rough exterior, cared for you so deeply. “that’s all i need,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

logan pulled you back into his arms, holding you close as if he could shield you from all the hurt you’d felt today. you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath you. the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this moment, wrapped up in each other.

and as you stood there, in the safety of his embrace, you realised that despite everything, today had turned out to be a pretty good birthday after all.

★

the morning after your birthday, you woke up to the comforting warmth of logan’s arms around you. he’d already been awake, quietly watching you sleep, and when your eyes fluttered open, he gave you a soft, affectionate smile. “how about we go to that coffee shop you love so much?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you grinned, the thought of starting the day at your favourite spot lifting your spirits even more. you quickly got dressed, excitement bubbling up as you thought about spending a carefree morning with him. the walk there was easy, your hands entwined as you chatted about everything and nothing, the crisp morning air filling your lungs.

when you reached the café, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods greeted you, making you sigh in contentment. logan held the door open for you with a small smirk, following you inside as you both headed straight to the counter. he ordered your usual drink without needing to ask, and you couldn’t help but giggle as he confidently added a pastry to the order, knowing exactly which one you’d want.

you found a cosy table by the window, and as you sat down, logan placed the tray in front of you with a mock-serious expression. “only the best for you,” he said, but the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement.

you laughed, playfully nudging his arm. “you’re too good to me.”

he shrugged, his gaze softening as he watched you take a bite of your pastry. “you deserve it.”

as you sipped your coffee, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and the occasional playful banter. logan found himself completely captivated by the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your plans for the week, the way you scrunched your nose when you tried to describe something particularly tricky. he couldn’t stop thinking about how utterly adorable you were, and the thought made his heart swell in a way that was still new and unfamiliar to him.

at one point, you accidentally got a bit of whipped cream on your nose, and he chuckled, leaning over to gently wipe it off with his thumb. “you’re a mess, you know that?” he teased, but the affection in his voice was undeniable.

“only for you,” you quipped back, making him shake his head with a grin.

as the morning wore on, you both lost track of time, too wrapped up in each other to care about anything else. the coffee shop, the world outside - it all faded away, leaving just the two of you, happy and content in each other’s company.

[m4rv3l-girl]

Happens to the Best of Us - Part 5

Bucky x Barnes

Y/N needs help with everything…

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Note: You may notice a change in narrative voice. I just found it quite stifling to write in 2nd person 🫶

Warnings: Smut. Fingering. Oral (f!receiving). Pregnant Reader. Fluffy smut - like the “I’m going to put my fingers in you and show you how loved you are” type of smut.

As the early autumn sun drifted through the apartment window, Y/N shifted uncomfortably on the couch, her back aching as she tried to settle in for what felt like the hundredth time.

At eight months pregnant, even sitting seemed like a trial. She sighed, letting her head fall back against the pillows, closing her eyes in mild frustration.

Bucky noticed instantly. “You okay, Doll?” His gentle voice came from the kitchen where he’d been cleaning up from breakfast. He was by her side in moments, his hand warm and steady on her shoulder. The tension in her body eased just a bit at his touch.

Y/N gave him a tired smile, half-lidded eyes meeting his. “I feel like a whale stuck on dry land,” she admitted with a laugh, rubbing at the side of her belly.

He chuckled softly, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “You’re not a whale,” he said, brushing his hand over her bump with a tenderness that still left her feeling fluttery. “But you do look like you could use a break. Or…some help, maybe?”

A smile spread across her lips. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she teased, though her hand drifted to rest on top of his, tracing her fingers over his knuckles.

Bucky smirked, squeezing her hand lightly. “Maybe I would,” he murmured, tone laced with playful intent. “Can’t help it if I love taking care of you, sweetheart.”

She felt her heart swell, a pleasant warmth blooming as his thumb traced gentle circles against her skin. “You spoil me,” she murmured, leaning into him.

“Someone’s gotta look after you, and I’m pretty happy it gets to be me,” he replied softly, slipping his arm behind her shoulders to help her lean into him. “Now, let’s take care of that ache of yours. It’s been bugging you for days.”

She let out a grateful sigh, her eyes fluttering shut as he began to knead gently at her shoulders. His touch was firm, strong, but never too much, and his thumb pressed into the sore spots just right. She could feel herself melting under his touch, tension dissipating as his hands worked their magic.

“Feels so good,” she whispered, barely able to keep her voice steady as he moved down her back, taking extra care to soothe every knot, every ounce of discomfort. Bucky’s hands moved with practiced ease, his voice gentle in her ear.

“I’d do anything for my best girl,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. His lips lingered there, and she could feel his smile against her hair. Slowly, he brought his hands around, trailing his touch down her arms, leaving her feeling light and floaty.

She could feel his gaze soften as he looked down at her, his eyes roaming over her, that sweet, adoring look that never failed to make her heart skip a beat. He seemed to hesitate a moment, then he spoke, his voice low. “There’s…something else I can do for you. If you’d like.”

A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she looked up at him. “Oh? What are you offering, Sergeant Barnes?”

He chuckled, leaning in close, the scent of his cologne washing over her. “You tell me what you need,” he whispered, his tone warm and suggestive, his lips grazing the curve of her ear. “And I’m all yours, Doll.”

With a little shift, she moved to pull him closer, her hand slipping up to trace the back of his neck, fingers grazing his skin. “Well, maybe there is something…” she murmured, trailing off, lips barely an inch from his.

He took her face in his hands, eyes flickering with warmth and just a hint of mischief. “Anything, Kitten,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over her cheek.

In one gentle motion, he pulled her closer, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was soft and patient, but simmering with a warmth that left her breathless. The rest of the world faded away, and she melted into him, feeling all the weight of her worries slip away.

The two of them paused, Bucky’s lips lingering close to hers, a soft smile on his face as his voice dropped to a murmur. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

Y/N nodded, a shiver of anticipation running through her body. "Please," she whispered against his lips.

Bucky's smile widened, his eyes darkening with desire. He kissed her again, deeper this time, his tongue teasing along the seam of her lips. She opened for him eagerly, sighing into his mouth as his hands began to roam, caressing her sides and the swell of her belly with reverence.

"So beautiful," he murmured, trailing kisses along her jaw and down her neck. "My gorgeous girl."

Y/N tilted her head, giving Bucky better access as he lavished attention on her neck. His metal hand slid under her shirt, cool against her heated skin. She shivered at the contrast, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"That feel good, doll?" Bucky murmured against her skin, his breath hot on her neck.

"Yes," she breathed, her fingers threading through his hair. "Don't stop."

He chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending tingles down her spine. "Wouldn't dream of it, Kitten."

With gentle movements, mindful of her pregnant belly, Bucky helped Y/N lie back on the couch. He hovered over her, his eyes roaming her body with undisguised desire. Slowly, he pushed her shirt up, revealing her swollen stomach.

Bucky's eyes softened as he gazed at her belly, his flesh hand caressing the taut skin reverently. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, leaning down to press a tender kiss just above her navel. "Carrying our child."

Y/N's breath hitched as his lips trailed lower, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses across her sensitive skin. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he reached the waistband of her shorts, his metal hand coming up to hook into the elastic.

"May I?" he asked, looking up at her with dark eyes.

She nodded, lifting her hips to help as he slowly slid the shorts down her legs. Bucky's hands caressed her thighs as he settled between them, his breath warm against her center.

"So perfect," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh.

Y/N shivered at the sensation of Bucky's lips on her sensitive skin. He took his time, kissing and nipping gently along her inner thighs, building the anticipation. His metal hand slid up to cup her breast through her shirt, thumb brushing over her hardened nipple.

"Bucky," she breathed, arching into his touch. "Please…"

He looked up at her, a smirk playing on his lips. "Please what, doll? Tell me what you want."

"Your mouth," she whimpered, hips shifting restlessly. "I need your mouth on me."

Bucky's eyes darkened further at her words. "As you wish," he murmured, before finally leaning in to taste her.

Y/N gasped as his tongue flattened against her, licking a long stripe up her center. Her fingers tightened in Bucky's hair as he began to explore her folds with his tongue, alternating between broad strokes and focused flicks against her sensitive bundle of nerves. Her legs trembled as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Bucky groaned against her, the vibrations adding to her mounting pleasure. His flesh hand gripped her thigh, keeping her spread open for him as he devoured her with enthusiasm. His metal hand continued to knead her breast gently, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

"Oh god, Bucky," Y/N moaned, her head falling back against the pillows. Her hips rocked against his face, chasing the building tension coiling low in her belly.

"You taste so sweet," he murmured against her, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers through her body.

Y/N moaned softly as Bucky focused his attention on her sensitive bud, circling it with his tongue before sucking gently. Her hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction. Bucky's metal arm draped over her hips, holding her steady as he continued his ministrations.

"That's it, doll," he encouraged between licks. "Let go for me. I've got you."

Y/N felt herself getting close, the tension building low in her belly as Bucky worked her with his skilled tongue. Her fingers tightened in his hair, holding him against her as she chased her release.

"Bucky, I'm… I'm so close," she panted, her back arching slightly off the couch.

He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through her. His flesh hand came up to gently massage her swollen breast, careful not to apply too much pressure to her sensitive nipples.

The sensation of his mouth on her aching center and his hand on her breast pushed Y/N over the edge. She cried out softly as her orgasm washed over her, her thighs trembling around Bucky's head. He continued to lap at her gently, working her through the aftershocks until she tugged lightly at his hair in overstimulation, signaling him to stop.

Bucky placed one last soft kiss on her inner thigh before moving back up her body, his eyes filled with warmth and adoration. He cupped her face gently, brushing his thumb over her flushed cheek.

"You're so beautiful when you come for me," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her softly. Y/N could taste herself on his lips, and she hummed contentedly into the kiss.

When they parted, she looked up at him with a lazy smile. "That was amazing," she sighed, her hand coming to rest on her belly.

Bucky smiled tenderly, placing his hand over hers on her rounded belly. "Glad I could help, doll," he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "How are you feeling now?"

Y/N sighed contentedly, her body relaxed and pliant beneath his. "Much better," she admitted with a sleepy smile. "Though now I might just fall asleep right here."

Chuckling softly, Bucky brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "As tempting as that sounds, I think our bed might be more comfortable." His eyes sparkled with mischief as he added, "Plus, I'm not quite done taking care of you yet."

A shiver of anticipation ran through Y/N at his words. "Oh?" she breathed, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "What else do you have planned, Serge?”

——————————————————————————————————

Ugh, don’t we just love soft Bucky? 😩

Requests Open!

[ghostboneswrites2]

desperate

18+ MDNI - Plotless quickie between sexually frustrated reader & Daryl.

“Quit.” He demanded.

“What?” You asked defensively.

“Quit starin’ at me like that.” He elaborated, shifting uncomfortably.

“Like what?” You asked.

“That, girl.”

You gulped. Not at the warning in his tone, but at the living, breathing lust that lived underneath your skin. It had been ages since you’d been touched. You were desperate for any kind of human touch these days.With some hesitation, you tore your eyes away from him and turned your attention back to the sky. Clouds crept over the canopy, casting soft shadows on the ground as they drifted across the sky. You tried to empty your mind.

Daryl shifted uncomfortably from where he lay beside you, arms crossed behind his head. He was doing just about as well as you were.

Back on the road, it was easy to bury the useless things – like lust and longing – deep down where they stood no chance of meeting the surface. But now? No, not easy at all. Without the constant gnawing of hunger or burn of thirst, there was just too much room for those things you tried to bury.

A breeze kissed your skin and sent a shiver rushing over you. The sun had begun to set. Vibrant hues of orange and pink scattered over the oranges and reds of the leaves. Autumn had begun to show her face in all corners of the forest. Suddenly, you were eighteen again, spending a cool fall evening with your friends in the field, drinking beers with your boyfriend’s arm over your shoulder. You wore his jacket that day, and he’d told you just how pretty you looked with your messy hair and chapped lips. A tear slipped down your cheek at the memory. God, survival was lonely.

Daryl sucked in a breath and let the chill burn his lungs. “We should get goin’ soon.” He sighed.

“Right.” You agreed, pushing yourself up to your feet, extending a hand to Daryl. He glared, but he took it.

“‘M not that damn old.” He grumbled.

“I can hear your bones creaking from here.” You teased as you pulled him to his feet as much as he’d allow you to.

The trek home began in silence as you strolled leisurely by his side. You subconsciously shifted closer to him as the air got cooler around you. He didn’t mind, but when your hands got cold, and you bravely reached for his…

“I’m sorry.” You blurted, heat rising to your face as he snatched his hand back. He shook his head quickly, as if trying to shake the incident from his memory completely. 

“‘S fine.” He shrugged as he kept walking. Your jaw clenched shut tightly, anger rising in your chest at your stupidity. At his stupidity.

You knew he liked you too. He wouldn’t agree to these walks to the pond if he didn’t. And, you knew he wanted you, the same way you wanted him. You used to catch him watching you, letting his eyes roam the length of your body when he did. He had to feel it too, and you’d never seen him involved with anyone else, so he had to want it just as bad.

The thoughts ran rampant through your mind as your hands began to tremble. You were too frustrated, ready to burst at the seams with rage and hormones and eagerness.

Before you knew it, your legs were working as quickly as your mind and you were storming right by him.

“Where ya goin’?” He asked, voice raising slightly the further away you stomped.”Hey!” He called out, jogging to match your pace.”Hold up, damn it!” He demanded, reaching to grasp your upper arm but you snatched it away. His chest tightened with annoyance. Had you really been so upset about the hand thing?

Now he was storming up behind you, heavy boots crunching as he paid no mind to keeping quiet.

His strong arm reached forward once more, this time wrapping a firm hand around your shoulder. You whipped around in a fury, only to be met with the roughness of his unkempt facial hair as his lips met yours. Your heart skipped a few beats before you let out a breath, relaxing as his hands slid down to your sides. Desperation washed over you quickly and in a blink you were walking forward, backing him into a tree. Your fists dug into his shirt as you whined into his mouth. 

Daryl’s hands tightened on your hips and clenched at the hem of your shirt. A silent plea that you hastily answered, yanking your shirt above your head where he pulled it off. Without an ounce of restraint your fingers met his belt and fiddled with the buckle until it was undone. Before you could get any further, Daryl grabbed your arms and spun you so that you stood against the tree this time. His rough callouses brushed  your skin. It made quick work of unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs. You worked together to pull them from your feet, not caring where they went when he tossed them to the side.

There wasn’t any time to worry about your panties. He hooked a thumb in the thin fabric covering your crotch and pulled it to the side, nearly going pale at the sight of you, glistening and eager for him. 

Your hips swiveled forward uncontrollably, aching for him. A shaky breath escaped him, nerves tingling beneath his fingertips as his thumb brushed gently over your clit. You gasped softly, mouth hanging open as you watched his face. His eyes met yours and he could practically hear them begging for more. He gulped and freed himself from his zipper. 

You didn’t hesitate to reach down and grip his length, guiding him as he thrusted forward, soft and slow, until he buried himself inside you, all the way down to the base of his cock. You cried out, a blissful wave of pain and pleasure vibrating in your core. Neither of you could last long at this rate. You were already trembling, and he didn’t even have to try. 

A muffled sound, something between a moan and a cry, hissed from his gritted teeth as he pulled back slowly and slid effortlessly back inside. You moaned this time, shamelessly into the open air.

The sound ignited something in him and his pace and intensity quickened, knocking little noises out of you every time your back hit the tree. Your arms were wrapped tightly around him, hands held tight to anything you could grab onto. With each new thrust, you became more and more sensitive, legs shaking as you tried to hold your position. Your face contorted as a coil wound up tight in your core. Daryl freed a hand to slide it gently over your lips. He could feel you clenching around him, and he was grateful, because he knew he couldn’t hold on much longer.

“Shh…” He begged breathlessly against your ear. The shuddering noises rushed out of you relentlessly. He clamped his hand down tighter as he quickened his movements. Your eyes widened for a second and glazed over as your body shuddered with release. Your walls pulsed and clenched around him, and it was too much to bear. He growled, his movements erratic for only a moment before he came to a clumsy stop, head slumping forward against the tree trunk beside your head.

[brunchable]

Golden Hour

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Themes: Set in 1940s. Confession. Reciprocated love. Friends to Lovers. FOR HOPELESS ROMANTICS. FLUFF, FLUFF FLUFF, I'M GOING TO CRY.

Summary: They say if you catch a falling maple leaf, you will fall in love with the person you are walking with….

A/N: IT'S AUTUMN SO WHY NOT AN AUTUMN FLUFFFF. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH. That's all I can say for this oneshot. HEEEEEEELP.

tags: @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss

They say if you catch a falling maple leaf, you will fall in love with the person you are walking with…

You’d heard it once, some playful superstition from a passing stranger or tucked within a ladies’ magazine you’d read in the parlor. A charming, innocent idea, really. But as autumn swept in, bringing with it the rustle of leaves and the scent of burning wood, it was hard not to dwell on it every time you found yourself alone with him, that ache in your heart growing quietly beneath the weight of all the things you couldn’t say.

It started with the glances. Fleeting moments where you’d catch Bucky watching you across a crowded room, his gaze soft and unguarded, only to see him look away the moment he knew you’d noticed. And while every sensible thought told you it was nothing, a part of you, tender and foolish, couldn’t help but wonder. Wonder if maybe, in those stolen glances, there was something he didn’t say. But then he’d laugh, smile, and carry on, as if you were just a friend, a confidante… nothing more.

The doubt settled heavily in your chest, a quiet weight that seemed to deepen each time he stood just a little too close, each accidental brush of his hand against yours. Every polite touch, every lingering smile—it was agony and comfort all at once, and you told yourself it was only natural, the way he acted around you. Yet it didn’t stop your heart from racing with every small kindness, hoping, praying, that maybe… just maybe, there was something more hidden in those smiles.

Still, it was a longing you knew must be yours alone, a secret you held tightly, tucked away like a pressed flower in a favorite book, something you feared would wither if he saw it too clearly. Because what if he did notice? What if he saw how your breath caught when he laughed, how you spent sleepless nights replaying every moment he’d lingered too close, his presence warming the air between you, as if he belonged there? The mere thought of him realizing, of knowing you looked at him that way, was as thrilling as it was terrifying. So you’d almost convinced yourself it was safer this way—to keep your distance, to save yourself the heartbreak of expecting something that wasn’t yours to hope for.

And yet, those little whispers of hope refused to fade. You’d wonder, late at night, if he noticed how your smile softened when he was near, if he ever sensed the way you held onto his every word. It was that quiet, fragile hope that kept you walking beside him now, clutching the silly old superstition as if it were a lifeline. If only you could catch that falling leaf, you told yourself, maybe it would mean something. Maybe it would make these quiet, one-sided glances into something real.

It was a ridiculous thought. You knew that. But as you strolled beside him beneath the blazing colors of the trees, your heart beating in time with each leaf that drifted to the ground, you couldn’t stop yourself from wishing—wishing that, just this once, he would look at you and truly see.

× × × ×

The park was alight with the fiery colors of autumn, the soft hum of city life drifting faintly in the background—horns honking in the distance, the murmur of people milling about in their wool coats and fedoras. You strolled side by side with Bucky, wrapped up in your coat and scarf, the crisp October air nipping at your cheeks. He wasn’t one to join you on leisurely walks, especially on his rare day off, but here he was, his hands in his pockets, letting you nudge him now and then, teasing him about looking so out of place among all the folks enjoying the pumpkin displays and hot chestnut stands.

As you walked, you kept glancing up, scanning the branches above, hoping they might give you just one chance at catching a leaf. Every time the breeze rustled through, a few would break free, fluttering down to the ground, but always out of reach. You tried to be subtle, sneaking looks upward every so often.

But Bucky wasn’t so easy to fool.

“You keep looking at the trees like they’re about to start talking or something,” he finally said, raising an eyebrow. “Something on your mind doll?”

“Hmm? Oh, just taking in the leaves,” you replied quickly, glancing away to hide the color rising in your cheeks. There was no way you were going to tell him about the silly superstition that had been occupying your thoughts since you’d left home: the one that claimed if you caught a falling maple leaf, you’d fall in love with the person you were walking beside.

Ridiculous, really, you told yourself. Just a bit of fun that didn’t mean anything. And yet, the hope of catching that leaf lingered, even as you kept up the act of enjoying the autumn air like anyone else out for a stroll.

You kept walking, chatting here and there, and just as you were about to give up on the idea, a bright red maple leaf broke from the branches above, twirling down like it was dancing on the breeze.

“There!” you gasped, reaching up on your toes without a second thought, laughing at your own attempt. But it floated just out of reach, swaying side to side like it was toying with you and just as you thought you had it, a warm hand reached past your shoulder, catching it effortlessly.

“Got it.” he said, voice low, his breath warm against your ear.

Bucky was right behind you, his chest brushing against your back, and you felt your heart skip a beat as his fingers closed around the delicate stem of the leaf. He slowly drew his hand back, and as you turned, you found yourself face to face with him, his blue eyes fixed on you, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. Just as you reached for it. He held it up, drawing his hand back ever so slightly, holding the leaf just out of reach with a smug glint in his eye. You shot him a look, reaching again, but he raised it even higher, his lips twitching into a smirk.

“Is this what you’re after?” he asked, holding up the leaf between you both teasingly dangling the leaf above your head. His voice was low, his gaze warm, and for a second, the world fell away, leaving just the two of you, standing in the dappled sunlight beneath a canopy of brilliant colors.

“Actually,” you replied, shrugging, trying to play it cool, “just throw it away.”

“Throw it away?” His eyebrow lifted, still holding the leaf just out of reach. “Why’s that?”

You sighed, hoping he wouldn’t catch the faint blush rising to your cheeks. 

“Because,” you muttered, trying to sound dismissive, “if you catch a falling maple leaf, you’re supposed to fall in love with the person you’re walking with. So… throw it away.”

A flicker of surprise passed over his face, followed by a look of curiosity, his smirk softening as he held the leaf up between you.

“Oh really?” he asked, voice low, like he’d just uncovered something unexpectedly fascinating. “Then why did you try to catch it?”

Your mind scrambled, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted, “Because there was a cute guy over there.” You pointed vaguely behind him, your heart hammering with the hope that he’d buy it.

“A cute guy?” He stilled, eyebrows furrowing, his jaw tightening slightly as he turned, his gaze scanning over his shoulder. 

In that split second, you seized the chance, swiping the leaf from his hand and tucking it into your coat pocket just as he turned back around. When he did, his eyes dropped to your hand resting protectively over your pocket, a knowing smile pulling at his lips.

“So… a cute guy, huh?”

You shrugged, trying to sound casual, though the racing in your chest was anything but. “Yup.”

He tilted his head, studying you, a soft chuckle slipping from him, one that you felt more than heard, as if he’d found the whole thing irresistibly charming. He gave a small shake of his head, his eyes still fixed on you, his gaze holding just long enough to make your heart trip.

“Guess I missed him,” he said, his voice carrying a softness that made your stomach flutter.

“Guess you did,” you replied, fighting a grin as you started walking again, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped every time his gaze lingered a little too long.

And as the two of you continued walking, he kept glancing at you, his eyes holding a spark you hadn’t seen before, as if he was seeing right through the playful mask you’d tried to keep up. Then, after a few quiet steps, he looked up again, as if guided by instinct. Another leaf had broken from the trees above, twirling down toward him, and before you could even react, he lifted his hand, fingers closing around it with smooth ease.

You swallowed as he lowered the leaf, holding it between you once again, but this time, the teasing spark in his eyes was gentler, softer, with a warmth that made your breath hitch.

“Got another one,” he said lightly, though his voice was gentle. You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest, the warmth in his eyes undeniable.

“What are you going to do with it?” you managed, voice barely a whisper.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his gaze slipping from the leaf to you. 

“Well,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he stepped closer, slipping the leaf into the pocket of your jacket, his hand brushing yours, lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken. “Guess we should keep this one safe, too.”

His fingers brushed over yours as he pulled his hand away, his touch warm even through the fabric of your coat, and for a moment, he didn’t step back. His eyes held yours, the silence between you electric, his expression softened in a way that made your chest ache.

“Maybe these superstitions aren’t just legends after all,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, the words hanging in the air as his gaze swept over your face, almost as if he were memorizing it.

With a slow, knowing smile that sent a thrill down your spine, he straightened, his hand brushing yours ever so slightly as he turned to keep walking. He only made it a few steps before glancing back, an amused spark in his eye as he looked at you, still standing there, your cheeks warm, your heart racing.

“Well?” he called, his tone a soft invitation. “Are you coming?”

Before you could gather your thoughts, he reached out, taking your hand in his. His fingers intertwined with yours, your smaller hand fitting perfectly in his larger one, his touch warm against the chill in the air. Then, in one smooth, gentle motion, he brought both your hands up and tucked them inside his coat pocket, pulling you closer, the fabric soft and warm around your hand.

You glanced up, caught off guard by the quiet tenderness in his expression. His hand remained steady around yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a subtle, comforting motion as he held you close, shielding your joined hands from the cool autumn breeze.

As you began walking together, his arm tucked protectively around yours, he glanced down at you, a hint of that warm, knowing smile still lingering on his lips. And as his eyes met yours, you felt that spark again, that unspoken promise that this, whatever it was, was only the beginning.

[withleeknow]

seasons of you.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff or at least i hope so lmao, not v edited and literally no one is surprised lol i sound like a broken record atp just adding that into every post word count: 0.7k note: inspired by a highly fucked up thing that @matchannie said to me yesterday lmao it has not left my brain since you said it you absolute monster

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

minho falls in love with you four times a year.

minho falls in love with you in the spring, over blooming cherry blossoms and vibrant daffodils that greet you on your weekly sunset walk. over the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his own without soft fluffy gloves getting in the way, now that it's finally warm enough to retire that extra layer of protection for the season. over the sun coming out of hibernation and filling your days with golden light, falling upon your face and casting you in a magical hue. over the remnants of winter that still leave behind a palpable chill in the air early in the morning or late in the night, that has you reaching out for the comfort of his warmth. over your delighted smile when he brings home a bouquet of tulips after a long day at work. over your glassy eyes, reddened nose and flushed cheeks as he takes care of you when the seasonal allergies kick in.

minho falls in love with you in the summer, over picnics in the park where you both lay on blue gingham picnic blankets, your head on his chest, as you watch the clouds overhead drift peacefully. over watermelon gelatos passed between teasing lips, the confectionary melting too quickly for your liking under the blazing sunlight. over spontaneous drives to the beach even though neither of you can swim, but you go just for fun, just to build sand sculptures in the shape of your cat babies and stand on the edge of the water to splash at each other. over long naps on the couch on days where you're too lazy to venture into the outside heat, preferring to stay cuddled up together under the air conditioner with niki playing in the background.

minho falls in love with you in fall, over shared slices of pumpkin pie as you watch the leaves turn yellow and red right outside your window. over the adorable way you hide your face behind your hands on nights where he puts on a horror movie because he insists on honoring the halloween spirit. over your off-key rendition of taylor swift's all too well (the 10-minute version) for most of the season because you adamantly claim that it's autumn's official anthem. over weekends spent attached at the hip, baking sugar cookies for hours on end. over your crestfallen pout as you take note of how the days keep getting shorter and shorter, already missing warm sunny weeks with all your heart.

minho falls in love with you in winter, over matching scarves and beanies, even though he often has to carry them for you because you have a bad habit of forgetting them before you go out. over the first snow of the season because they say that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you love, then you will stay together for a long, long time. over sweet cuddles in bed as a bad christmas movie plays on tv, and you fall asleep on his shoulder about half an hour into the movie despite being the one to select the movie in the first place. over your return from a shopping spree with your girlfriends with nothing for yourself but everything for soondoongdori, from christmas themed clothes to treats and toys.

but then again, maybe it's not entirely accurate to say that minho falls in love you merely four times a year. if he wants to be precise, then he would say that he falls for you anew every morning he wakes up and sees you asleep in his arms like a delicate miracle granted by a star he once used to wish upon. if he wants to get technical, then he falls in love with you with every smile that you send his way, which is a terribly sappy thing for him to admit but it doesn't make the statement any less true.

minho loves you every day of every week, of every month, of every year. he's loved you before he even met you, when you were just a romanticized idea in his head and hadn't yet walked into his life like the angel he was always meant to find. he loves you every minute of every hour; there isn't a second where you're not on his mind, not a single beat of his heart that doesn't spell out your name. he loves you throughout the seasons and a million times in between.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.04.2024]

[sirenedeslily]

𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 ‎𐦍 𝐦atthew 𝐬turniolo

(⊹ֹ 𝐢𝐧 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 ) ──── ⟢ it’s the 2000s, and in stars hollow, rebellious matt sturniolo, tattooed and brilliant, somehow needs tutoring sessions. yn greenaway, somehow gets pulled into his world of distractions, leaving them both questioning what they really want.

you step off the bus, the cool air of stars hollow brushing your face, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and coffee from luke’s diner. the orange leaves crunch beneath your boots as you make your way down the street, your thoughts wandering. it’s autumn, your favorite time of year. the kind of day that feels like it’s plucked from a movie—a you’ve got mail kind of day. sophie—or soapy, as you call her— is waiting for you by the bus stop, her usual smile in place, earbuds in, head slightly bobbing to a beat you can’t hear.

“hey!” she calls as she pulls out her earbuds, falling into step beside you. she’s wearing a smashing pumpkins t-shirt under a plaid flannel and looks like she just walked out of a 90s grunge concert. classic soapy.

“hey yourself,” you respond, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “what are you listening to?”

“just some early radiohead. you know, getting in my ‘i’m too cool for mainstream music’ vibe,” she teases.

“of course. how very ‘ok computer’ of you.” you grin, tugging at your scarf. “i’m still stuck in the mazzy star phase. i think i’ve had ‘cry, cry’ on repeat for days.”

sophie gives you a mock serious nod. “that’s some deep emotional territory. you planning on staring longingly out a window while it rains?”

“maybe,” you joke, nudging her. “but first, i need to catch up on the weirdness that is stars hollow high. chris apparently got into a fight yesterday?”

“yeah, hockey drama,” she says with a casual wave of her hand. “it’s chris. the guy’s basically made of punches and sports equipment. it’s a wonder he doesn’t just carry around a hockey stick as an accessory.”

“where was matt during all of this?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

sophie shrugs. “nowhere to be seen, as usual. you know matt—here one minute, gone the next. probably off in some corner reading kafka or something, being all mysterious.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips. matthew sturniolo has a way of occupying your mind without even being around. the fact that sophie hasn’t seen him at school recently doesn’t surprise you. he’s always been the brooding type, always disappearing into books, into his own world.

“so, any big plans for today?” sophie asks as you both turn the corner near the town square.

“just the usual. i’m heading to the bookstore later with nick, and then i’ll probably drop by luke’s for cherry danish day, my favourite day! what about you?”

“band practice. dave’s got this crazy idea for a new song that’s somewhere between the smashing pumpkins and the strokes, so… we’ll see how that goes.”

you both laugh, the conversation drifting into casual chatter about school, music, and soapy’s band. eventually, you part ways—she heads to meet her band, and you find yourself walking toward the bookstore.

as you round the corner of the alley that leads to the bookstore, you spot matt sitting on a bench, a paperback in hand, legs stretched out lazily in front of him. his arm, the one covered in tattoos, is draped over the back of the bench, his rings catching the late afternoon light.

you hesitate for a moment, watching him. he looks up, catches your gaze, and smirks in that infuriatingly charming way he does.

“fancy seeing you here,” he says, closing his book without bothering to mark the page.

you cross your arms and approach. “not disappearing into thin air for once? i’m shocked.”

“ah, i have to keep some mystery alive,” he replies with a grin. “besides, i’m right where i want to be.”

his words hang in the air between you, heavy with something unspoken. you swallow and sit beside him on the bench, trying to ignore the way your heart picks up speed. his presence has always done that to you—ever since you first met him.

“so, what are you reading?” you ask, gesturing toward the book.

he glances down at the cover and smirks. “on the road.”

you snort. “of course you are. trying to live out some kerouac fantasy?”

matt chuckles, a low sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “it’s not fantasy, greenaway. it’s more like… preparation.”

“for what?”

he looks at you then, his gaze steady, a little too intense. “for whatever’s next.”

you don’t know what to say to that, so you change the subject. “chris got into a fight at school yesterday.”

matt shakes his head. “yeah, heard about that. not surprising. chris has always been a hothead. someone probably looked at him wrong.”

you laugh softly, and for a moment, it feels easy—just sitting here with him, like old times. before the weird tension, before you started noticing the way his voice softened when he said your name, or how he seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once.

“i should get going,” you say, standing up and brushing off your chilton uniform. “nick’s waiting for me at the bookstore.”

matt stands too, stuffing his book into his jacket pocket. “don’t stay away too long, greenaway.”

there it is again—that weight in his words, something that makes your heart skip. you nod, unsure of what to say, and walk away, feeling his eyes on you until you disappear into the bookstore.

later, when you get home, sophie is already there with her band, setting up in the living room like it’s her personal practice space. dave rygalski is tuning his guitar, and you catch the faint scent of takeout wafting through the house.

“soapy, you’ve officially turned my living room into a recording studio,” you say, dropping your bag by the door.

“you’re welcome!” she calls over her shoulder. “we’re just waiting for your mom to get back with food.”

as if on cue, elle walks through the door, juggling several bags of takeout. “dinner is served!” she announces, smiling in that casual, effortless way she has.

you help her set the food on the kitchen counter, chatting about your day as sophie and the band argue over the tempo of a song. it’s loud, chaotic, and yet it feels completely normal.

not long after, your dad, spencer, walks in, his usual stack of books tucked under one arm, glasses perched on his nose. “what’s all the noise?”

“band practice,” you say, smiling as he surveys the scene. “it’s always band practice.”

spencer nods thoughtfully, like the existence of a band in his living room is something he’s fully prepared for. “well, carry on.”

dinner at the reid-greenaway household is filled with laughter and teasing, as it always is. elle asks about school, spencer throws in the occasional trivia fact, and the noise of the band practicing in the background creates a comfortable soundtrack to the evening.

eventually, the night winds down, and you find yourself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the memory of matt on that bench. his words echo in your head, mingling with the soft hum of ‘fade into you’ that plays in the background.

it’s saturday morning, and you’re walking down the familiar streets of stars hollow with “there she goes” playing on your old walkman. the sun’s just breaking through the clouds, bathing everything in a golden autumn glow. the crunch of leaves under your feet sets the rhythm as you make your way to luke’s, where a coffee run is a sacred ritual.

the bell jingles as you push open the door, and the warm, coffee-scented air greets you like an old friend. luke’s is bustling with early risers, and you make a beeline for the counter where luke is busy pouring coffee.

“mornin’, yn,” luke says in his usual gruff yet familiar tone, already reaching for three to-go coffee cups. he doesn’t need to ask what you’re ordering—three coffees to go is basically your weekend tradition.

“morning, luke,” you reply, slipping off your headphones. “you know the drill. extra caffeine. life-saving, consciousness-reviving levels of caffeine. honestly, i should just hook it up to an iv at this point.”

“you kids are gonna od on this stuff one day,” he mutters, but there’s a small smile tugging at his lips.

lorelai, seated at the counter, overhears and gives you a mischievous grin. “ah, the youth of stars hollow. running on pure caffeine and dreams. it’s like watching the next generation of me.”

you smirk. “i prefer to think of it as highly efficient multitasking.”

luke hands you the first cup of coffee. “you mean procrastinating on real work?”

you give him a mock-serious nod. “luke, when have i ever deceived you about the importance of procrastination?”

lorelai leans over, clearly entertained. “see? she gets it. chilton pressure plus caffeine equals survival.”

“don’t encourage her,” luke grumbles, handing you the next two coffees.

“too late!” you and lorelai say in unison, laughing.

with the tray of coffees in hand, you wave a quick goodbye. “thanks, luke! see you tomorrow for round two.”

as you step back outside, the cool air hits your face, and you continue your walk, heading toward the bakery. the sign above the door reads sweet street, the sturniolo family’s cozy little spot. as you approach, you hear the familiar sounds of sophie in deep debate with jimmy.

“i’m telling you, ‘siamese dream’ is the smashing pumpkins’ best album. it’s got the perfect balance of angst and melody!” sophie insists, her eyes wide with passion as she gestures animatedly.

jimmy, leaning against the counter, raises an eyebrow. “i don’t know, ‘mellon collie’ has its merits. it’s more experimental, shows growth.”

you push open the door and walk in, shaking your head with a grin. “if i had a nickel for every time i walked in on you two arguing about music…”

sophie turns, her eyes immediately locking onto the coffee tray in your hands. “you got my coffee, right? precisely how i like it?”

you hand her the cup with a deadpan expression. “in our years of friendship, when have i ever deceived you?”

sophie smirks, taking a sip. “true. you’re as dependable as jimmy’s music takes.”

“thank you for that… i think,” jimmy mutters, rolling his eyes but smiling all the same. he grabs a bag from behind the counter and hands it to sophie. “here, muffins for the road. you two are going to need fuel for your record store adventures.”

“jimmy, you are a saint among men,” sophie says dramatically, clutching the bag to her chest.

just then, marylou emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. her eyes light up when she sees you. “yn! i’m so glad you’re here. got a second?”

you exchange a glance with sophie, who raises an eyebrow. “uh-oh, that sounds ominous,” she says.

“i need a favour,” marylou says, leaning against the counter with a sigh.

you set down the coffee tray, immediately wary. “what kind of favour?”

marylou glances at soapy, who’s now munching on a muffin, before turning back to you. “it’s about matt.”

your stomach drops a little. “oh boy.”

“he’s been skipping school,” marylou says, her voice lowering. “a lot of school. stars hollow high is threatening to kick him out if he keeps it up.”

you blink, trying to wrap your head around it. “but he’s… matt. he knows more about hemingway and faulkner than half the population.”

“i know,” marylou says, exasperated. “but he’s not showing it in school. his grades are tanking, and… i thought, maybe, if you tutored him, you could get through to him. he listens to you.”

you glance at sophie, who’s smirking over her muffin, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the situation. “why me?” you ask, incredulous. “i’m not exactly on matt’s top ten list of people to hang out with.”

marylou gives you that mom look—the one that’s equal parts pleading and expectant. “he only seems to care about what you have to say. plus, you’re brilliant. you’re like your dad.”

you squirm a little under the weight of the compliment. “i don’t know, marylou. i mean, tutoring matt? what if he doesn’t even show up?”

“please,” marylou says, her eyes wide with hope. “you’re the only one i can trust with this. i’m running out of options.”

before you can say anything, you hear footsteps from upstairs, and nick comes down, his camera slung over his shoulder. he spots the coffee tray and grins. “ah, lifesaver! thanks, yn,” he says, grabbing his cup.

“ready to hit the record store?” sophie asks, stuffing the last bit of muffin into her mouth.

nick nods. “yeah, if we leave now, we can catch that new shipment kirk was talking about.”

you’re just about to grab your stuff when marylou gives you one last look. “yn, please. just think about it sweetheart, okay?”

you bite your lip, feeling a little torn. “i’ll think about it, i promise.”

with that, the three of you head out of the bakery, the cool autumn air swirling around you once again. as you walk, the conversation shifts to records and music, but your mind is still on matt, skipping school, and the weight of marylou’s request hanging over you like the last leaf clinging to a tree.

as you, nick, and sophie make your way through stars hollow, the crisp autumn air fills your lungs. leaves scatter across the street in shades of amber and crimson, a constant reminder that fall has fully settled in. the three of you are bundled up, coffees from luke’s in hand, weaving through the familiar streets toward your destination—the record store.

“tutoring matt,” soapy says, breaking the comfortable silence with a dramatic scoff. “i mean, it’s like trying to give life advice to a james dean character—lots of sulking, a cigarette somewhere, and an existential crisis about algebra. or better yet it’s like asking me to explain quantum physics to kirk. it makes no sense.”

nick lags behind, fiddling with his camera, capturing shots of the early fall leaves against the old buildings. “honestly, matt might actually listen to you. i’ve tried the whole ‘big brother’ speech, but he’s slippery.”

“too busy with his ‘rebel without a cause’ routine,” you quip. “i get it, geometry’s the enemy.”

nick chuckles as he snaps another picture. “it’s not just that. it’s like he’s checked out. he doesn’t care anymore. chris has his hockey, i have my photography, but matt… matt just floats.”

“floating,” sophie repeats, swirling her hand in a swooping motion. “that’s the sturniolo brand.”

you smirk but feel the weight of it. “and i’m supposed to ground him?”

“exactly, baby!” sophie says, throwing her arm around your shoulders.

nick snickers, adjusting the strap of his ever-present camera. “i mean, it makes a little sense. you’re the one who got him through that faulkner essay freshman year. and let’s not forget, matt knows more about ‘the sun also rises’ than our actual english teacher. he just doesn’t care about school.”

you shake your head, still trying to wrap your mind around Marylou’s request. “yeah, but tutoring matters is different. the guy reads moby dick for fun but won’t show up for class.”

sophie rolls her eyes. “maybe he’s like, secretly a genius. he’s too cool for high school, but deep down, he’s panicking that he won’t get into a college for misunderstood literary bad boys.”

you laugh. “that doesn’t sound like him. he’s more like ‘i don’t care about anything because everything is boring.’ why does it have to be me? he probably doesn’t even care about my existence.”

nick raises an eyebrow, giving you a knowing look. “are we talking about the same matthew here? because he definitely cares about your existence.. about you. he literally asked you about your thoughts on nietzsche last week, and we all know that’s basically his way of flirting.”

you blink at him, flustered. “that’s not flirting. that’s matt being… well matt.”

sophie grins, walking backward in front of you, her boots crunching against the fallen leaves. “oh, please. the guy’s got that ‘i’m too brooding for feelings, but maybe i’ll make an exception for you’ thing going on. i bet tutoring him will be just like dangerous minds but with more existential angst.”

you roll your eyes, taking a sip of your coffee. “you both are reading way too much into this.”

but before you can dwell on the idea of matt being interested in anything—or anyone—you approach the familiar, worn-down exterior of the stars hollow record store. the place smells like old vinyl and nostalgia, and as you push the door open, you hear the familiar chime of the bell above.

kirk is manning the counter, diligently arranging records in alphabetical order with the concentration of someone assembling a nuclear bomb. “ah, the trio returns! i assume you’re here for your usual eclectic mix of ‘stuff kirk doesn’t understand but pretends to be into.’” he greets, barely looking up from his work.

you smile as you make your way over to the bins. “you know us so well, kirk.”

sophie immediately makes a beeline for the indie section, eyes gleaming with determination. “i need some early pixies or maybe sleater-kinney. jenna—uh, someone i know—said it’s life-changing.”

nick raises an eyebrow at her slip. “you can say her name, you know. we all know you’re obsessed with jenna ortega.”

sophie, blushing but undeterred, begins flipping through the records. “i’m not obsessed. i’m… highly focused.”

you and nick exchange a glance before bursting into laughter. “highly focused, huh? you’ve been strategizing your next run-in with her for days,” you tease.

“she works at the theater!” sophie defends herself. “i’m just doing recon. casual recon. my plan is flawless—show up during the Friday night rush, bump into her, spill my drink—oops!—and then heroically offer to replace it. classic rom-com setup.”

nick shakes his head, grinning. “yeah, because nothing says ‘i’m interested’ like spilling soda all over someone.”

“you’re one to talk,” sophie shoots back. “mr. ‘i shared ice cream with dave at the founder’s day picnic and still haven’t made a move.’ what are your plans pretty boy?” nick’s face flushes immediately, and he ducks behind his camera, pretending to take a picture of the counter. “no moves. no plans. nothing.”

soapy cackles. “liar! you totally like him. what was it he said to you during the stars hollow harvest festival? something about ‘nice camera work’?”

nick groans. “he said he liked my composition, okay? it’s not a big deal.”

“right,” you tease, pulling out a talking heads record. “and then he asked you for your favorite lens, which is basically code for ‘i think you’re cute.’”

nick rolls his eyes. “that was… nothing. plus it’s complicated i mean lane literally dumped him not too long ago and not to mention the fact that it’s the early 2000s. i don’t even know if he’s into guys. i mean, what am i supposed to do? just ask him out at the town square while taylor’s running the pie-eating contest?”

you sigh rummaging through the sundays records. “just don’t overthink it, okay? dave’s cool. you’re cool. stars hollow’s already the weirdest place on earth, so who cares?”

nick lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. “it’s not that simple. what if i make a move and it ruins everything? we have a good thing going right now. i don’t want to screw that up.”

sophie claps a hand on his shoulder. “just go in there with a plan. spill a drink, offer to replace it—works every time.”

kirk, who’s been listening intently while alphabetizing records, chimes in, “i once spilled milk on lulu’s book at the library. now we’re dating. so, yeah, maybe it works.”

the three of you exchange bemused glances before bursting into laughter. “thanks for the tip, kirk,” you manage between giggles.

“maybe. i don’t know. i guess i’m just not as bold as soapy over here with her grand schemes.” nick exclaims going back to their previous conversation.

sophie waves him off, pretending to be absorbed in her record search. “don’t worry. when jenna and i are dating and being all adorable together, you’ll be inspired by my brilliance. we’ll double-triple date! me and jenna, you and dave, yn and matt. picture it.”

nick rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling now. “right. because triple dating with jenna ortega and my triplet brother sounds so realistic.”

“dream big, nick. dream big,” sophie replies, holding up a copy of surfer rosa triumphantly before heading to the counter.

kirk glances at the record soapy’s holding with raised eyebrows. “sleater-kinney isn’t for everyone, you know.”

“oh, trust me, it’s for me,” sophie responds, placing it on the counter with a grin.

as she finishes paying, you and nick continue to browse, flipping through records more for the vibe than anything else. but as you shuffle through the vinyls, you can’t help but think back to your conversation about matt. nick and soapy’s teasing aside, you know that tutoring matt could be… complicated. but there’s something about the idea that draws you in.

nick, picking up a fleetwood mac album, glances over at you. “so, are you going to do it? tutor matt, i mean.”

you sigh, half distracted by the thought. “i don’t know. it feels like a lot. he’s barely in school as it is, and i’ve got chilton, my dad’s constant pressure, and now this. i’m not even sure he wants help.”

nick shrugs, putting the record back on the shelf. “maybe he just needs someone to push him. and let’s be real, you’re probably the only person in town who can.”

“yeah, because ‘pushing’ matt sounds like a great idea,” you mutter. “it’ll probably end with him dropping out entirely and moving to paris to write nihilistic poetry.”

sophie returns from the counter, bag in hand, still riding the high of her record purchase. “look, yn, you’re the only person who even remotely gets matt. and if he’s not showing up to class or trying in school, maybe that’s because no one’s ever made it interesting for him. you’re different. you could get him to care.”

you let out a laugh, though it’s tinged with uncertainty. “or he’ll make my life miserable.”

nick smiles gently, a rare seriousness in his expression. “or maybe he’ll surprise you.”

you glance at your friends, feeling the weight of their encouragement, but still unsure. the idea of spending more time with matt is… intimidating, in more ways than one.

“i’ll think about it,” you say, but deep down, you already know your answer.

heading back from the record store, you spot dave rygalski crossing the street. nick freezes for a split second before quickly pretending to adjust his camera, but it’s too late—you and soapy already noticed.

“there’s your chance,” sophie whispers with a sly grin.

nick groans. “goodbye, ladies,” he mutters, clearly flustered.

you and sophie exchange a laugh as nick hurries off, and after a few more jokes, you all say your goodbyes and head your separate ways. by the time you’re alone, you’ve made up your mind: tutoring matt might not be so bad. worst-case, he throws a few sarcastic comments, and you both call it a day.

that evening, after a quiet dinner with your parents—spencer lost in some case files and elle chatting about her day at the bau—you head up to your room, prepared for a low-key night. but, as you’re about to settle into bed with your latest book, your phone buzzes.

it’s a text from matt.

still up for tutoring me?

you stare at the message, momentarily stunned. somehow, the fact that he’s actually asking you makes it all feel a little more real. a little more personal.

yeah, when? you type back, fingers moving faster than your brain can catch up.

tomorrow night?

you chew on your bottom lip, considering. tomorrow’s Sunday—usually a good day for catching up on homework, so why not?

okay. my place?

a pause. then, sure. see you at 7.

you toss your phone onto your bed, your heart doing that weird thing again—the fluttering thing it does when matt’s name pops up on your screen.

the next day passes in a blur of homework and chores, but by the time 7 p.m. rolls around, you’re sitting at your desk, textbooks and notes laid out, waiting for matt to show up. you tell yourself it’s just tutoring, nothing more. just helping out a friend who, for some reason, can’t keep up with school. simple.

but when the knock comes at the door, and you open it to find matt standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, you feel anything but simple.

“hey,” he says, his voice low, his eyes flicking briefly to your stack of books before landing back on you.

“hey,” you manage, stepping aside to let him in. he brushes past you, and you catch the faint scent of his cologne—something subtle, but distinctly matt.

“you sure about this?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow as he glances around your room. “i’m kind of a lost cause.”

“don’t be dramatic,” you say, rolling your eyes as you sit down at your desk. “you’re not a lost cause. just… distracted.”

“distracted,” he echoes, a hint of amusement in his voice as he drops his bag by the desk and sits on your bed, looking far too comfortable for someone who’s supposedly in need of academic help.

you shoot him a look. “yeah, distracted. now, come on, i’m serious. we need to figure out why you’re failing.”

he shrugs, leaning back against your headboard, one arm draped casually across his lap, the other—the tattooed one—resting on the bed beside him, fingers playing with one of the many rings he wears. “what can i say? school doesn’t exactly hold my interest.”

you sigh, exasperated but not surprised. “okay, but if you don’t pass, it’s going to cause all kinds of problems down the line. you’ve got to at least pretend to care.”

he gives you a half-smirk. “maybe i need someone to make me care.”

the comment is so typical of him, and yet, the way he says it makes your heart skip a beat. you stare at him for a moment, unsure whether he’s being serious or just trying to get under your skin. it’s always hard to tell with matt.

“well, i’m not here to play therapist,” you finally say, flipping open his english textbook. “so, how about we start with the great gatsby?”

matt groans but swings his legs off the bed and drags himself to the desk, pulling up a chair beside you. “fine. but only because i like gatsby.”

you raise an eyebrow. “oh yeah? what do you like about it?”

he leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, and looks at you with that intense gaze of his. “i like that gatsby’s not really a hero. he’s flawed, but he’s still this larger-than-life figure. everyone’s drawn to him, even though he’s broken inside.”

there’s a beat of silence after he speaks, and you feel the weight of his words, like he’s not really talking about gatsby at all. you look at him, but he’s already flipping through the pages of the textbook, like he didn’t just say something that makes your chest ache a little.

you clear your throat and focus on the book. “okay. well, let’s talk about the symbolism in chapter four—”

but matt interrupts you. “do we have to? i mean, do you really think fitzgerald was sitting there, thinking, ‘i’m gonna put a green light in here to mess with students 70 years from now’?”

you laugh despite yourself. “yes, actually. i think fitzgerald lived for that kind of thing.”

he smirks, leaning back in his chair. “‘course you would.”

you nudge his arm playfully, trying to ignore the way his casual smirk makes your heart race. “focus, sturniolo. we’re here to get you passing, not to debate the merits of literary analysis.”

“right, right,” he says, but his tone is teasing, and he seems more interested in distracting you than actually working.

for the next hour, you try to guide him through his homework, but matt being matt, he keeps finding ways to sidetrack the conversation. one minute, you’re talking about nick carraway’s unreliable narration, and the next, he’s asking if you’ve ever been to new york, spinning some story about how he’s planning to move there one day, maybe open a bookshop, maybe just live in some crummy apartment and write.

“you could come with me, you know,” he says at one point, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

you laugh, shaking your head. “matt, you don’t even know if you’re going to graduate.”

he grins. “details. minor details.”

by the time you finally get him to finish one of his assignments, it’s already late, and you’re more frustrated than you care to admit. matt’s leaning back in his chair, watching you with that same infuriating smirk, and you can tell he knows exactly how he’s been pushing your buttons.

“you’re impossible, you know that?” you say, crossing your arms as you stand up, glaring at him in mock-annoyance.

he stands up too, but instead of backing down, he steps closer, closing the gap between you. “i thought you liked a challenge.”

your breath catches in your throat, the teasing banter suddenly shifting into something heavier, something more charged. he’s so close now that you can see the faint flecks of silver in his blue eyes, the curve of his lips as they quirk up in that signature smirk.

“i do,” you whisper, before you can stop yourself.

the space between you seems to shrink, and for a second, you think he’s going to kiss you. and then—he does.

it’s soft at first, almost tentative, but then his hand finds the small of your back, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepens. your heart races, your mind spinning as you kiss him back, losing yourself in the moment. his lips are warm and sure, and everything about it feels so right, even though you know it shouldn’t.

when you finally pull back, you’re both breathing hard, and matt’s looking at you with something like surprise in his eyes, like he wasn’t expecting this either.

“i—” you start, but you don’t know what to say.

“don’t,” he murmurs, his voice low. “don’t ruin it.”

you nod, still caught up in the haze of the kiss, and for a moment, you’re not sure if you’re standing on solid ground anymore.

matt pulls away then, running a hand through his hair, looking almost sheepish. “i should go.”

“yeah,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “okay.”

but as he turns to leave, you can’t shake the feeling that something just shifted between you—something big, and irreversible.

and somehow, you know things between you and matt sturniolo will never be the same again.

𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ gilmore girls au how we feelin?!?! i really tried to make the dialogue and energy as similar to the show as possible so please don’t ask me about half of the references cause i just went on google fr 😭😭 5.1k wc and i know not much really happened but idc i live for the trio :3 pls talk to me in da inbox

❝ 𝟐𝟐𝟐 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @eternaldecisions @elizabebabe

❝ 𝟑𝟑𝟑 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @l34n @sturniolossss @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @mattscoquette @chratts-left-ball @jetaimevous @angelesqve @starlace111 @fawnchives @starkeyszn @etherealval @slut4chriss

© sirenedeslily

[dee-writes-angst]

Hopping, Hopeful Hounds (Eris Week Day Four)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x Reader

SUMMARY Eris' peaceful proposal doesn't go as planned thanks to his excited pack of hounds

CONTENT WARNINGS just people getting tackled by dogs, the only pure fluff you'll ever see from me LMAO

AUTHORS NOTE happy day four @erisweekofficial!!! I'm early today, gotta give myself a pat on the back for that one. Any whoooo, today is tradition and hounds, hope you enjoy!

The crisp air of the Autumn Court was scented with the rich fragrance of falling leaves, the last hues of daylight casting everything in a golden-orange glow. You stood at the edge of the forest, arms wrapped around yourself as you watched the gentle sway of the trees, the ground beneath your feet blanketed in amber and russet leaves. It was peaceful, almost too quiet for a place so alive, but that peace settled into you, grounding you in the moment.

Eris had invited you here, to this quiet part of the Autumn woods, and while you didn’t know why, you didn’t question it. There was always something calming about the time you spent together, especially here, in the forests you both loved. His presence brought you comfort, a warmth that wrapped around you just as gently as the autumn breeze.

Footsteps crunched softly behind you, and you turned to see Eris approaching, his red hair glowing like fire in the golden light. There was something different about him today—a certain nervousness in his step, a glint in his amber eyes that had you tilting your head in curiosity.

He stopped a few feet away, giving you one of his crooked smiles. “You’ve always loved this place, haven’t you?”

“I have,” you said softly, letting your gaze drift around the forest again. “It feels like home in a way.”

Eris stepped closer, his hands sliding into his pockets as he watched you. “It’s always been that way for me too,” he murmured. “Especially with you here.”

You raised an eyebrow, sensing the weight behind his words but unsure what he was leading to. The gentle teasing he usually employed was absent, replaced by a sincerity that made your heart beat just a little faster.

“Eris—”

But before you could ask him what was going on, he took a deep breath and, to your shock, dropped down on one knee. Your breath hitched, your eyes widening as you realized what was happening.

“(Y/N),” he began, his voice warm and steady, “I’ve spent my whole life thinking I didn’t deserve happiness. That love was something other people could have, but not me. But then… then you came into my life, and everything changed.”

Your heart fluttered as you stared down at him, a million thoughts racing through your mind, but you were frozen in place, overwhelmed by the weight of the moment.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he continued, his eyes soft and filled with an emotion that took your breath away. “I love you, and I can’t imagine a future without you by my side.”

Just as he reached for something in his coat pocket—presumably a ring—you heard a sound that broke the solemn air. It was a deep bark, followed by the unmistakable rustle of paws against the forest floor. Your head whipped around just in time to see Eris’s hounds barreling toward him at full speed, their large bodies moving with all the grace of excited puppies.

“No, no, wait—!” Eris barely had time to shout before the first of the hounds tackled him, knocking him flat on his back with a loud thud. You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth as the rest of the hounds eagerly joined in, piling on top of him in a flurry of wagging tails, wet noses, and happy barks.

The sight was so absurdly comical that you couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. Eris, his face somewhere beneath the mound of fur, let out a groan, though there was no real frustration in his voice.

“I was in the middle of something important, you little terrors,” he muttered, struggling to sit up as one of the hounds licked his face eagerly.

You couldn’t stop laughing, tears forming in your eyes as you knelt beside the pile of dogs, doing your best to help Eris untangle himself from his furry companions. The hounds, completely oblivious to the seriousness of the situation, only seemed more excited by your laughter, their tails wagging even harder.

After a few moments, Eris managed to sit up, his hair a mess and his expression somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “This wasn’t exactly how I pictured this going,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips despite the chaos.

You finally managed to stop laughing long enough to speak. “Maybe it’s better this way,” you teased, brushing a lock of his tousled hair out of his face.

His amber eyes softened as he looked up at you, still on one knee, even with the hounds clumsily nudging at him for attention. He held out the small box he’d somehow managed to keep safe during the ambush and opened it, revealing a simple yet elegant ring, sparkling in the fading light.

“Will you marry me?” he asked again, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable.

Your heart swelled as you gazed down at him, surrounded by the love he had for his hounds, the love he was offering to you. And in that moment, nothing felt more right.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Of course I will.”

As soon as the word “yes” left your lips, the smile on Eris's face was brilliant, almost blinding in the soft light of the Autumn Court. Before you had time to fully process the moment, he pulled you into his arms, still kneeling, wrapping you up in a warm, firm embrace. The hounds circled around, their excitement palpable as they barked and wagged their tails wildly.

You barely had a second to savor the feel of his arms around you before something heavy collided with your back.

Another hound—then two, then three—threw themselves against you, tackling you both in their joy. You let out a surprised yelp as you were sent tumbling forward, right on top of Eris. The two of you collapsed onto the forest floor in a tangle of limbs and fur, laughter bubbling up from deep within your chest.

Eris groaned dramatically beneath you, though you could see the laughter twinkling in his eyes as he lay beneath the weight of you and his boisterous hounds.

"Really? Now they go after you too?" he teased, his voice strained under the pile of dogs enthusiastically licking your faces.

You were laughing so hard you could hardly respond, your sides aching from both the impact and the hilarity of the moment. One particularly large hound licked your cheek, its tail wagging so hard that it nearly knocked over another one of its companions. The pile of fur and limbs wriggled with excitement, completely oblivious to the fact that they had just interrupted one of the most important moments of your life.

“I guess they wanted to make sure I wasn’t getting away after I said yes!” you managed to gasp between giggles, your face buried against Eris’s chest as the dogs continued their excited assault.

Eris chuckled, his arms wrapping around you tightly, pulling you closer despite the chaos. “You’re definitely not getting away now,” he said, his voice soft but full of warmth. “Not from me.”

One of the hounds let out a happy bark as if in agreement, and the rest of them seemed to settle down, content to simply be there in the moment with the two of you. You finally looked up at Eris, your face flushed from laughing so hard, and saw the way he was gazing at you—like you were his entire world, chaos and all.

With the hounds still playfully nuzzling into the two of you, Eris leaned up, brushing his lips against your forehead with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

“You’ve made me the happiest male alive,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sounds of the forest and the contented huffs of his hounds.

You smiled, resting your head against his chest as the weight of the hounds pressed down on both of you, the forest quieting around you as the last traces of sunlight filtered through the trees.

“I think I’m the luckiest,” you murmured, glancing around at the mess of dogs and leaves that now surrounded you both.

Eris let out a soft laugh, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he looked down at you. “Welcome to life with me and the pack,” he teased.

And as you lay there in the cool autumn breeze, tangled up in love, laughter, and fur, you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

ERIS WEEK TAGLIST

@littlest-w01f @mp-littlebit

[fruitjoos]

it’s fall, so the leaves are turning…

patrick zweig x reader

summary: in which you and patrick can feel yourselves drift apart. find part two here!

warnings none

the apartment felt empty, the kind of silence that carries weight. autumn air threaded through the cracked window, a quiet chill that settled in the corners of the room. the television hummed, low and unimportant, its flickering light the only movement, but your eyes stayed glued to it, more out of habit than focus. you lay stretched on the couch, body distant, mind elsewhere. the stillness was palpable.

patrick shuffled across the carpet, his steps barely audible, almost as if he were trying not to disturb something fragile. he stood over you, hesitant, the blanket held close to his chest like a shield. “can i…?” he murmured, voice gentle, uncertain. you nodded, a simple motion, offering no more than that. he climbed onto the couch, settling his head on your stomach, his face pressed against your skin like an anchor.

his warmth should’ve comforted you, but it felt more like a weight now, something heavier than it used to be. his cheek rested against you, soft but searching, as if he was trying to find something lost in the closeness that no longer felt like home. you both knew it wasn’t the same, but the knowing hung between you, unspoken and suffocating.

your hand moved absently, fingers threading through his curls, familiar in the way a habit is familiar. you grazed your lips over his hair, a hollow gesture, one you weren’t sure you meant anymore. the motions were all there, but the feeling had drifted, slipping further every day, and you could sense it. he could sense it, too.

his body trembled slightly, a shiver that wasn’t from the cold. and then you felt it. a tear, warm and solitary, spilling onto your skin. he didn’t make a sound, but the weight of it was deafening. he was holding on, pressing himself closer, as if the closeness could reverse the quiet unraveling between you.

but you had already begun to slip away, your heart inching toward a distance you couldn’t explain, a space he couldn’t fill no matter how tight he held on. the letting go had already begun, and you both felt the slow, inevitable drift, like watching a ship disappear into the fog.

[cherrylired]

🕷 ˗ˏˋKinich Spiderman AU pt. 2ˎˊ˗ 🕷

———————-

ONE person asked for part 2 and I DELIVERED 😋. @akiradoesstuff hope you enjoy this chapter hehe <3

Word count : 1.3k

————————

“MISS OVER HERE!!”, you hear a man shout. “WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT SPIDERMAN??”, another one did. Flashing lights of cameras and constant shouts were thrown at you. All of their voices mixed together, all you could hear is Spiderman. This whole situation overwhelmed you. Just trying to go to work, but Spidermans sudden rise in popularity made it almost impossible. Everyone tried everything to get more information on the mysterious hero.

Unfortunately for you, a near by cctv camera captured him saving you perfectly. Nosey reporters lined up all the way to your workplace. It really confused you, how should you know anything about him by just one small interaction??? As if he dropped his ID right in front of you and so happened to remember name, age, address, who his mom is, who his dad is. “Seriously, get a live…” the amount of annoyance in your voice scared any reporter away from you. Even the really pushy ones.

You sit down at your desk, sighing.

“Man those reporters wont leave our spider-girl alone, huh?”, your work friend, Mualani, looked at you amused. “It’s actually not funny— that harassment.”, you mumbled with a pout on your face. Mualani proceeded to set a cup of coffee down at your desk with a apologetic smile. “But seriously, how was he..?”, she looked at you with big, curious eyes, “you haven’t lost a single word about him, just about the press…”, she sat down at the desk right across from you, throwing you a teasing grin. “Did he swoon you when he swooped in?”, she laughed at her own joke.

“Don’t be ridiculous, i don’t even know what he looks like..”, you scoffed, but had to smile because of Mualanis playful nature. You took a sip of your coffee, zoned out, voices and sounds fading into the background.

You were in denial.

Over the past days, the only thing in that brain of yours was Spiderman. His arm wrapped around you- his strong grip- his slightly awkward demeanor- super athletic body- the way he smiled- he seemed like a gentleman, checking on you twice if you were really ok- that you were not hurt. Your mind was racing. You kept replaying it your head, over and over. It felt silly to you. You didn’t know anything about him. ‘I blame the lack of romance in my life’, you kept thinking to yourself. You felt stupid for falling this easily. Honestly, who does that???

Your mind kept drifting during work, causing you to stay in longer just to get your tasks done in time. It was already dark outside. Leaning back into your chair, hand on your aching head you look around the empty office. “Whats the point..”, you sit back up right, closing your laptop. He was still on your mind.

Sighing you got up, packing everything up, even now you couldn’t get him out of your head, it was getting annoying honesty. Right when you were putting on your jacket and leave, you hear the windows rattle a little, as if a strong wind just came by? Were you imagining things now? With a suspicious look on your face, you left the room. You were not about to risk your life if a burglar got into the office.

With quick and lightly uneasy steps you walked outside, the cool autumn air swirling around your nose. Another sigh left your lips as you took a step toward home. Maybe it was your lack of sleep but something felt off.

“There you are, I thought you’d never leave that building.”, you heard a familiar voice. You looked around, but saw no one? Were your imaginations getting this bad?? Were you hearing him too now??? “Heyy, up here!”, his voice was teasing, you could practically hear him grin.

You looked up, eyes widening a little. Spiderman. He sat on the sun-cover that framed the door to the office. You were never this happy and excited to see anyone before, he waited for you? How long? The thought of him actively seeking you out made your heart skip a beat.

“What are you doing here..?”, your head tilted like a confused puppy, but you couldn’t help but smile. He hesitated for a moment, he seemed a little taken aback? You couldn’t read his emotions with that mask on. “Uhm…”, he snapped back into reality, “I saw the reporters this morning.. i wanted to apologize..”, he said seriously. Before you could say anything, he jumped off, landing right in front of you, making you jolt back a little. “It’s not really your fault tho..”, you could only mumble, turning your face away from him. His presence felt overwhelming. Seeing him up-close again felt surreal. Were you dreaming?? Was this actually real?

You felt like a teenager talking to her hallway crush- you couldn’t quite figure out if you liked it or not. “I know, I know.”, you could hear him grin again, while he put his hands behind his head, “i still want to make it up to you… want a ride home?”, he tiled his head while reaching out his arm. You looked at him again. His eyes narrowed into a smile. God you could just melt away. “Uhm.. yeah, sure!!”, you tried acting all nonchalant- as if he isn’t the only thing you thought about. The desire to feel his arms around you again— he got you good.

Right when you thought it, he pulled you close, web shooting out as he grinned, “hold on tight, pretty.” Before you could process, he swung off with you, making you involuntarily squeal, quickly wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. You hear him laugh a little as he lands on a rooftop. “Your address?”, he asked curiously. Without a second thought you told him, not even considering the possibility of him being a danger to you.

He nodded and continued swinging his way to your flat, settling on the fire-escape stairs that covered the facade of your apartment building. “Thank you..”, you mumbled, legs feeling like jello, hands shaking a little. Your hair was all over the place, the sight was a little funny to him. But this was way too much adrenaline. You hoped he drives better than he swings around. You heard his laugh again, making your heart skip a beat. He carefully let go of you, smiling. “You look a bit pale, swinging around like this isn’t for you, hm?”, he asked, while climbing onto the edge of the railing. “I feel nauseous..”, you admit, holding your head.

The butterflies in your stomach didn’t help at all, you already missed his touch- it was almost stupid what big of a crush you bad on him. “Im sorry…”, he seemed genuinely concerned for you as he reached out his hand, putting it on your head, stroking your hair for a little. You honestly wanted to lean into his embrace so badly, the way he touched you was the most tender you had ever experienced. He pulled back, leaving a tingling sensation behind.

“Next time, I’ll be more careful! Ok pretty?”, he winked at you as he shot out his web. You just nodded, too stunned to speak. He waved you goodbye, then swung off into the night. You stood there, his touch still lingering, you place your hand on your head, where his has just been, smiling a little. “…”, your eyes widen as you thought back on what he said. “Wait!! Next time??!!!!”, you rush to the railing, he was of course, long gone. You sigh, opening the window to step inside your apartment, dragging yourself to your bed, falling onto it. Your heart was pounding, not sure if it was from the lingering adrenaline or his actions. You kept repeating one word in your mind, taking a pillow next to you and just screaming “HE THINKS IM PRETTY???????”, into it. Safe to say, it was a restless night.

[cherimoyatea]

❧ Rafayel - Hidden Glow

Pairing: Rafayel x You Synopsis: A stroll through the park becomes gloomier than you planned as Rafayel finds himself trapped in his thoughts. Word Count: 747 Tags: rafayel's love for nature, a brief mention of his lore, deep thoughts, autumn Side Notes: So, after the mini-series ended, I planned on writing something more cheerful, but it ended up being deeper than I expected. Maybe it's really just the change of seasons ahaha... Snowberries are pretty common where I live: I remember looking them up for a school project during my teens and falling in love with the poetic duality of the fruit. Still think about it whenever I come across them. Caution: They're highly toxic!

''Do you know how snowberries got their name?''

You watch Rafayel as he walks over to the bushes with the white berries, gently taking a cluster of the fruits between his long fingers.

The warm sun has drawn many visitors to the city park on this cool autumn weekend, and you immediately agreed when your partner asked if you would like to go for a walk.

Curiously, you step closer to him, observing the white berries among the now sparsely covered branches. ''Let me think... because they're white?'' You respond with a smile, watching intently as he carefully picks one snowberry from the bushes near the path.

You already know that there is more behind his question. The answer would be too easy to guess.

Rafayel returns your smile faintly and rolls the berry between his thumb and forefinger, before holding it up against the sun. The way the golden rays fall around his silhouette and the colorful autumn leaves drift in the cool breeze, he looks almost ethereal.

As if he's not from this world.

Lost in your admiration of him, you finally see him turn toward you again, offering you the berry between his fingers. You open your palm and he gently places it in your hand before turning back to the bushes, followed by your curious gaze as he gathers more snowberries.

''I've passed by these berries many times, but they only caught my attention when I saw children picking and stomping on them.'' He says, still focused on the bush as he weighs the white fruits in his hand.

''They're called 'pop berries' because they burst with a loud pop under your feet.'' You nod, rolling the lone berry in your palm, wondering where he is going with this. ''I did that too as a kid. It's fun, you know?''

Rafayel nods understandingly, causing you to flinch a little when he suddenly lets the berries fall to the ground, where they burst with a loud pop under his elegant shoe. Finally, he turns to you again, gently taking the one berry from your hand as if it was the most fragile thing he had ever seen.

''Look... if you throw them to the ground and step on them, they're only 'pop berries'. A fun, innocent distraction from ordinary life.''

His beautiful eyes reflect a tenderness that tightens your chest and you hold your breath as he carefully opens the berry in his hand, revealing it's shimmering white flesh to you.

''But if you take a closer look, you'll notice that it's true worth lies hidden inside... glowing like new-fallen snow.''

Amazed, you look at the split fruit between his fingers. ''How come I never noticed this? It's beautiful...'' You say, still stunned by the richness and depth of his soul that he occasionally shows you.

Rafayel truly has a unique way of seeing the world.

''Because people are always the same, don't you think? Stomping on others without realizing their worth hidden underneath.'' His voice comes out of nowhere, and your stunned smile shifts into a concerned frown as you watch him toss the broken berry into the bushes.

Unaware that he's fighting his own battles silently.

''Rafayel...? Are you alright?'' You ask, wondering why he seems so lost in his thoughts on this sunny autumn day. ''They're just kids... aren't you a little gloomy today?''

''Gloomy?''' The Lemurian looks up at you in surprise, as if you just uncovered a secret. He slowly lifts his gaze to the branches above, watching the colorful leaves sway. ''Yeah... maybe it's just the change of seasons, huh?'' He adds sheepishly before looking back at you, a feigned bright smile spreading across his face—one he perfected over years of solitude.

Telling you the truth? That he's been having nightmares as the anniversary of his beloved homeland's downfall is nearing?

Not an option.

Not because he doesn't trust you. He simply couldn't bear to burden you with the trauma he's been forced to carry for decades. How could he ever tell you the truth? That you were the key to his people's salvation or destruction? Needless to say, he would always choose the latter again if it meant keeping you safe no matter how it tormented his soul.

Yet you notice a glint of vulnerability in his expression, and as you open your lips to express your concerns, he simply takes your hand and starts walking again.

''Or maybe I'm just hungry! Let's grab some food, yeah?''

Thank you for reading!

Cherry 🍒

[visionsoffutile]

"Well, did she make you cry? Make you break down"

Gold dust woman: chapter one

The soft hum of music filled the small, dimly lit music store. You leaned against the counter head nodding slightly to beat of Gold dust woman by fleetwood mac off of the rumors album. You'd picked the album for to start the day off. The air smelled of aged records,wood,and faintly something sweet-like vanilla. The smell made the morning less dull.

It was just another slow Saturday. Or you thought.

The small door bell chimed as it opened, letting the cool autumn air in.

In she walked.Regina George.

It was not hard to notice her, it never was. Blond hair, perfectly styled. An outfit that scremed 'fall core', from designer boots to the soft cashmere sweater that hugged off her shoulders just right. She carried that self confidence that most people don't have.

But she walking straight towards you. You swallowed hard,pushing off the counter and trying to compose yourself. Regina fucking George in a music store? This felt like a storm was upon you. Couldn't figure out why she came in or hell even picked this store.

"Hi, can I help you?" Your voice came out more casual than you felt. Inside your heart was racing. You were used to customers, but not customers like her.

She didn't respond right. Instead her eyes roamed the shelves, barley acknowledging your presence at first, as though she was weighing whether you were worth her time. She drifted her fingers across a row of vinyl records, her expression unreadable then finally glanced up at you with those piercing blue eyes.

"I'm looking for something...I have to get a friend a birthday present" she said her voice smooth as a honey but with edge. "Like a taylor swift or lana del rey album."

"Well uh,I got a few suggestions." You said stepping around the counter and making towards lana del rey and taylor swift records. You could feel her watching as you moved, and it sent a shiver down your spine. 'Don't trip, don't trip' mentally chanted.

You pulled out two records one from both artist and showed to her. "So whose birthday?". "Karens" she responded. You put the lana del rey record back. "Taylor is definitely her is vibe."

She stepped closer, inspecting the record in your hands. She was so close now you could smell her perfume, something expensive and intoxicating. You could feel the heat rising in your face.

"You're cute when you're nervous" she said causally, like she was commenting on the weather. Your brain short circuited for a moment. Was Regina George flirting with you? Or just playing some twisted game like she known for?

You cleared your throat, trying to pull yourself together. "So you want the record or...".

Regina looked at One more, Then back at you."Yes." She shrugged , but there was something in her gaze that felt almost... predatory. It sent a thrill through you.

As you rang her up at the counter you couldn't help but still glances at her. She was on her phone looking on bother, like she hadn't just made your heart do a weird flip.

When you handed her the bag she took it with a smile. "Thanks, what's your name?". You stammered it out, surprise she even cared to ask.

"Hmm." Regina smiles deepend,eyes flickering over you one last time. "I'll see you around y/n."

With that she turned on her heel.And walked out of the store leaving you dumbfounded. The door swung shut behind her soft chime, and the store was suddenly quiet.

You exhaled a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

Somehow you knew this wouldn't be the last time,Regina George walked into your life.

[m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s]

Requests, yay!! Thank you for blessing tumblr with your bright presence! ✨️

So, I was thinking... I'd like to request something with our handsome and beloved Crosshair and a female reader perhaps involving a cozy rainy evening in a coffee shop? I'm in a very big coffee and cozy mood and some fluff with Crosshair would maybe really hit the spot. One shot or headcanons would be alright, just wirte whatever you wish. I know it'll be lovely! And thank you again for doing this ✨️🩷

OMG I HAD SO MUCH FUN DOING THIS ONE!!!

i had to ponder on it forever, but once i thought of the idea, the spring sprung fr.

hope you enjoy!! :)

—

Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,169 words

Warnings: talking of the war, army, battles, being away (only mentioned once or twice)

Genre: VERY VERY FLUFFY, LIKE SUPER FLUFFY

Description: A day out with Crosshair takes a sweet, and rainy turn.

—

Rainy Days & Mochas

—

“You know it’s going to rain soon, right?”

Extending arms of oak trees hung above your head, crisp air nipping your nose as you looked above. Cinnamon, ochres, pecans, and crimsons fluttered above on the branches in the shape of leaves. Just beyond, through the autumnal rainbow, distant rain clouds could be spotted. 

You also spotted him.

“I’m ignoring the rain.”

Fortunately, the Batch had gotten a week of shore leave after months of being on the go. A never ending war in sight, always something to tend to, and also some droid army to take down. 

In the here and now though, there was a handsome sniper in your sights. One that was holding your hand and walking with you in this quiet autumn world. 

That in itself could demolish any thought of how quickly the week felt like it was drifting by.

“How can you ignore the rain if it’s getting ready to rain?” You questioned, smiling to yourself at the repetitive asks.

Crosshair’s warm chuckle rang out into the autumn touched park the pair of you were walking in. 

He had wanted to take you out today, spend time with you. Just be with you.

Despite how cold it was from the autumn air, your heart failed to be chilled. 

“I’m ignoring it because I’m focusing on you,” Crosshair said, turning to you. The softness dulled those hard edges you had seen on occasion. Late nights where he came to your apartment, seeking the comfort he would never have out on the battlefield. 

He was out of his gear for once as well, donning a ebony turtleneck, blue jeans, and that damned jacket that still sent butterflies through your stomach. It was tawny corduroy, fluffy white lining poking out of the collar. It smelt like him, warm oceanic musk, pine, and that hint of his polish he used on his beloved sniper. 

That jacket stayed with you, a token to remember him while he was away. For now though, you didn’t have to remember. He was here, and that’s what mattered.

“What’s got your mind in a twist, darlin’?” Crosshair asked, hands coming to cradle your face.

You looked to Crosshair, thoughts dwindling away. 

“Nothing. Just you.” You leaned into his touch, craving it. He smiled, coming close to pepper your nose with kisses.

Little pitter patters of water began to sprinkle on your shoulders, sending a chill through your spine.

It had begun to rain.

“I told you it was going to rain,” you stated, the simplicity of it amusing you. The weather began to pick up, the rain coming down faster, pouring from the sky.

“Crosshair!” You exclaimed, drops beginning to splash on your head.

“Let’s run!” He yelled, a smile tugging on his face.

He was already grabbing your hand, pulling you along as you ran through the park you had been enjoying. Giggles spilled from both of you, darting among rain and falling leaves. It wasn’t long before you came back to the streets of the city, making your way quickly across the road to a random business. 

Shelter.

Coffee beans?

Crosshair had pulled you two into a quaint little coffee shop, the smell of hot drinks and warm pastries tingling your nose as you both entered. 

“Crosshair!”

You shook in laughter, cold splatters of leftover rain water hitting you as he had bent over to shake his hair of water. He stood back up, another warm smile greeting your eyes. 

“Sorry, darlin’. I suppose I’ll just have to buy you a drink to warm you up.”

He didn’t wait for your answer, already making his way towards the counter to order. You moseyed your way to a back corner table, taking off your jacket and settling into the worn booth seats. It was cozy, almost nostalgic in how warm and inviting it was.

“I love when you wear that sweater.”

Crosshair had returned, carrying a pastry bag, two coffees, and that lovey dovey look he always seemed to wear around you. 

He was referencing what you were wearing, an amaranth sleeved sweater, chunky and warm in the best way for the fall weather. You gave him a smile, giggling as he came to cozy up next to you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you into his side. Despite the rain pounding against the windows of the little shop, the cold didn’t reach you in Cross’s warmth.

“So… you come here often, darlin’?”

You laughed, the sound bouncing in the carefree atmosphere. 

“It’s my first time. How about you?”

You hadn’t missed how Crosshair had pulled the two of you into the cute cafe, knowing it was a hobby of his to taste different beverages from the beloved coffee beans. Iced, warmed, cream, no cream, he loved it all. He thought he was being sneaky, but you knew his antics.

“Ah, it’s my first time with my girl. Though I know for a fact this place has the best mochas this side of town.”

“This side of town?”

“What? I had to explore the other cafes and coffee houses.”

That made you both laugh. 

Crosshair reached forward across the table, bringing two russet orange mugs closer to you. When the mugs reached your eyes, foamy sweetness with little chocolate chunks decorating the snowy top of the drink appeared. Beneath, you had a feeling a hot caffeinated drink was hidden. You also noticed a warm chocolate croissant being taken out of the little paper bag it was in. 

You looked up, meeting expectant eyes. Crosshair always shared everything with you about his little hobby, describing the drinks in detail. It was like poetry, how the flavor swirled in his mouth, or how the sugar had almost been a touch too much. 

He was waiting for you to try it, and you could do with some more warmth. 

Not that you needed it, not with him.

You raised the cup to your lips, taking a sip of the hot drink. 

Decadent, sweet, but bitter. Somehow, it all worked together, creating a drink you actually loved.

“Okay, that is so good,” You mumbled, taking another sip, hand already reaching for the croissant. 

“I knew you would like it,” Crosshair murmured, arm squeezing you closer than you already were. He pressed another peck to your forehead, smiling against your skin. 

Your gaze turned to the window, noting how the autumn day had turned quite rainy and chilled. Thoughts of running home in the rain with Crosshair sprung to your mind, knowing you both would be soaked by the time you made it to your apartment. 

“Your mind’s in a twist again, darlin’,” Crosshair spoke, his warm smile making your heart stutter.

It was your turn to greet him with your smile, arms wrapping around him.

“Just thinking of you and the rain.”

His laugh rang out again.

How you could never tire of the musical sound.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll keep you warm.”

And you knew he would make good on that promise.

—

tagging the fabulous @moonstrider9904, as well as a few others! @nahoney22 @hellothere-generalangsty @eyecandyeoz @baddest-batchers @leenabb104104 @dalu-grantkylo @ladysaturnsdust

If any of those tagged, or anyone else is interested in being on my taglist, here is the form to fill it out, or leave your interest in the comments. You can also find my taglist form on my pinned post!

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