#apologies for my crooked photos

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

Art by Diana Sperling in At Home with Jane Austen by Kim Wilson

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[shycoconutt]

Life changed a lot after Nanami Kento came into it.

Nights alone in your apartment feasting on cup ramen with microwaved broccoli (for your health obviously), turned into homemade dinners under candlelight. The long ride to work in the back of an Uber turned into riding in the passenger seat of Nanami’s luxury car, hands intertwined over the middle console. Quick showers turned into long, steaming baths with essential oils. Winding down from a long day turned from nights out at the bar to nights in under the covers while he softly reads to you.

“Darling, hey, wake up,” you hear Nanami whisper in your ear as you feel your shoulders shake lightly. You groan in protest, not wanting to be broken away from the warmth and smell of him all around you.

“I know, I know,” he softly chuckles, “but we need to get ready for bed properly.”

You nuzzle into his side more and wrap your arms around him. Squeezing him slightly, you take one long, dramatic inhale of his scent in the crook of his neck, fluttering your eyelashes to give him butterfly kisses.

“What are you doing?,” he laughs, “It tickles!”

“Just taking some for the road,” you smile into his skin.

“You’re such a dork.”

With Nanami, everything always seems to be taken care of. There is no need to over-extend your brain power, because once a thought or worry passes through, you know it’s been meticulously mulled over by your other half.

Your appointments are scheduled and on the calendar. Your laundry is clean and neatly put away in the proper place. Your memories and photos are filed and categorized, with some of your favorites even framed and displayed in your home and offices. Your books, CDs and other media are sorted alphabetically in pristine condition.

“But wouldn’t it be cool if they were categorized by, I dunno, color? We could make a rainbow wall!” you suggest as you marvel at his work.

Nanami, who is currently kneeling on the floor putting the last of your books on the shelf, turns and gives you a disapproving glare, “Absolutely not. It would be a disservice to your collection.”

“A disservice to my collection?”

“What happens when a series contains books of all different colored covers? Am I supposed to just separate them?”

You blink.

“You’re right. I apologize for even suggesting something so foul.”

But, most importantly, over everything, your body, mind, and soul are finally at ease. Past anxieties rarely present themselves anymore, and, if they do, you never dwell. People say you’re glowing, and they aren’t wrong. Your skin is clear, your hair is shiny and smooth. Your favorite clothes fit a little better, and your shoes are always polished to look brand new.

“Nananmi Kento looks good on you, girl,” Shoko muses, watching you over her lunch in the breakroom.

You smirk, daring not to look across the table to conserve your blush, “Feels good too.”

“Gross!” 

You curl over in laughter as Shoko chucks a strawberry at your head.

All this and more, because Nanami cares, protects, cherishes, and respects you. He would never, ever in a million years try to hurt you in any way. He is honest and loyal, vowed by his duty to be a man. Ever since he was young, he put immense thought into its meaning, only to be confirmed by one look at you.

One look and he knew that you were the one he would spend the rest of his life with.

“I think I should take you out on a date, if you don’t mind of course,” Nanami stutters, gently pulling you aside after one of your meetings.

“You think we should date?” you question, head reeling.

“Yes,” he starts, “I think we’ve been friends for long enough and it’s time to move forward with our relationship.”

The disbelief you feel must be painted on your face because Nanami’s normally pale skin is flushed cherry red just looking at you.

“I mean, long term,” he’s babbling now, “I want to make you my wife. Well, I wanted you to be my wife from the beginning, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, but they always say the best relationships start from friendships, so I thought it would be best to take our time. Naturally, now is as good a time as any. We’re at good places in our careers, we already spend a lot of time together, our personalities mesh, and, I don’t mean to be coarse, but I think we’d look pretty good tog-"

Before your mind has a chance to catch up, you’re already cutting him off with a passionate kiss, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down close to you. After a beat, you feel Nanami’s broad, warm hands grab hold around your waist, pulling you to him. 

His lips feel so soft, and more plush than you anticipated. You part yours slightly in an invitation, and he’s quick to swipe his tongue against your bottom lip. You reciprocate and smile when you feel the vibrations of a small moan escape him.

You break the kiss first.

“I’d marry you yesterday if I could, Kento.”

Where he ebbs, you flow. With the few traits he lacks, you flourish. In social settings, you pick up when he doesn’t have the bandwidth to keep going. You can read his mind from his body language alone. You've shown him how to aim for the ideal, even when his pragmatic nature leads the way. You’ve taught him to slow down, even when life is relentlessly shoving him along.

“Kento, are you- are you crying?” you question in shock.

It’s difficult to process the information in front of you. You’re not seeing things, right? That’s definitely a tear falling down his cheek. Quickly, you bring your thumb to his face, swiping it away.

Catching your wrist, he brings your pulse point to his lips, giving you a small kiss there.

Here, feet in the white sand of the island of Redang, under the dark, starry sky, Kento goes down to kneel before you.

Recognizing the gesture, your heart swells and all the air leaves your lungs. Both your hands immediately cover your mouth, and the burn of tears forming ignites behind your eyes.

Through the blur, you see him smile. 

Regaining composure over your senses, you remind yourself to take everything in. The way his honey-brown eyes reflect the lights in the distance, the way his open collar ruffles in the breeze, the appearance of the new freckles from the Malaysian sun that decorate his exposed chest, how his unstyled, blonde hair moves freely, how one of his hands takes both of your own, while the other holds out a breathtakingly beautiful solitaire diamond ring.

Your eyes take him all in and land back on his face, one that displays the most loving, adoring expression you’ve ever received. 

“When you came into my life, everything changed. I knew, from that point forward, I would dedicate my existence to ensuring your happiness. Nothing matters to me more than seeing you smile. It gives me purpose—fills the air in my lungs. I have never, and will never need anything more.”

You watch the tears cascade down his cheeks, mirroring your own.

“Please do me the honor of marrying me and making you my wife.”

One second passes, and you squeal, “Yes!”

a/n: This was supposed to be smutty and turned into something fluffy. I can't help it! I just adore him so much. also, how do we feel about this format? I've never done something like this before!

[number1mingyustan]

hihi !! I love your fics sm. <3

If you're taking requests can you do Mingyu as a biker bf? What if you wanna learn how to ride a bike and he says "you should practice on the biker first." OMFGGG IM CRAZY. Love you

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, cursing, kissing, explicit smut, oral (f+m), sixty-nine, unprotected sex, creampie, riding, light breast play, multiple orgasms

_______________________________________________

Mingyu nibbles on his bottom lip as his eyes remain fixated on the easel in front of him. He's concentrating, hand moving slowly as he drags the brush along the canvas.

You smile to yourself, feeling your heart warm at the sight of him.

Painting is not his thing.

Even with all the effort he seems to be putting into his painting, his lines are crooked and a little messy. He knows this too, he's never really been one for the arts.

Painting is one of your hobbies and always has been. You're more of the artistic type and Mingyu well... Mingyu likes his bikes. He's got more of a grunge sort of vibe that consists of leather jackets, obnoxious motorcycles, and cigarettes.

You were polar opposites. You preferred your quiet life in the arts, sundresses, walks in flower fields, and painting. You've noticed the way he's softened up since you two met, you're sure it's the effect you've had on him.

He sticks his tongue out, drawing his last two strokes before dropping the paintbrush into the cup. "Done."

You turn your head, completely facing him. You eyes scan over the painting in front of him and your smile grows. "Gyu you've gotten so good at this."

He grins at the praise. "Learned from the best."

The painting in front of him is simple, a landscape of a beach sunset. There's not nearly as much detail as the reference photo in front of you two, but it's undeniably solid work, especially for a beginner like your boyfriend.

He leans over, planting a kiss onto your cheek. His eyes can't help but drift to your painting as he does so.

"Oh wow," His jaw slacks open.

He admires your painting. Even though the two of you painted the same thing, yours is exponentially better. He loves how talented you are, and you never fail to impress him.

________________

When Mingyu comes home the next evening, he expects to see you. You're usually in the living room or the bedroom. He searches the house for you, checking every room to no avail.

He frowns. He saw your car parked out front, so he knows you're here.

A loud sound suddenly catches his attention. He makes his way toward the source of the sound, walking downstairs into the garage.

"Fuck!" You exclaim, racing to the aid of the bike.

You struggle to hold the heavy vehicle up as it remains tilted inside the garage. Your boyfriend saves the day, rushing to your side and helping you to lift the bike up to its proper stature.

"Sorry," You apologize quickly. "I swear I was being careful!"

Your words are muffled. He looks at you with confusion written over his face. You're wearing black leggings and a tight-fitting black zip up. It's unusual attire for you.

Not to mention his entirely large helmet is covering your head.

"What are you doing?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"I wanna learn how to ride it," You say.

"What?" He asks.

You pull the oversized helmet off of your head and place it under your arm. You huff out.

"I wanna learn how to ride it," You move your hair out of your face. "I was trying to surprise you."

"You hate bikes, babe," He lets out a breathy laugh, taking the helmet out of your hands.

"I've had a change of heart," You insist.

He raises an eyebrow. "Why so suddenly?"

"Well... I don't know. When we were painting it made me realize how much you've embraced my hobbies and stuff. I wanna embrace the stuff you like too," You explain. "So teach me.... please?"

Oh you're adorable, He thinks to himself.

"That's very sweet Y/n," He grins. "But it's okay."

You cross your arms over your body. "But.."

"If you really wanna get into my hobbies, we can find another one baby," He kisses your forehead. "But taking my bike is extremely dangerous and it's probably good that I caught you."

"I know," You say.

You lean against the bike, staring at the vehicle with a glint of sadness behind your eyes. You trace your fingers along the metal of the bike, admiring your boyfriend's precious vehicle.

He places the helmet down. "You know, if you wanna learn that bad, you should practice on the biker first."

It takes a second for his words to settle into your brain. You lean against the bike and raise an eyebrow. "Gyu?"

He walks closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulls you in close. You can feel his breath fanning over your skin, causing goosebumps to raise. His lips press against the shell of your ear.

"Come upstairs," He whispers against your ear. "I'll teach you whatever you want to know."

You intertwine your fingers with his. He pulls your body back into the house and leads you upstairs.

"You're so cute," He smiles. He presses his lips to yours. "I love doing the things you love.... love you." He says between kisses.

He lifts you up and carries you into his bedroom. He places your body down on the bed and pulls off his shirt. His toned body is exposed, muscles bulging beneath his warm skin as he looks at you with hungry eyes.

His back meets the bed with a small thump and he pulls your body on top of him. Your hips meet his and he lets out a soft groan. You pull off your own shirt and drop it onto the ground. You grind against his hips slowly. He unzips your jacket and pulls it off your body.

His hand snakes around the back of your neck and he pulls you into a passionate kiss. He moans against your lips as you continue to grind against his hardening cock.

You can feel him growing beneath you. His cock swells in the confines of his jeans, causing you to moan as you grind down on his growing length. Heat rushes between your thighs and the aching need for pleasure grows in your body.

You pull away from the heated kiss and sit up. You pull your shirt over your head and Mingyu sits up too. He kisses up your stomach and continues to grind against you needily as you unhook your bra. You let it fall and his lips immediately travel to your breasts.

He holds you by your hips as his lips wrap around your nipple. He sucks on your skin, ensuring to give both your breasts the same amount of attention. Your skin burns at the feeling of his touch. Be it his lips on your chest or his hands on your waist, it ignites something in you.

But as much as you love it, you quickly grow impatient. You lift your hips and pull your underwear and leggings off in one go. You toss them and start undoing Mingyu's black jeans.

"C'mre," He says, pulling at your legs.

He lifts your legs and flips you over so he can taste you. He wraps your legs around his head and immediately starts sucking on your clit.

"Fuck.." You moan out.

Your grip on his jeans quickly grows weak as pleasure clouds your senses. You try to undo the buttons, but the feeling of his tongue on you is highly distracting.

He sucks on your clit, occasionally lapping his tongue through your folds. The pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach quickly. You're finding it difficult to do anything, squirming and grinding against his face.

He holds his hands on either side of your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you. He moans against you, nearly enjoying it almost as much as you are.

You finally get him undressed and return the favor. You take his hard cock in your hand, stroking his length and spreading the precum from his leaking tip.

He moans against you again, allowing his eyes to fall shut as relief washes over him. He keeps his focus on you, pushing two of his fingers into your soaked hole.

You take his cock into your mouth, moaning around his length as you feel his fingers fill you up. He sucks your clit and his digits pump into you, and the vibrations from his moaning quickly have you nearing the edge.

His cock repeatedly hits the back of your throat as you stroke his length, bobbing your head to make him feel equally as good as you do.

You find down against his face with little to no coordination. Your hips move desperately, chasing your incoming orgasm as your saliva coats the entire length of his cock.

He curls his fingers into you and pumps them at a faster pace. His face is coated with your arousal and he slurps it up gladly, wrapping his lips around your clit and circling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

You lift your head, crying out as your orgasm overwhelms you. You grind against his face and fingers as you cum, continuing to drip onto his face.

"Hah-shit," You moan out.

His cock still remains in the grip of your hand, leaking more precum as he tastes you on his tongue.

When you come down from your high, his hands are quickly on your body. He pulls your body flush against his, kissing you sloppily and needily.

He is so obsessed with you and everything about you. His hands wander along your skin, tracing over every inch of your body gently. He lays on his back, pulling you back on top of him without breaking the kiss.

You're the one to pull away, lifting your hips on his lap. He leans back, allowing you to take over.

You sink down onto his length, groaning at the stretch of his cock. He holds you by the hips, guiding you down on his cock. The warmth of your pussy envelopes him perfectly, dripping down his length as you accommodate his length.

"So good baby," He moans.

Your eyes are screwed shut as you sink down, only tightening as he fills you up bit by bit. You gasp out once your hips meet, feeling the entirety of his length inside of you.

"Fuck...holy fuck–" You grip the bedsheets.

You start moving your hips slowly, still getting used to the feeling of fullness. He's patient with you, guiding your hips with soft hands and gentle movements.

You start to pick up a steady rhythm, lifting your hips and sinking down onto his length. You roll your hips with each movement, allowing his cock to fill you up and reach deep into you.

It feels so fucking good.

He watches you with love and lust clouding his eyes. His gaze is locked in on you, admiring how beautiful you look right now. Your mouth hangs open as loud moans pass through your lips.

Your body is dripping with sweat and your tits are bouncing in his face every time you lift your hips and sink back down onto his length. The stretch of pussy is addictive, sending waves of pleasure through his cock and entire body.

He sits up, resting his hand on the small of your back. Your hands wrap around his back, nails digging into his skin as your chests press together.

He lifts his hips, matching your pace as he fucks himself into you. You cry out, lips pressed against his shoulder. The feeling is intense and addictive and incredibly intimate.

His cheeks are flushed red and sweat glistens down his face and abs. His hair falls perfectly on his face and you can't help but admire him. His mouth remains in a small 'O' shape, allowing small moans and grunts and groans of pleasure to ring in your ears.

"Fuck baby," He moans. "I'm close."

His head tilts back, exposing his adam's apple to your line of sight. He continues to thrust into you, cock pressing against the sweet spot deep inside of you with every movement of his hips.

"Hah-me too," You pant.

The pleasure continues to grow, eventually overwhelming your entire body. You cry out and your body falls limp against him. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, moaning and breathing heavily as you cum around his cock.

Your pussy throbs, tightening around his length and bringing about his own orgasm. His hips still and his cock swells as he fills you with his load.

He lets out a long groan as he pumps his load into you. Your chests rise and fall in unison as you breathe heavily and come down from your orgasms. You lift your head and cup his cheeks with your soft hands.

His vision clears and his eyes meet yours. He flashes you a grin. "Hi baby."

You return his expression with a shy smile. "Hi Gyu."

He presses his forehead against yours and plants a kiss on your lips. "I love you, pretty girl."

"Love you more," You grin.

"Impossible," He smiles.

His hands hold your hips as he lifts you up. You wince at the emptiness and and lays you down on the bed. He presses a kiss onto your bellybutton and stands to his feet.

He disappears into the bathroom and you hear the bathwater running. He comes back a few minutes later and picks you up bridal style. You wrap your arms around him happily and he carries you to the tub. He slips into the warm water behind you, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder and back.

"Baby," he says.

"Hmm?" You quirk up.

"We can take a ride tonight if you want, on the bike," He proposes. "Together."

You perk up. "Really?"

"Yeah, but you can't be scared," He grins.

"I'm not!"

He kisses your shoulder. "Okay baby, whatever you say. Just hold onto me tight and I won't let you fall and teach your a few things. Sound good?"

You tilts your head all the way back so your eyes meet his. You smile. "Okay. I love you Gyu."

"I love you too."

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[fluffytriceratops]

Hi, I’m not sure if you’re still doing requests or not but if it’s okay, could I request a headcanon of maybe 2k12 and Rise!Leo x reader having a cuddle time? I don’t mind you choosing one of them, I totally understand. I love Leo so much he’s such a dork and needs to be protected at all costs 🥰 Thanks!

𝐆𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬 - 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐨 [𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟐 & 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐞]

notes: yes, of course! i would love to write this for you!! i'll do them both since you asked so nicely hehe, but this is my first time doing a headcannon of rise leo so i apologize if it's a little ooc. ^^ i hope you enjoy! <3 [also photo is not mine fyi-] 

warnings: mature language/swearing, tooth rotting fluff,

tags: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @rheawritesforfun @s-s-ironnie @post-apocalyptic-daydream @mysticboombox @drowninghell @lec743 @raphielover  @raphslovemuffin80 @squirrelfurs @bibiz82 @pheradream-15 @kikithedreamerwriter @m1dnyt3-w0lf @scholastic-dragon @moonsua1

(if you would like to be tagged in my future tmnt x reader related work, feel free to let me know and i'll happily add you!)

i love you all sm! i'm sending all the virtual hugs and well wishes to you!! <33

---

2012 Leonardo:

- as a cuddle bug, you love a good cuddle session. and honestly, leo wont oppose to this as he too loves to cuddle with you. 

- plus how can he say no when you waddle up to him with a cute pout on your face? wondering why he had left you in the bed all alone?? 

- "you fell asleep and i wanted to make myself a cup of tea." he hummed, extending an arm and watching with a warm smile as you curled into his side and nuzzled against him. 

- "and? i don't see your point in leaving me. is tea more important than your beloved?" 

- leo fights the urge to roll his eyes and bites back a grin. "well..." 

- he lets out a laugh when you scowl and pull away from him, he catches you by the waist before you get too far. 

- "i'm kidding, nothing is more important than you." he hums, planting a sweet kiss to your temple. 

- you huff, puffing out your cheeks in agitation. "doesn't feel like it, leonardo." 

-  leo winces. "pulling out the full name, huh? that's a low blow, baby." 

- "you shouldn't of left me for a sack of crusty leaves, dickhole." 

- leo chuckles at this, shaking his head to himself. "i'll make it up to you, promise. shall we go back to cuddling?" 

- you glance up at him, taking in the way he gazes at you adoringly. his ocean eyes are so full of love it makes your heart ache. 

- with a soft smile and a nod of your head, you wait for him to grab his tea before making your way back to his bedroom. 

- he places his mug on his bedside table before climbing into his bed. you wait for him to get comfy before climbing in as well. planting yourself on top of his chest. 

- leo runs his hand up and down your back in a comforting manner. watching as you trace invisible patterns into his skin with your index finger. 

- he loves laying with you like this. the rest of world falls silent when the two of you get to cuddle. 

- it's like the only person in the world is you. you're all that matters. 

- leo see's you getting sleepy again, eyelids falling heavy. he lets out a breath of content when you nuzzle yourself further into him. pressing your face in the crook of his neck. 

- "i love you." you mumble, breath tickling him. 

- "i love you, too." he whispers, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. 

- cuddle sessions with you were the best. there was no place he'd rather be than here. with you safe in his arms. 

--- 

2018/Rise Leonardo:

- leo's a clingy mother fucker. he loves a good cuddle. and honestly, he can be a tad clingy.

- but you can't complain, because you love cuddles too. and leo's good at cuddling. 

- sometimes, however, it can catch you off guard. 

- you're laying on the couch, scrolling through random tiktoks on your phone when out of nowhere a body practically launches itself on top of yours. 

- your breath leaves you and you grunt at the sudden weight. "holy fucking shit-" 

- you can't see leo's face, it's buried in your chest and your face heats at the sight. "what the fuck are you on?" 

- "cocaine." comes his muffled reply and it makes you snort and roll your eyes. 

- he tilts his head up, resting his chin against you as he stares up at you cheekily. 

- "you're such a shit." 

- "but i'm your shit. and you love me." he purrs, smirking at the way your face heats even more. 

- "shut up. you didn't have to launch yourself onto me like that. if you wanted cuddles so damn bad you could have asked, asshole." 

- your hand finds his shell and you begin to trace the grooves, knowing how much he likes it. leonardo practically melts in your arms. 

- "you would've said no-" 

- "that's a fat fucking lie and you know it." 

- leo pouts dramatically. "you've got such a potty mouth today." 

- "that's what happens whenever you're around." 

- it's leo's turn to roll his eyes. "not my fault i take your breath away~" 

- "only when you yeet your entire body mass onto mine without warning-" 

- "don't be so dramatic." he nuzzles further into you, wiggling to try and get more comfortable. 

- you sigh, "you're lucky i love you." 

- he beams at this. "see, what did i say-" 

- "i will throw your ass onto the floor." 

- leo shuts up at that. but you don't miss the massive shit eating smirk on his face. the sight makes you smile. 

- "i love you too." he says after a moment, pressing his face into the crook of your neck to plant a few tender kisses to your skin. 

- it's your turn to melt against him. "you better.." 

- tossing your phone onto the floor, you wrap your arms around him to the best of your ability. your legs are tangled together and your breathing evens out. hearts beating in perfect sync. 

- cuddling with leo felt like heaven. and while you'd never say it out loud, cuz he'd never let you live it down, you honestly adored every second of it. 

[fanfics4all]

Stupid Fight

Request: Yes / No This is based on this post that I saw a little bit ago from @hereforhalstead

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 487

Warnings: Mentions of a fight, but its just fluff! 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

The couch creaked beneath me as I shifted for what felt like the hundredth time, trying to find some semblance of comfort. The argument with Spencer replayed over and over in my head, the details blurring together into a mess of stubborn words and wounded pride. I knew it was something trivial, but here I was, lying alone on the couch in the middle of the night refusing to budge. 

Spencer’s silence from the bedroom was haunting and I wondered if he was doing the same thing I was, lying there staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore the emptiness beside him. Normally, he’s right here, curled around me, his hand resting on my waist and breathing softly against my neck. But tonight, both of us were too stubborn to give in. 

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to settle, but every noise in the quiet room seemed louder and every shadow somehow colder. The minutes crawled by, each one stretching longer than the last. I hated this distance, the silence that had settled between us. But I wasn’t about to be the first one to break, not tonight. 

Just as I started drifting off, I felt the couch dip beside me, and a familiar warmth settled close. My heart skipped as Spencer slid beside me, one arm slipping around my waist as he pulled me close. I felt his fingers trace gentle patterns along my arm and I closed my eyes, sinking into the comfort of his touch. 

“Spencer…” I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper. But before I could say anything else, he nudged my head gently, guiding it into the crook of his neck. His chin rested lightly on top of my head and I let out a soft breath, inhaling the familiar scent of him. My heart softened, and all the tension slipped away as I relaxed against him. 

“We can go back to arguing in the morning.” He whispered, his words gentle but filled with something deeper. 

“But I can’t take another second without you next to me.” I closed my eyes, the fight within me softening as his fingers continued tracing soothing patterns on my arm. I knew at that moment, that the argument didn’t matter. Not when he was here, holding me as though I was his entire world. I could feel his heartbeat steady and calm, lulling me into a warmth I could never find alone. 

I wrapped my arm around him, burring myself closer and breathing in his scent. The silence wasn’t cold or stained anymore… it was peaceful, a promise that no argument, no matter how big or small, could keep us apart for long. And as I drifted off in his arms, I knew that in the morning we’d talk, we’d apologize, and we’d make things right. Because with Spencer, I’d never be alone, never be without this warmth and love that anchored us both.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @pettyjayy @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101  @reidssmile @currentfangirl-futuremedexaminer @mggstyles @satans-0-spawn @emofairygay @thesoftestwarlock @liz-owl

[snowyquokka]

HOME

jeongin x fem reader

cw: angst (😈), breakup, kissing, swearing, mutual pining, mentions of cheating, kinda toxic/asshole seungmin (FORGIVE ME), not proof read bc why tf would i do that (im too lazy so my apologies if some of it doesn’t make sense lmfao-)

wc: 3.1k

a.n - so this is not how it was originally supposed to be 😭 it started as a seungmin fic but spiraled into whatever monstrosity this is lmao. everyone thank @solisyeah for the request ily. anywho i hope it’s good <3

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Seungmin furrows his brows as he inspects the photo on his screen. A photo of you with another guy, in his lap with your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

Just like you do with Seungmin.

On the very couch he’s sitting on.

At first he thought it was edited, because there’s no way you’d cheat on him, right? But as he took a closer look he just knew it was real.

He was tired, sore, and downright miserable from a rough day at the studio; he had to take way too many breaks for his liking and this picture was just the thing he needed to send him right off the deep end.

He shot up from his spot on the couch so fast it made his head spin, but that didn’t deter him from storming into your bedroom where you were sitting on the bed, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. Once you see his face you can automatically sense something’s wrong.

“Seung?” You tilt your head as you watch him take your apartment key off of his key ring before placing it on your dresser with a clink.

“Seungmin what are you doing?” You jump off of your bed as he slides his shoes on. He runs his fingers through his hair with a frustrated huff.

“I don’t- I think we just need a break. I need a break.” These words were the last thing you imagined to ever come out of his mouth, in this context especially. Or lack there of.

“Wha- why?” Your eyes glaze over with unshed tears that threaten to spill at any given moment. You don’t want to cry in front of him, you’ve always hated having your raw emotions on display like that, especially in such a powerless situation. “Seungmin, talk to me. What the fuck is going on?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. I’m not stupid.” Seungmin shakes his head “Did you really think you could hide it from me?”

“Hide what, Seungmin?”

“You should’ve just fucking left me. Spared my feelings, maybe. But I guess you’re just too selfish for that.”

Without another word he rushes out of the room, leaving you in shambles with nothing else to do but slide to the floor, curl into yourself and let the sobs take over your body.

Seungmin can hear you crying before he even walks out of the front door, causing his heart to clench in his chest and his gut to twist. Standing with his hand just brushing the door handle, he has to physically force himself to press on, to let you go, to accept his reality. The door slams shut behind him and the noise only pushes you further towards the realization that this is actually happening. You aren’t hallucinating, this isn’t some fucked up fever dream or an even more fucked up prank.

You just wish you knew why. No matter how much you try to put the pieces together, you’re always missing something. You can’t think of anything that could’ve set him off. Everything was perfectly normal less than an hour ago, yet all it took was five minutes to trigger the downward spiral of what feels like the end of the world- the end of your world.

-

“What’re you doing back here?” Jeongin slides next to Seungmin - who is still eyeing up the picture on his screen - on the floor. Jeongin nods towards the phone, “What’s that?”

Seungmin huffs and leans his head against the wall behind him, “I honestly don’t fucking know, I don’t even really want to know, actually.”

Jeongin reaches for the phone, pulling it out of Seungmin’s grasp. His lips part in a silent ‘oh’ as he inspects the photo. He’s assuming Seungmin hadn’t even given you a chance to explain solely based on his reaction, in typical Seungmin fashion. Jeongin turns his body to face the other, his face set in an almost disappointed expression.

“I’m going to say this with the utmost respect and I need you to not cause me any bodily harm-” Jeongin sighs before continuing, “You’re a dumbass. Like the dumbest dumbass I think I’ve ever seen. Like paboracha level dumbass. I’m talking-”

“Are you done?” Seungmin groans and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Are you done? God- you just fucked yourself over. If I were you I’d start praying that she’ll still take you back after all this crazy shit.”

“How did I fuck myself over when she’s the one cheating? Or am I supposed to just forget about that and take the blame for it all like usual? She brought another guy into the same place I spend almost all my time at, and probably fucked hi-” Jeongin slaps his hand over Seungmin’s mouth, effectively silencing him before he could carry on with his bullshit.

“Hyung. Shut up.” The maknae slowly pulls his hand away as Seungmin’s eyebrows shoot upward. “Look I get it, you’re tired, you’re upset, you’re angry bu-”

“Can you fucking blame me? I can’t unsee it. I mean, you see how comfortable she looked with him.” he clenches his fists.

“Will you keep your mouth closed already? You’re killing me here, got a massive migraine now.” Jeongin groans and rubs his temples as he speaks “That picture was taken over a year ago. Before you even knew she existed, hyung. Besides, I know her better than anyone ever will, other than you obviously, which is why I suggest that you get your ass up and go apologize for being such a dumb fuck. Beg for her forgiveness if you gotta. Maybe get on your knees while you’re at it.” he sighs and stands, holding his hand out to Seungmin before pulling him up.

“How do you know she isn’t lying to you? How do you know she isn’t lying about anything else?” Seungmin finally says.

“Because she loves you too much to do that to you. God, have you always been this dense? You seriously need to wake up and realize how stupid you sound.” Jeongin mocks, prompting Seungmin to glare at him one last time before walking out of the studio. All the while unbeknownst to the younger standing with a frown threatening to pull at the corners of his mouth.

“He’s a fucking idiot if he let’s her go over this,” he mutters begrudgingly while he listens to the soft pur of Seungmin’s car in the distance.

-

Almost a week later you’re still waking up with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. The first thing you notice is Seungmin’s apartment key still sitting on the dresser untouched. Well, it used to be his. You were really hoping that it was all just a shitty nightmare and that you’d still be tucked in his side with his soft snores being the only sound to fill the room even though it’s been days.

You realize what had stirred you awake as another knock fills the almost suffocating silence. You’re half tempted to just ignore it, but something in your gut tells you to answer it.

“Oh, uhm- hi Innie.” you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. Or Seungmins hoodie, rather.

God you need to pull yourself together. How could you not even realize what you were wearing. Fuck.

“Hey,” Jeongin rocks back on his heels somewhat awkwardly, “Can I come in?”

You nod and mumble a soft ‘of course‘ as you move out of the way for him to slip past the threshold and into your apartment while you take a moment to collect yourself, and to put on the most convincing smile you can possibly muster.

“What’s up?” you find a spot on the couch next to him as he scans the room for a second, looking for any signs of whether or not Seungmin actually showed.

“He’s not here, is he?” Jeongin turns to you with sympathetic eyes, finding your own longing for comfort, seemingly pleading him for some sort of consolation.

“N-no but he’ll probably be back so-”

“He’s not coming back, y/n. If he was, it would’ve been days ago.”

Before you can open your mouth to protest, Jeongin has you pulled into his strong chest and tucks your head under his chin gently. “It’s okay, baby. I got you.” he sighs, rubbing small and slow circles on your back just the way he knows you like. He places a small, chaste kiss on the top of your head because he’s learned over the years that the action relaxes you and makes you feel secure.

Jeongin knows you like the back of his hand. Sometimes he thinks he knows you better than he knows himself. He knows your favorite food, your favorite season, your favorite movie. He knows how much you love to read, having periodically skimmed your shelves for books you may have and promptly buying you ones that you haven’t already buried your nose in.

Most importantly, he knows exactly what to say in order to subside your bad moods (he’s well seasoned in this field), and that sometimes you say things you don’t mean yet he never - and will never - hold that against you.

He knows just how much you loved Seungmin, not even wanting to imagine the amount of absolute heartbreak you’re feeling. Despite all this, he can’t help but feel somewhat relieved. You and Seungmin undoubtedly wouldn’t have worked in the long run and that’s exactly what you desire and deserve: a stable, long term relationship where you’d be taken care of and treated like the absolute goddess that Jeongin thinks you are.

He just wishes you give him a chance to treat you like his- more so than he already does now.

“Thank you, In,” you mumble into his chest.

“You don’t need thank me, baby. You know I’m always here.”

You did know that, you’ve always known that. Jeongin doesn’t let you doubt how much he cares for you, he’ll spend every waking moment reminding you if he has to.

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes. “I always end up burdening you with my problems.” Jeongin’s eyes soften at your apology and all he wants to do is hug and kiss and cuddle you until he thinks he’s convinced you enough of his adoration.

But for now all he can do is settle for words, though he can’t help but think it won’t be enough.

“Baby, please don’t be sorry for that. What kind of best friend would I be if I never listened to your complaints or rants?” Calling himself your best friend took more out of him than it should have and he tries to hide his hesitation. Thankfully you hadn’t noticed.

Hearing Jeongin say this makes you realize that he’s treated you better than any boyfriend you’ve ever had. Seungmin never reassured you like Jeongin does. Actually, now that you think about it, Seungmin didn’t do half of the things Jeongin does, even if it was the bare minimum.

He’s always like this, but why does it feel different now?

That’s just his personality, right? There isn’t any hidden meaning behind his words or gestures. Or the way he’s holding you and speaking to you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever had contact with. The sudden urge to reach out and cup his face is unreal. You just want to make sure you aren’t hallucinating. You wonder how you managed to find such a perfect person who thinks the world of you just as much as you do them. Someone who loves you just as deeply and truly as you do.

Wait what?

You’ve singlehandedly scared and confused yourself all at once now. Obviously you love him and he does you, but it feels as though you love him in a different way. A special way, one that you don’t think you’ve ever felt for anyone. Not even Seungmin, who you once thought was hands down your soulmate.

What you failed to realize, however, was that your soulmate has been here the whole time, and he’s holding you in his arms like he never wants to let you go.

You cut off your train of thought because he doesn’t want you like that and you’re making assumptions that could get you hurt.

Too late.

Another wave of sadness that has nothing to do with Seungmin washes over you.

“Baby? Hey, where’d you go?” Baby. Fucking baby. He’s got to stop calling you that. You want to tell him to stop, so why can’t you open your mouth and form those simple words.

“Mhm, ’m okay.” You can’t even bring yourself to put the tiniest bit of distance between your bodies.

You mentally scream at yourself for sounding so noticeably pathetic. He must think you are. How could he not when you’re making it so painfully obvious?

“Don’t hide from me, baby. You know you don’t need to hide anything from me.” How ironic.

“I’m not- I just-” you huff and lean your forehead against Jeongin’s chest. God, when did he get so…buff? Has he always been like this?

He pulls your head back to force your gaze to meet his. “What did I tell you, hm? Talk to me. I’m all ears.” His arms encircling your body is the last straw before the world comes crashing down on you.

Tears flood your vision and you aren’t even sure as to why you’re crying this time.

Pathetic and dramatic. Great.

Jeongin immediately thinks he’s overstepped now, he took it too far and made you uncomfortable. He removes his hands from you immediately though the action kills him inside, when in reality you want the exact opposite. You want him to pull you closer, you want your chest flush against his to the point where you can feel his heart beating.

“I’m sorry, Innie. I’m sorry.” You finally climb out of his grasp and step away from him. He follows you and with every step he takes forward you move backward until you collide with the wall.

“Why are you sorry when you didn’t do anything wrong? I don’t want you apologizing to me for no reason. If anyone should be apologizing it’s Seungmin, but it’s his fault and his loss, you know that.” You wish Jeongin would stop being so supportive, it’s making it ten times harder to ignore your surfacing issues.

“That’s not the problem, Jeongin.”

Since when did you call him by his full name?

“Then what is it? Is it me? Please I- I just want to help you.”

Your tears have finally halted and you couldn’t be more thankful. You need to be able to properly look into his eyes.

“You can’t help me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“Why are you being so difficult all of a sudden?”

“I’m not.” You cross your arms over your chest.

Jeongin blows out a frustrated huff. “Why can’t you tell me? Is it because Seungmin and I are friends becau-”

“I love you.”

“I know you do, which exactly is why you should be talking to me right now instead of bottling it all up-”

“No, Jeongin. I love you. Not in a friend way, not in a platonic way. I want to kiss you and hold you and-” You’ve worked yourself up so much you have cut yourself off in order to calm down.

Jeongin’s mouth stays agape for a solid five seconds before he even processes what you’ve said. “You love me?”

“Is that not what I just said?” Jeongin has to bite back his smile at your remark but quickly frowns again at the expression on your face. You look regretful, like you wish you never spoke. You’re just waiting for his rejection, willing it to come faster so you he’ll leave and you can wallow in self pity by yourself in the comfort of your bed. You disturbed the peace that was your friendship.

“I- the breakup is still fresh and you aren’t thinking straight, baby. Don’t say things you don’t mean.” Jeongin pleads. Is he trying to convince you or himself?

“But I do mean it Jeongin. I really do and I can’t believe it took me this fucking long to figure it out and I wish I’d never caught feelings because this is just a shit show now.”

He goes to speak but you quickly interrupt him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Just forget about it,” you expect him to leave, or to at least move away. But he doesn’t, instead he leans in closer to your ear and whispers in a hushed tone,

“Didn’t I just tell you to stop apologizing, baby?” The way he says ‘baby’ sends shivers down your spine, it’s different than the other times he’s called you that. This time his words actually do have a hidden meaning. His breath ghosts the shell of your ear for a moment before he slowly pulls back to look at you. As if he hasn’t studied your every feature to the point where you’re engraved in his mind.

“You have to promise me that you actually understand what you’re saying and that it isn’t the post breakup neediness talking.” He looks at you sternly and fully expecting a response in words.

You, on the other hand, have absolutely no intention of speaking as you instead grab him by the collar of his hoodie before pressing your lips against his.

Kissing your best friend is much more intimate than you ever expected. He kisses you like it’s not the first time and with more than enough purpose. It starts off aggressive but soon simmers down into a delightfully slow and passionate rhythm and as cliche as it sounds, it’s in this moment that you finally know where you belong, where your home is.

No matter the circumstances, Jeongin always left a space for you in his heart. His subconscious wouldn’t let him fill it with someone else even if he wanted (which he didn’t), forever waiting for you to find the spot with your name written all over it and stay there for as long as you may live.

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tags: @skzstarnet @godslino @myseungsunglove @seungseung-minmin @azuna-sz @chanyeolsrealwife

[ksbrighton]

A Party to Remember Part 2 [Sonic DC AU]

The Daily Planet was buzzing with the familiar hum of ringing phones, clicking keyboards, and the constant shuffle of papers as reporters darted from desk to desk. The newsroom was a whirlwind of organized chaos, typical for a Friday morning. Amy Rose stood near her desk, her voice animated as she juggled a phone call, scribbling down notes in rapid, messy shorthand.

Miles Prower zipped by, his camera bouncing against his chest. His twin tails twitched with excitement as he weaved through the bustling reporters, balancing a stack of photo prints in his arms. Stressed but energized, he did his best to help Amy and keep the daily operations on track.

At the heart of it all, Knuckles White, the gruff editor-in-chief, stood near his office door, barking orders with the authority of a drill sergeant. His white-gloved fists gripped a rolled-up newspaper, which he waved in the air like a weapon, his deep voice cutting through the newsroom chaos like a hammer through glass.

"Rose! I need that story on Shadow Robotnik’s latest charity scheme on my desk in ten minutes! And where’s Parlouzer? Anyone seen him?" Knuckles growled, his patience visibly thinning.

Still on the phone, Amy threw up a hand in a half-apology, half-dismissal. "Yes, Mr. White, it’s almost done!" She barely paused between notes and the phone call. "Give me a minute—yeah, hold on, I’m getting to that—"

Miles, ever the peacemaker, darted toward Knuckles, nearly stumbling over his own feet. He handed the proofs over, flashing a nervous grin. "He’ll be here, Mr. White. Nikki’s just running... you know... a little late." Miles’s voice held optimism, though deep down, he was unsure of Nikki’s whereabouts.

Knuckles unrolled the newspaper with an unimpressed grunt. "Late again? That hedgehog’s the first one out the door but can’t get to work on time to save his life."

Suddenly, a blur of blue zipped through the front door —thankfully unnoticed by the rest of the newsroom. Nikki Parlouzer, his trademark grin in place, rushed in, trying to appear winded as he did a small jaunt into the room. His quills were slightly ruffled, his tie crooked, and his glasses slightly uneven but his confidence was unshaken.

"Sorry, sorry!" Nikki clumsily dodged desks, weaving through annoyed reporters until he reached Amy's. "Sorry I’m late, Ames."

Amy hung up the phone with an exasperated sigh, her gaze sharp as she turned to face Nikki. "What took you so long?"

Nikki scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. "Ah... traffic. It was a nightmare."

Amy arched an eye ridge before fixing Nikki’s glasses making him blush. "Traffic? Nikki, you take the train. What kind of traffic did you run into?"

Nikki smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "Foot traffic?"

Amy rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto her lips as she headed toward the breakroom for a second cup of coffee. Nikki followed, awkwardly dodging the fast-moving staff, straightening his tie and fixing his quills as he tried to keep pace with her.

"So, what’d I miss?" he asked, flashing his usual charm.

Before Amy could answer, Knuckles stormed over, cutting between the two with a sharp glare. His newspaper jabbed into Nikki’s chest. "What you missed, Parlouzer, is your chance to get started on the story about Robotnik’s fundraiser! It’s his biggest one yet, and you’re already two hours behind schedule."

Nikki’s grin faltered for just a second, but he quickly bounced back, giving a mock salute. "On it, boss! I’ll have it done faster than you can say chili dog."

Amy sighed but couldn’t help a faint smile. "Just make sure it’s done, Nikki. I’m not covering for you again."

Nikki nodded, shooting Amy a grateful look as he hurried to his desk. In the background, Miles rushed by with more papers, matching the newsroom’s chaotic energy. "Glad you could make it, Nikki! We’ve got to get those shots to the press, and Amy’s got a lead on which Metropolis officials are attending the event."

Nikki settled into his chair, spinning around once before stopping to grab a pen—only to feel an envelope in his pocket. "Oh right, I need to—" He was just about to get up when Amy reappeared, placing a mug of coffee on his desk with a teasing smile. "What’s on your mind, Nikki? Besides lousy excuses for being late."

Nikki smiled back, his usual charm flickering as he leaned toward her, holding up the invitation. "What are your plans for Saturday?"

Amy raised an eyebrow, taking a slow, deliberate sip of her coffee. "Asking me on a date, Parlouzer?"

Nikki grinned even wider, rolling his chair a little closer, the usual spark of mischief in his eyes. "Something like that. Wanna accompany me to the Charity Gala?"

Before Nikki could blink, Amy spit out her coffee in surprise. Quick as a flash, Nikki shielded the invitation from the spray, holding it up with a grin. "I’ll take that as a yes."

Amy blinked, then snatched the invitation from his hand, staring at it with wide eyes before looking back at him in disbelief. "Duh, Nikki! How did you get this?"

Nikki shrugged, leaning back casually in his chair. "I know people."

Amy shook her head, smirking as she bent down to wipe the coffee off the floor. "No, Nikki, you don't know people. I know people. Besides, there’s only one person who could’ve gotten you this invitation—and that’s Shadow Robotnik, or his assistant."

Her eyes gleamed with curiosity as she straightened up, still holding the invite. "Don’t tell me you're having a private affair with the playboy billionaire himself."

"WHAT?!" Nikki practically leapt out of his seat, a blush creeping up his cheeks as his voice cracked. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to recover his usual cool demeanor. "No, no, no, it’s not like that!"

“Oh? But you didn’t say you don’t know him…spill it.”

“I don’t know him aaand.” Nikki tried to grab the invitation out of Amy’s hand but she leaned out of the way, making him sit back down defeated a little, “I like to keep an ace up my sleeve.” 

Amy straightened up, her smirk widening as she tapped the invitation against her palm. "Fine, Parlouzer, keep your secrets. But you know, for someone who supposedly doesn’t know him, you got real flustered when I brought up the question."

Nikki froze for a split second, caught off guard by her observation. He quickly flashed his signature grin again, but his laugh was a little shakier than usual. "W-well, I mean, that’s a hefty accusation, ya know? Besides, he’s a handsome guy—who wouldn’t get flustered thinking about him?"

He was practically rambling now, his voice speeding up as he tried to cover his tracks. Amy gave him a slow, suspicious look, raising one eyebrow.

"C’mon, Ames, do you wanna go or not?" Nikki finally blurted, trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground.

Amy didn’t answer right away. She took a sip of her coffee —or what was left of it— her eyes twinkling with mischief as she leaned in just a little closer. "Of course I want to go... but what I really want to know is, should I be jealous?"

Nikki blinked, the color rising in his cheeks again. He opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out at first. "Jealous? Wh—no! It’s not... I mean, it’s not like that!"

Amy just smiled, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "Uh-huh. Sure, Nikki."

Nikki opened his mouth to defend himself, but the familiar booming voice of Mr. White rang out from across the room. "Parlouzer! Rose! Get to work or you’ll be covering the dog show next!"

Amy rolled her eyes before getting up to walk away, fanning herself with the invite.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night then, wear something nice~” She winked and sauntered back to her desk, leaving Nikki sitting there.

As he watched her walk off, Nikki's thoughts drifted, now fully focused on the thought of seeing Shadow—or as he knew him, Bathog. His stomach flipped, not with fear, but with the weight of the secret he’d been carrying for so long. How much easier would things be if Shadow knew the truth? Knew that Nikki Parlouzer was actually Supersonic? Maybe then he wouldn’t always feel like he had to keep part of himself hidden from the brooding hero.

It wasn’t that Shadow had anything against Supersonic—far from it. They fought side by side many times, and there was a strange respect between them. But that didn’t change the fact that Nikki wanted to keep his hero life and his normal life separate. Letting Shadow in on his secret felt like crossing a line he wasn’t sure he was ready for. Keeping his identity hidden wasn’t about fear of Shadow’s reaction—it was about keeping control of what little privacy he had left. In Nikki’s opinion, Shadow had always been Shadow, even before he became Bathog. But for Nikki, it was different—he was Supersonic first and 'Nikki' came after—a persona he had crafted for himself, something that felt more personal. 

Nikki groaned, covering his face with his hands, knowing it wasn’t exactly fair. He knew who Shadow really was even if Shadow didn’t know that. Bathog’s mask didn’t hide anything from Nikki—thanks to his super hearing, Nikki could hear Shadow’s voice in Bathog’s, and their heartbeats were the same. He knew who Shadow was, in and out of the cape. But Shadow didn’t know him that way. And that was the real difference.

“Would he even like me if he did know?” 

As far as Nikki knew, Bathog saw Supersonic as “part of the job”, to Nikki they teamed up out of necessity not choice—even now. But what if he could see his “normal” self as more than that? The chances of their paths crossing outside of hero-ing were slim, but Nikki figured if Shadow ever fell for him, it wouldn’t be as Supersonic.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he mulled over the possibilities. The idea of Shadow not knowing his secret created a wall—one that would always be there, unless he decided to break it down.

Nikki shook off the thought, pushing his glasses up and trying to focus on his newsroom life, not his superhero one. Maybe one day Shadow will know who Nikki really is. “Just…not yet…”

“Who are you talking to?” came a voice over Nikki’s shoulder. He yelped, toppling out of his chair as Miles peeked down at him. “Oh... sorry.”

[I am having a little too much fun with this, my inner DC nerd is genuinely showing. Small fact, in the DC universe there are different ways Superman finds out who Batman is, sometimes its Batman who finds out who Superman is first. But my favorite way is that Superman recognizes Bruce's voice and his heart beat which I thought was oddly romantic lol and it perfectly matched this since I'm basing this fanfic off of @blu-ish 's art where Supersonic knows who Bathog is (seemingly before Bathog I'm assuming). Thanks for reading! Part 3 coming soon! Hopefully you like this part ^^]

[bokutoko]

oomf...,, idk how to request but,, hoshiumi fic,, abt height difference... pleek 🥹? ty

say cheese!

character: korai hoshiumi

word count: 776

warning(s): tall!reader, fluff, summertime (it’s hot)

content: even in the unbearable summer heat, you and hoshiumi are picture-perfect. <3

a/n: hi anon!!! apologies for the late response (i’ve been vacationing before school starts back EW), and thank you for the request (i was at disney for a day so that was my inspiration)! i’ve also actually never written for hoshiumi, so i hope this is to your liking!

Disneyland lied when they said it was the happiest place on earth.

With the heat index at 41°C, you thought you were going to die from heat exhaustion. No matter how much water you drank the day prior, you felt yourself growing fainter by the minute.

“Koraiiiiii,” you whined as you walked through the park to the next ride, “can you buy me a water?”

Hoshiumi cut his eyes up at you, a playful scowl contorting his face. “This is why I told you to bring a water bottle!” He’d been so excited to come visit the park, nothing was going to stop this day—not even your slow death from the heat.

“I did, but could you get me a cold one? Please? I’m dying right now.” You put on your best puppy eyes, your lip jutting out for extra emphasis. He grimaced, trying to stay strong and look away from you.

He then sighed, knowing he lost this fight. With an overly dramatic eye roll, he walked to the nearest stand to buy you a water, grumbling, “I knew we were gonna end up spending $100 on water. I’d much rather buy a lightsaber, but noooo…” Ignoring him, you tried taking a picture of the castle, but your phone didn’t seem to do it justice. You frowned, unhappy with the pics, and quickly deleted all the ones you took.

Upon his return, you smiled at the two water bottles he held. “Thank youuu,” you sang happily with a chaste kiss to his cheek before taking a big swig from your new bottle.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his blush blending in with the slight sunburn on his cheeks, “Okay! Now it’s time to go ride—“

“Excuse me?”

You both turned to see a smiling cast member holding a camera, and Hoshiumi let out a quiet, exasperated sigh. He just wanted to ride some of the rides!!!

“I saw you taking a picture of the castle, would you two like a photo together in front of it?”

Your eyes lit up at the idea—you and Hoshiumi didn’t have many pictures together, so you wanted one that was special. Even though you were sweaty and overheated, you agreed, “I would love it!”

After the photographer placed you both in the best angle with the castle perfectly behind, she called, “Say cheese!” On cue, Hoshiumi flashed his winning, slightly crooked, smile that still made you giddy. His confident, yet cheeky, eyes gave him the boyish charm that you adore.

The photographer was pleased with the result, so she then added, “Now a silly one!”

Without thinking about it, you reached your arm over, resting it right on his head, as if using him as an arm rest. You looked to the camera with a shit-eating grin. An immediate half-annoyed, half-amused expression crossed Hoshiumi’s face as he met your eyes, before you both started laughing. You were the only one able to tease him about his height without any repercussions; he knew—coming from you—that it was all in good fun. His only scolds came halfheartedly when he joked, “So rude!” with a gentle push.

When the photographer showed you the photos, you noticed your eyes were closed in the silly picture when it was taken. Before you could ask for another, though, you looked at them one more time.

Upon closer examination, you noticed, unbeknownst to you at that time, how Hoshiumi looked up at you. In one specific picture, he had a cheeky smile that was full of laughter as he gazed up at you. He was taking in all your features, with the thin sheen of sweat that gave you a slight glow. Seeing the hearts in his eyes, you felt a blush creep on your face. You knew that look in his eye, the love radiating from the picture. He didn’t need to say the words, “I love you;” his eyes did it for him.

It was perfect timing—a picture captured of him falling in love with you once again.

“And how exactly can I get these pictures?”

—

Beaming at the new photos in your camera roll, your mind was completely distracted from the heat that prickled at your skin. Maybe Disneyland was the happiest place on Earth…

You were getting ready to post the pictures at the same time as you and Hoshiumi finally reached the line for your favorite ride—it would’ve been his first time riding it!

Until you heard the young attendant snicker and ask, “Ya sure you’re tall enough to ride this, kiddo?”

You just sighed when you heard Hoshiumi’s red-hot, “What did you just say?”

… It was gonna be a long day.

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please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2024.

[mybworlds]

Blind date

Pairing: dom!Javier Peña x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: It's been a while since you had a blind date, tonight you have one. You know how these meetings end, but you can't imagine his sexual choices.

Series warnings: porn with lil plot, smut (18+ MDNI), BDSM, use of you, use of alcohol, use of spanish petnames, you character is shorter than Javi, the main character has female features, use of handcuffs, two consenting adults, dom!Javier, dom/sub dynamics, creampie, oral sex (m), fingering, masturbation (m and f), PinV protected. Blind date, be careful do not imitate!

A/N Here we go, I just came up with this idea and wrote it in just under an hour, if there are any mistakes excuse me and take this one-shot for what it is. This is my first time writing about BDSM practices so if it's not entirely accurate, I apologize.

Thanks @saradika for the divider.

You haven't had a blind date in a while. The last time was a few years ago and it was a disaster. The guy you've been chatting with for a few weeks turned out to be an horny twenty year old boy. You told him he wasn't even old enough to drink and deleted the app. You didn't want to have these surprises anymore.

But you also have needs and above all you don't want to commit to anyone.

But that's another story.

You listened to a friend and therefore downloaded that app again, but this time you are very careful who you talk to. You make it clear straight away what you want and the age of the person you want to date. Or rather, fuck. Because these dating sites are nothing more than that.

You're wearing a little black dress, pulling your hair back into a braid, a light makeup and you're ready.

Tonight you have an appointment with a certain Javier07, you sincerely hope that that number does not indicate his date of birth!

You have arranged to meet in a place in the center of the city for 9 p.m. You're a little nervous, you hope it's not another meeting where you explain to the kid on duty why he can't drink or do certain things with you!

You drink two shots of bourbon at the bar, you bite your lower lip a little nervously and look left and right. You don't know what he looks like since you talked to him, but he hasn't a profile photo.

From the way he talked he seemed like a person who knows what he's doing, he hasn't told you much about his work. In short, he was able to maintain a certain mystery about himself and that intrigues you a lot.

Every person who enters you turns around, but no one approaches you. You think he stoods you up.

It's almost midnight, you leave a note and leave.

Fuck apps, fuck dating sites, fuck Javier07 whoever you are!

You're outside the club and you're fiddling with your purse, when a car flashes at you making you turn around, you fear he's the usual idiot so you ignore him. The car flashes and then honks. You turn around, but only to tell him to fuck off and that you've already had a bad night, you come closer and are about to call him an asshole, but he's the one who interrupts you, "Starlight?

It's your nickname on the app, you're confused "Javier07?!"

"In person!" he exclaims. "I'm sorry I stood you up, but I can't risk being seen like this!"

He's still mysterious and it really intrigues you.

"Do you want to go for a ride my precious Starlight?" he gives you a crooked smile.

"It depends on what kind of ride." You reply with a grin and resuming the tone of your conversations.

He smiles back at you, "A ride that will make you scream with pleasure," he replies, "Do you have to do some more tests to see if it's me?"

You exchange another smile, then ask him, "Where are you taking me?"

"At my place, if you trust me enough." he provokes you, you get into his car, answering his question in a way.

When you arrive at his house, you realize that he doesn't spend much time there judging by the few pieces of furniture and the considerable amount of dust on the furniture.

"So, what do you do?" you ask him, looking at his face for the first time in the light. He has well-defined features, big dark eyes, a pronounced nose, a well-groomed moustache, seemingly soft lips. It could have been worse.

"Take a guess," he says sounding so mysterious.

You narrow your eyes, you've never been good at these games. Does he want to play a role-playing game?

"Um, I've never been good at these games."

He smiles sideways, becoming even sexier in your eyes, why hasn't he already taken you to bed and fucked you properly?

"I'll give you a hint," he says, dangling a pair of handcuffs from his index finger.

You cross your arms, "Am I under arrest?" you ask him, raising an eyebrow and smiling lasciviously.

He smiles back, approaching you, looking you from head to toe, "Are you a good or a bad girl, cariño?"

"Take a guess," you respond by taking a step towards him too, looking him in the eye from bottom to top.

“Did you put on this dress for me?” he asks you in a low, soothing voice.

"I promised you, you remember?" you reply, "You owe me a drink or two at least," you add in a low voice.

"Sure, nena" he says, bending down towards you and with the excuse of taking a bottle from behind you, he sticks his nose in your hair "You smell so good," he tells you, then repeats the same gesture and this time he nuzzles your exposed shoulder.

He's teasing you and you like it.

"I like you, little girl. You're not afraid." he tells you, taking a half step back to open the bottle of tequila. He pours it into two glasses and then offers it to you, "I don't normally drink it like this, but I don't have anything better." he shrugs.

"'s okay, I forgive ya." you say grabbing your glass and starting to sip your drink.

He drinks it all in one gulp, then squints his eyes for a moment and pours himself more tequila.

"This isn't your first blind date, is it?" he asks, gulping down the drink again.

You finish your drink and hold out the glass for a second round, "No. And from the way you're acting, I'd say it's not for you either, cop." you tease him biting your lower lip.

"And who told you who I am?" he asks you, putting down the glass and the bottle.

"The handcuffs, you clever guy."

He replies with a crooked smile, "I might have gotten them at a sex shop!"

Right.

"You're a smart guy. As well as provocative." you say, tilting your head to the side and leaning against the cabinet behind you. "So, do we want to do something or do we just look at each other and provoke like in chat?"

"Show me," he says in an amused tone.

"Don't be naive with me, Javier07." You say, taking off your heels and placing your feet on the cold tiles of his apartment.

"Only Javier," he says, coming closer, "and now take off your dress." He orders you in a soothing voice, sending a shock through you.

"Aren't you going to give me a kiss first?" you tease, nibbling on your lower lip with a little grin.

He comes closer to you and takes your chin between his fingers, he doesn't kiss you, he gently bites your lower lip and then licks it slowly making you close your eyes and hold your breath.

"No," he answers before stepping back and giving you the space to do his bidding.

You lift your dress over your head and slip it off, remaining in your bra and black thong. Javier scrutinizes you carefully and his gaze alone is enough to make your nipples harden.

"You look amazing," he says, placing a kiss on your neck and collarbones, then running his tongue back the other way. Your skin feels like it's on fire, “Come,” he says in a husky voice, leading you to his bedroom.

He makes you lie down on the bed before climbing on top of you and watching you surrender to his will. His eyes seem to shine in the dimly light of the room. He finally kisses you and as you had imagined his lips are soft, he devours your lips and tongue together. You find yourself moaning in his mouth before slipping his hands into his hair and that's when he stops.

"Don't." he says an inch from your lips, you look at him already feeling breathless "Take off your bra and thong," you swallow looking him in the eyes for a long time as if to register his question.

"But you're still... Um... " you start to reply, absolutely perplexed by the direction the evening is taking.

"Just do it, chica." you take a deep breath and obey "Very good," he adds enunciating the two words well and making your skin crawl "You are beautiful, now don't move." he says again and this time he takes your hands carrying them behind your back and caging them in the handcuffs.

He leans down towards you and that's when he kisses you again, he sprinkles kisses and little bites on your neck that makes you moan with pleasure, his fingers pinch and tease your nipples gently, but firmly making you squirm beneath him and eager for more.

He lifts himself completely off of you and you look at him puzzled, "On your belly," he orders and you obey again.

He grabs you by the handcuffs, holding your hands slightly higher, then hits one of your buttocks hard, once, twice, three times, then moves on to the other. Even though it hurts, you like it.

First he hits and then he caresses your skin, then he stops.

You are not used to this kind of practices, usually you are used to a relationship where you have an active role, not as a submissive like this. However, it is not so bad.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel his fingertip caressing the entrance to your intimacy with circular movements. You gasp, turning to the side your head, "Fuck," you groan feeling your vision blur.

You let out a little cry of excitement when you feel his finger enter you and get wet with your moisture, "You're so hot. So tight. And all for me." he continues with that slow exhausting movement that takes you further and further towards the abyss. You bite your lip repeatedly and moan without restraint.

"My turn," he says interrupting that sweet torture and helping you lie on your back and then sitting on your knees, you see him take off his black shirt with calculated slowness so you have the time and opportunity to appreciate his toned, but not pumped-up, body. He also unbuckles his belt and then takes off his pants.

Well, you don't hide the fact that you've had more than one sexual encounter and with more than one man, but he has a strange power over you, he fascinates you and instills a certain fear in you all at the same time.

He releases his cock which turns out to be quite huge, you look at him with your lips parted and your eyes almost wide open. It's beautiful, thick and you can't wait to run your tongue over his pink bulbous tip.

"I know you can't wait to choke on my cock." He says and it's true, you look at him with pleading eyes before biting your lower lip, "I knew it, mi pequeña pícara!" then he pulls you forward slightly so that you can lean further forward towards his shaft.

You open your mouth to welcome it between your lips, but it's huge so you have to open your lips even more. Welcoming his cock between your lips is an experience as erotic as satisfying, his sighs then together with his curses make you wet even more, his tense face and closed eyes make you take it all the way down your throat moaning and groaning with pleasure.

You see him almost do violence to himself as he withdraws from your welcoming throat and mouth, you see it from his clenched teeth and his eyes that have become narrow and even darker. His shaft comes out glossy of your saliva, he needs a few moments to regain full control of the situation, you could take advantage of it, but you have understood that he likes to command in the bedroom and once in a while you're okay with it.

You're face down again when he slips on a condom and submerges himself completely between your warm, wet folds. You open your mouth in a frantic search for air, and he immediately pumps himself in and out of you at great speed. His curses and your grunts are getting louder and louder, you don't care to contain yourself, the pleasure you're feeling is immense, you feel your insides almost contracting from the burning pleasure, your vision becomes increasingly blurry as your orgasm approaches.

One of his hands grabs your braid pulling you slightly back towards him, while with the other he opens your legs a little more before placing it on your side and start pumping again.

“Oh, fuck . . . I'm about to come, I'm about to come,” you squeal, squeezing your eyes shut, then your climax explodes loudly.

Your orgasm lasts a few more moments as he continues to push himself into you, then with an animalistic sound he comes too.

He slowly releases his grip on your hip and he takes off your handcuffs placing his palms on either side of your face for support himself and recover from the intercourse, his nose is buried in your hair inhaling your scent.

“It was an amazin' blind date and a great ride,” he says breathlessly.

You smile, "Yeah, it was. Would you like another one?"

[soulessjourney]

His Love Story

Paring: young!Coriolanus x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Coriolanus came to realize what he had lost when it was already too late.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of cheating, reader throwing things at Coriolanus

A/N: I apologize; unfortunately, the works I promised you for this week will not be posted. I've encountered some issues with my university and have been busy trying to get them to fulfill their responsibilities. However, I wanted to provide you with something to read. I hope this little angsty one-shot serves as a small compensation for what I was unable to post this week. I promise you that the other works will be posted before the end of the year.

The holidays were meant to be festive and warm, so why did Coriolanus feel so cold? The house lay dark, enveloped in an icy chill that seemed to freeze everything within. The once radiant glow of Christmas lights failed to cast their comforting warmth across the rooms of his home. He found himself alone, stripped of your presence—no longer able to hear your declarations of love or your pleading to have him place the star atop the tree, especially after you nearly tumbled from the ladder, too stubborn to seek assistance.

----

"Coryo, please, I really need your help unless you want to witness a first lady take a tumble from this ladder again. I don’t know why you insisted on getting such a massive tree," you grumble, holding the golden star in your hand, while kicking at the ground in front of you, the fluffy socks on your feet sliding against the tile.

Coriolanus raises a brow and lets out a chuckle before stepping forward and gently pressing his lips to your forehead. "I asked if you wanted help and you refused, telling me you'd be able to do it," he shrugs. It was true; you had snapped at him five minutes prior, insisting you could place the star at the top of the tree without his help. You knew Coriolanus wouldn’t assist until you fluttered your eyelashes and asked him nicely, but being you, that was unlikely to happen.

The two of you were hosting a grand holiday celebration as in previous years, and Coriolanus had suggested getting a large tree for the foyer, so it would be the first thing guests saw upon arrival. At the time, you loved the idea. However, now that you volunteered to decorate it, thinking it would be a great way to spend time together, regret was creeping in. "Please, I don’t think my ankle can take another leap off the ladder to save my life," you grumble, lifting your head once Coriolanus grabs the star with a laugh.

You watch his every move as he scales the small ladder and reaches up to place the star at the top. Once he's back on the ground, his arms wrap around your waist, and his lips land on your cheek. "The tree looks amazing, Darling. The guests are going to love how beautiful it is," he whispers, brushing your hair back, his eyes softening as he looks down at you.

Smiling up at him, you lean up and pause just before your lips touch his. "The star is crooked. Please fix it before I decide to topple this tree," you hum, patting his chest before turning on your heel to begin decorating the living room, leaving Coriolanus grumbling about how much of a tease you are.

----

Coriolanus stood in the foyer, his gaze lingering on the space where the tree would usually stand. He could still hear the echoes of your laughter bouncing off the walls and recall the moments when you hummed while adorning the tree with ornaments. Yet, those memories seemed to darken abruptly, and he felt a tightening sensation in his chest, prompting him to massage the muscle over his heart in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. Moving toward the grand hall, Coriolanus glanced at the portraits lining the walls. Each one still held photos of your wedding and some captured moments from when he first became President and you the First Lady. Pausing at the top of the stairs, he halted, allowing his eyes to sweep the room, searching for any sign of life.

---

"Coryo, there you are!" you grin, catching the attention of your husband. Wrapping your arm around his, you tug him down the stairs. "Tigris has been wanting to speak to you, and I’ve had a run-in with the mayor of Two. Don't worry, though; he won't be bothering you until later. I ensured his wife would keep him busy. The Mayors of Five and Eight are also eager to talk to you, and they've made it clear they wish to do it sooner rather than later. About what? I'm not sure; I couldn't get much out of them. They were pretty cryptic," you say, missing the loving gaze aimed towards you as the two of you weave through the crowd.

Coriolanus felt blessed to have a wife as dedicated as you. You were well-versed in politics and adept at handling party guests, much better at welcoming and mingling than he was. He appreciated how you kept him informed about who needed to speak with him or requested his presence, ensuring there were no surprises as the event progressed. Tigris often teased that you were more of a secretary due to how efficiently you organized things for him or rearranged his schedule to accommodate last-minute meetings or events. Though her comments sometimes irked him, you never once complained about assisting him. In fact, when he tried to lighten your workload, you argued that it was your duty as his wife to ensure things were organized so he could come to bed at a reasonable hour.

Coming to a stop, he spins you around and presses his lips against yours, drawing out a surprised gasp. When he leans back, he can't help but grin at your expression, taking your face in his hands. "I am extremely thankful to have you by my side. I know I don’t say it enough, but I do appreciate everything you do for me. I love you," he whispers, leaning down to place a small kiss against your nose, noticing how your eyes well up at his words.

Pulling him closer by his shirt, you plant a small kiss on his lips before looking around. "Go talk to your cousin and then the two mayors. Once you're done, come back to the bedroom; I have a surprise for you," you whisper in his ear, shooting him a sly smile as you slip away from him and head toward your shared bedroom.

---

Coriolanus found himself standing in the center of the tiled floor, the very spot where you both had been not long ago, vivid memories flooding his mind. His skin still tingled from your touch, and his lips retained the sensation of where you had kissed him before slipping away to your room. Shaking his head, he stormed out of the room, catching the eye of one of the maids as he walked past.

"Close it off, tear it apart, rebuild it—I don't care what you do. I don’t want to see that room anymore," he snapped, forcefully making his way past the maid and toward your shared bedroom. Even this space wasn’t a sanctuary. He hadn't touched a single thing since the night you stormed into the room, consumed by embarrassment and rage. He hadn't dared enter that room since things between you both began to unravel because of a foolish mistake.

The shattered flower vase you had thrown still lay beside the window, its fragments mingling with the wilted roses scattered on the floor. Your green gown lay discarded, adorned with the diamond earrings placed delicately nearby. The necklace rested in a heap next to the cracked mirror on the opposite side of the room, evidence of the impact from the small piece of metal. That night, he had been oblivious to where that argument would lead because deep down, he had refused to believe he could ever lose you.

---

Coriolanus couldn't process the force with which the door had flung open, slamming against the wall, surely leaving a small hole from the impact of the door handle. Suddenly, a flower vase filled with white roses hurtled towards him, leaving him little time to react before it crashed against the wall, shattering into fragments on the ground.

"Y/N, what the hell was that for?!" he yelled, turning towards you, anger flashing in his eyes. However, the sight before him halted any further words. There you stood, shoulders hunched, body trembling with quick breaths. But what concerned him more were the angry tears streaking down your cheeks, leaving a trail of eyeliner and mascara in their wake. Your clenched fists and tense jaw spoke volumes as you glared at him.

"I've given you the benefit of the doubt, Coriolanus Snow. I've tried being patient because you've been so engrossed in the Games, but tonight? It was the last straw. You've been distant, and it’s been a month since you touched me. Not a single brush of contact," you declared, standing taller while Coriolanus felt himself inwardly shrinking in response to your fury.

"You promised me you'd make a speech. You knew how long I worked on this campaign to help these kids have a better life. But you never showed up, and all they could talk about was how this wasn’t your priority," you snapped, tearing off your dress and tossing it aside along with your earrings.

Coriolanus stood frozen, mentally reworking his schedule before realization struck him. You had been devoted to this project for over a year, aiming to provide less fortunate children in the capital with an equal educational opportunity at the academy to build their reputations. You had poured your time and effort into tutoring these children and forging partnerships, neglecting your own home life. Tonight was the culmination of your hard work, and Coriolanus had promised to be there to support you. But he had forgotten.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I truly meant to be there, but I got caught up with Evadne. Did they approve your project?" he asked, tentatively approaching you.

You scoffed bitterly. "No, Coriolanus, they didn’t. They laughed me out of the room. Why approve a project my own husband wasn’t there to support, as he promised? A year and a half of work down the drain, and children’s futures ruined because you got caught up with your assistant." Arms crossed, you turned away, your voice softening. "You've been spending more time with her lately. Is there something going on between the two of you?"

Something flared in his eyes before he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "She's been around more, almost seeming more like my wife."

His words hung heavy in the air, and you fell silent, your breaths slowing before you ripped off your necklace and hurled it across the room, ignoring the distant sound of breaking glass. "Y/N, please, I—" he started, but your glare silenced him.

Retreating into the closet, you grabbed your clothes and slipped into a nightgown before heading for the door. "We can sleep in separate rooms since you don't see me as your wife anymore, especially after I've been working so hard for change. Talk to me when you come to your senses, Coriolanus," you murmured quietly before leaving the room, your back turned to him.

---

After that fateful night, something irreparable fractured in your relationship. Arguments became more frequent, often ending in both of you retreating to your respective corners for the rest of the day. The rift widened when you accidentally discovered Coriolanus's infidelity through Tigris. She inadvertently let slip about Coriolanus and Evadne during a lunch together. Her realization dawned too late, assuming you had already known about their affair. That revelation shattered something within you, causing you to shut down completely, intensifying the growing distance between you and Coriolanus.

Before long, you found yourself restricted within your own home. All work was mandated to be completed in your office, conveniently situated down the hall from his. You were forbidden to leave for lunches with Tigris, who was now only permitted to visit you at home. Coriolanus confined you due to his selfish reasons, leaving you feeling trapped and adrift. He foolishly believed that keeping you isolated at home would prevent you from leaving.

As he stepped into your closet, many dresses he had gifted you hung there, but one solitary item remained. It was a sweater that belonged solely to you. It was the same sweater he often found you wearing during the early hours of the morning, curled up in a chair in the dining room with a book and a cup of coffee. It became the last tangible link he had to you and, unexpectedly, his most cherished possession.

---

Seated at the dining table, you absentmindedly toyed with the ends of your sweater, awaiting Coriolanus's arrival. It marked the first time in weeks that you'd had a conversation with him, and he had promptly agreed to talk once he finished sorting through his papers. As Coriolanus entered the room, a pang of familiarity struck him; it felt reminiscent of old times when he'd find you in that very sweater, engrossed in a book. Yet, things were starkly different now. No book graced the table, and you seemed diminished in the sweater, the atmosphere devoid of the warmth it once radiated.

Sitting across from you, Coriolanus nervously wiped his hands on his pants and cleared his throat. "You mentioned wanting to speak with me. I apologize for the delay; we encountered funding issues for the upcoming fundraiser at the academy, so I had to make some calls," he said softly.

You appeared transformed from the vibrant person he had known. Your complexion was paler, your eyes lacked their former vivacity, and your hair, no longer meticulously styled, was gathered into a simple bun, stray strands framing your face. Most noticeably, your lips, once adorned with a perpetual smile upon seeing him, now curved into a permanent frown. You were no longer the same, and he knew it was his doing.

"I know about your affair with Evadne," you murmured quietly, your gaze drifting down to the ring on your finger. Coriolanus stiffened at your words. "Don’t concern yourself with her; I dismissed her as soon as I found out. I’ve been managing your schedule, just like old times."

Coriolanus looked down, nodding slowly. "It was a regrettable mistake, one that should never have happened. I have no excuse, and I apologize. I'll do whatever it takes to prove I'll never hurt you like that again," he pleaded, halting as he noticed your lack of response.

"This isn’t about your infidelity, Coriolanus. For months, we haven’t shared a bed, barely breathing the same air until now. I've tried to give you space, but you've become consumed by your work that I don't even get a glance anymore. I wouldn't bring this up unless I felt it necessary. I’ll offer you a choice: me or drowning yourself in your work," you spoke softly, twirling the ring on your finger.

Coriolanus remained silent for a moment, contemplating his next words. "I can't sacrifice my work, Y/N. I'm the President of Panem; everything hinges on me, you know that," he responded quietly. His gaze fixed on your hand as you slid off your ring and pushed it towards him. He had made his choice, and it shattered you more than you believed possible.

You hadn't expected him to relinquish his position. In truth, you had hoped he'd recognize the perfection of your life together when he balanced his personal and professional life. But he was so far gone that your once-private life had disintegrated. You loved Coriolanus dearly, but in the end, this was the best for both of you.

---

Coriolanus removes the sweater from the hanger, clutching it tightly to his chest, then presses it close to his face, inhaling its familiar scent. Crumpling to the ground, he clings to the garment, still redolent of roses and lavender. The fragrance of roses, his doing, a constant presence around you, reminiscent of moments when you tended to the flowers in the rose garden. The lavender, your choice, believed to alleviate the stress that often burdened you. He cherished the scent, often burying his nose in your hair to catch the calming aroma of lavender, a solace during his stressful work times.

Tears trickled down his cheeks, escalating into audible sobs as reality sank in. It had been months since you departed, and Coriolanus, preoccupied with work, attempted to fill his days to avoid noticing your absence. Yet, with the approaching holidays, he couldn’t ignore that you wouldn’t be there to greet him with tender morning kisses or engage in playful debates over home decorations. You were gone, and he had lost you. This, he realized, was his love story—a narrative that ended in losing you. Despite his efforts to locate you, you had vanished into thin air, taking his heart with you.

---

A/N: While writing this, I kept listening to 'Love Story' on repeat, and suddenly, the song felt much more heavier and beautifully sad. I hope you enjoyed reading this one-shot, my holiday gift to you. I promise to diligently work on the next parts of my projects and get them up as soon as possible

Tags: @andwhatofthelight @sabrinasbd @snowlandstop @obsesseddd @quicksilversg1rl @runningfrom2am @weeeoosworld @poppyflower-22 @butlersluvbot @lugiastark @alana4610 @i-love-ptv

[angeliqueiguess]

“Focus!” (j.jh)

021. unknown warnings: swearing, drama, like, a lot. fulla angst

The sound of the doorbell made Y/n jump slightly on the sofa of her apartment. Instinctively, she glanced at the wall clock—it read two o’clock in the afternoon. She looked back at the door, as if confirming the time could somehow prepare her for what was about to happen. But the doorbell rang again, pulling her out of her reverie. With a nervous sigh, she got up and walked to the door. Upon opening it, there stood Jaehyun, greeting her with a tense smile that resembled more of a grimace than genuine warmth.

“Come in,” Y/n said, her voice barely above a whisper yet clear enough for him to hear. Jaehyun nodded silently and stepped inside. Suddenly, the small, warm, and cozy apartment felt tighter, the air thicker with his presence. The waiting was over, and now that he was there, Y/n felt words stuck in her throat.

“Would you like a glass of water?” she asked, more to fill the awkward silence than out of genuine hospitality.

“Yes, thank you,” Jaehyun replied softly. Y/N took her time as she headed to the kitchen, feeling the weight of the atmosphere grow heavier with each passing second. She wanted this moment to be over, to let the tension dissipate like steam from her third cup of tea.

When she returned with the glass of water, she froze. Jaehyun had turned his back to her, holding a picture frame that rested on a shelf—the very one she had thought about hiding before he arrived but had ultimately forgotten to move. Idiot, she scolded herself silently. Clearing her throat to get his attention, Jaehyun turned slowly, still holding the picture. A mix of nostalgia and melancholy played on his face, as if the weight of memories had suddenly crashed down on him.

“I still remember that day,” Jaehyun murmured, settling down on the sofa with the frame still in his hands. “It was when we made you believe that sand was sweet.”

Y/n managed a crooked smile as her eyes fell on the photo. There they were, three happy kids on a sunny beach: Johnny and Jaehyun, both around eight, and little Y/n, just six, posing together with the sea behind them.

Finally, Jaehyun placed the picture frame on the table, as if the memory burned his fingers, and accepted the glass of water Y/n handed him. He took a sip, letting the nostalgia mingle with the awkward silence that hung between them. She stood there for a moment longer, gazing at the photo and feeling the years that had separated them weigh as heavily as those happy memories.

“Yes,” Y/n replied as she sat beside him, leaving a comfortable space between them. “It was a bit cruel to make me eat sand, but... it’s my favorite picture.” She smiled nostalgically, her gaze fixed on the photograph on the coffee table. Jaehyun nodded, a faint smile gracing his lips, the kind that emerges when a happy memory is tinged with a hint of embarrassment.

Y/N turned her gaze away from the photo and looked at him. The weight of the words she had held back for so long felt unbearable. It’s now or never, she told herself.

“I’m sorry for leaving yesterday,” she finally blurted out. Jaehyun met her eyes, sensing the discomfort in them.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he replied sincerely, turning toward her. “I understand.”

She observed him for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek, until the doubts that had eaten away at her surfaced.

“Why now?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Jaehyun frowned, not grasping her meaning. Noticing his confusion, Y/n rephrased her question. “Why do you want to apologize now?”

He took a deep breath before responding, as if he had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

“Because I wasn’t ready before,” he admitted with sincerity. “But now I am.”

Y/n wanted to say something, but the words remained stuck in her throat. Grateful for the silence, Jaehyun pressed on.

“I owe your brother a thank you,” Jaehyun began, his voice wavering slightly. “He’s the one who helped me see things clearly... who pushed me to find the courage I couldn’t find on my own.” He rubbed his palms over his knees, almost compulsively, as if trying to steady himself against the weight of his own words. His fingers clenched, then relaxed, as though grounding himself. "I wanted to apologize so many times, for so long,” Jaehyun continued, his voice a whisper by the end. His eyes lifted to meet hers, pleading, yet soft, almost afraid of how she'd respond. He hesitated, then added, “It’s okay if you can’t say anything right now... I just need you to hear me.”

Y/N settled into the chair, restless. She nodded slightly, giving him permission to continue. She knew this was an important step, even as the knot in her stomach kept tightening.

“I completely understand why you hate me,” Jaehyun said, his voice barely above a whisper, weighed down by guilt. “I used to think... ‘hate’ was such a harsh word. But now, looking back, realizing what I did to you, all the hurt I caused, I know that feeling is justified. It’s valid.” His words trembled, and he let out a heavy, trembling sigh, as though each syllable dragged some hidden weight from deep within him, one he’d kept buried far too long. “All these years, I hid behind someone I never wanted to be,” he continued, his voice breaking. “Someone I promised you I’d never become.” There was a pain in his eyes, raw and unguarded, the kind of pain that only surfaces after years of regret and self-loathing. He looked down, as though ashamed to even meet her gaze, his hands tightening into fists as he tried to contain the shame he felt.

Y/n listened in silence, her face impassive, but inside, a storm was raging. She battled between two versions of herself: the fourteen-year-old girl who still carried the pain of abandonment and the present-day Y/n, trying to maintain control and not fall apart.

“Do you have any idea how much damage you caused?” she finally asked, her voice barely holding together as she fought back the tears that glistened in her eyes. Jaehyun looked down, unable to face her. He’d promised himself he’d never hurt her, never be the reason for her pain. But now, seeing her like this—seeing what he’d caused—made him feel more hollow and ashamed than he’d ever imagined. “I spent so many nights crying,” Y/N continued, her voice catching. “Nights when Johnny or Mom would sit by me, trying to reassure me, telling me you’d come back.” She let out a shaky breath, her words laced with years of quiet heartbreak. “And even though I knew, deep down, that you wouldn’t, I still waited for you. I still wished for you every day.”

Jaehyun closed his eyes for a moment, as if he could push away the weight of his own mistakes, but he failed. The damage was done, and there was no option but to face it.

“I swear I’m sorry, Y/n,” he began, his voice trembling, weighed down by years of unspoken regret. “I hate myself every time I remember what I did to you. I was just a stupid kid… I know that doesn’t excuse it, but even now it kills me, knowing that one careless, selfish decision meant losing you, breaking something I can never fix.” His voice faltered, and she could see his eyes, red and glassy, struggling to hold back tears. “It’s okay if you still hate me. I deserve that. I just… I just need you to know that since I saw you again, I’m trying to be better every single day. For you, for myself. And the love I had back then, the one I thought I’d lost? It’s still here, Y/N… only now, it’s a thousand times stronger.”

Jaehyun looked at her with an intensity that nearly took her breath away. Y/n dropped her gaze to the floor, feeling emotions swirl in her chest. She didn’t know how to respond or even what to feel. Jaehyun’s words had been overwhelming.

“Jaehyun, I... I’m sorry,” she murmured, getting to her feet and walking toward the kitchen, searching for space to breathe and think. But before she could fully distance herself, he gently grabbed her arm.

“I understand if we’re not on the same page,” Jaehyun whispered, his voice barely holding steady, every word a plea. “I respect that, I do. I just… I just needed you to know how I feel.” His hand shook as he held hers, clinging to that last thread of connection. “Everything I did was out of fear—fear of not being enough, of facing my own insecurities. I thought pushing you away would protect me from that... from everything I was too afraid to confront.”

A tear slipped down his cheek as he searched her face for even a glimmer of forgiveness, his eyes dark and haunted. “All I can ask is that you forgive me. Please, Y/n. I know it might be too late, but I need you to know how sorry I am.” He released her hand, feeling the ache of loss settle into his chest, and watched her walk away.

“I need time to think,” Y/n said, not turning around, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to escape. “This is too much for me.”

She took refuge in the kitchen, resting her hands on the edge of the sink as she tried to control her breathing. She wasn’t going to cry. She had to face this clearly, without being swept away by the tide of emotions engulfing her.

After a few minutes, she gathered enough strength and returned to the living room. She found Jaehyun whimpering and wiping his tears with the sleeve of his sweater, a gesture that made Y/n realize this wasn’t the distant boy she had known over the years. He wasn’t the perfect, unattainable star from the magazines. There, in front of her, stood the sixteen-year-old Jaehyun she had left behind, broken and lost but authentic.

“Jaehyun...” she said from the kitchen doorway, her voice firmer than she expected. He looked up, his eyes still puffy and his skin flushed from crying. “I forgive you,” Y/n whispered.

She didn’t need to say more. The moment the words left her lips, Jaehyun quickly got up and enveloped her in a desperate embrace, as if fearing she might vanish at any moment. At first, she froze, surprised by the intensity of the moment. But it only took her a heartbeat to reciprocate, sinking into his arms and allowing all the emotions that had built up over the years to flood out in that embrace.

Y/n remained in Jaehyun’s arms, feeling the irregular rhythm of his breath against her hair. The hug was warm, comforting, almost like it could erase the years of pain between them. But something inside her felt out of place, as if another truth loomed over them.

“Jaehyun…” she whispered, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze, unsure of what the future held for them. “I don’t know what comes next,” she admitted softly, the weight of uncertainty palpable.

“Me neither,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face with trembling fingers. “But I want to be here with you, right now.”

In that moment, Y/n chose to let go of the worries that plagued her. She silenced the doubts in her mind and allowed Jaehyun to kiss her, a kiss that held the weight of years unspoken, filled with tenderness and uncertainty. As their lips met, the world around them faded, and in that breathless moment, all the pain and loss melted away. When the kiss finally ended, they stayed close, foreheads touching, breaths mingling as they tried to catch their breath.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Jaehyun said softly, a smile breaking through his tears. Y/n returned the smile, though the weight of their past still loomed over them like a shadow.

For now, that was enough.

Hours passed—almost three—during which Jaehyun and Y/n reminisced about their childhood, sharing stories that brought smiles to their faces. Even though they couldn’t cover everything they wanted to, their gentle laughter helped lighten the heavy emotions that had lingered between them for years. Eventually, the moment to say goodbye arrived. Jaehyun left with a genuine smile, reassuring her that he would see her at work the next day.

As Y/N closed the door behind him, she leaned against it, feeling conflicted about everything that had just unfolded. Their conversation had been intense, a whirlwind of emotions that made her eager to share everything with her best friend. Just as she was about to take that first step, her phone buzzed with a message that completely threw her off balance.

prev//next masterlist.

Angie's note: what the flipping flip? this was a rollercoaster of things (dont hate me hehe) let me know what y'all think! hope u like this one and please make sure y'all take care of yourselves and drink water! love yaaa! <3 <3 <3

Taglist: @apolloxxivmin @aerivrs @chan-yeoldelling @livingdoll-hara @cryingforjae @heavenjae @milanco @sibwol @neocupidd @minkyuncutie @miniature-tragedy @kukkurookkoo @kodasity @injunnie-lemon @thegracerammy @hahaechans (TAGLIST OPEN!)

[nev3rfound]

here with you : j.m

something a bit different, my love for pedro is only growing and this series is breaking my heart.

sweet night in with joel, pre apocolypse. (established relationship between joel x fem reader) 1.2k

lotta fluff (cause this man deserves it), implied smut but not explicit, no spoilers for tlou. 

Sitting on the sofa, your eyes wandered over to the clock. It’s already gone 8.

With a sigh, you rearrange the couch cushions, nestling yourself in as you change the channels knowing you’re in for a late one tonight.

A few hours pass by the time you hear his truck pull up outside, catching the reflection of the headlights dimming in the glass frames of photos lining the wall.

The door quietly opens and closes, of course, he’d be conscious of waking you, hell, he’s had plenty of practice. “Wondered where you got to.” You call out, letting him know he doesn’t have to pace around silently or attempt to.

Joel chuckles to himself, hanging his jacket up on the crooked hook, and watches it slip off once again before trying to straighten the hook. "I gotta fix that damn thing."

Lifting your head up from the warm spot you formed on the sofa, a tired smile graces your lips. “You’re home.” With a sleep heavy voice, you lift your arms up, motioning for him to join.

"I told you not to be waiting up on me." Joel begins to walk toward you, each step heavier than the last which you can’t help but note. His eyes barely manage to remain open, and his usual half smile sinks.

“Come ere.” Tugging on his top, he almost collapses into you, muttering an exhausted apology. "What kept you this time then?" You ask, glancing down as you run your fingers through his greying brown tufts.

Joel groans under his breath, shuffling you both so you lay on your side, his hand cradles your back to keep you both on the sofa. "Tommy got the wrong part, had to fix three hours of framin'."

Chuckling under your breath, Joel furrows his brows at your response. "You really blaming your brother? Again?" You nudge him lightly, weening a hint of a grin from the man. "Anyway, Sarah rang whilst you were out."

You can feel Joel's grasp on you tense and explain. "She rang to say how much fun she was having, surprisin, I know. Half expected her to ring telling me she upset the poor girl for her stance on the new Britney album or something." Resting your hand on Joel's your fingers glide along the back of his hand, feeling the rough skin and splinters.

"Sounds like Sarah alright." Joel mumbles, tiredness now coaxing his voice.

With a heavy sigh, you roll yourself off of the sofa with a thud. “Come on,” Lifting your body up, you take a hold of Joel’s hand, tugging it lightly. “we’re going to bed, Miller.”

“Okay,” Joel yawns, sluggish movements following behind you up the stairs and into his room. “’least it’s Saturday tomorrow.” He rubs his eyes, flinching as you switch the bedside lamp on, illuminating your sweet smile.

“You know what that means?” You raise a brow teasingly.

“Oh, I think I got an idea.” He chuckles lowly before rushing to your side, tackling you onto his bed, and trapping you under his frame, listening to your laughter fill the room. “Breakfast in bed, right, sugar?”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, urging him closer you lightly kiss him before answering. “And all the extras, just for you.”

“Now that sounds like heaven to me.” Joel mutters into your lips before kissing you once more and begins to run his fingers along your neck and down your chest whilst the other supports himself above you. “I gotta admit though, Saturday is a long time away.” You hum in agreement, mischievousness lacing your gaze.

“I mean, we might as well treat ourselves a little bit earlier than planned, no harm in that, right?” You shrug playfully.

Tugging on your trousers, Joel smiles to himself. “None whatsoever.” He adds, reaching over to turn the lamp off.

*

Daylight starts to filter through the blinds, daring to peek through the thin cotton curtains and splay across you both.

Joel is the first to wake, as per usual. He squints at the sunlight, shifting slightly only to find himself stuck.

Looking down, his gaze softens. You’re using his arm as a pillow, nestled into his chest lazily with one arm slung across his torso and the other curled into your own chest.

“Mornin’,” Joel whispers into your hair. With his free hand, he brushes your hair from your eyes and tucks it behind your ear.  

Having missed his whisper, Joel leans closer and brushes his lips across the top of your head. “Huh?” You mumble, curling up into the sheets, tugging them over your head. “Oh don’t tell me I hogged the bed again?” Tiredness laces your morning voice, but the sight of your sleepy smile warms Joel’s once cold heart.

“For once you’re good.” Joel tells you. “However, I could do with my arm back before it loses all feeling.” He wiggles it, catching your attention as you avert your gaze to the trapped limb in question.

With a swift movement, you’re kneeling upright and notice the indent you’ve left on his arm. “I better not have drooled on you.” You sigh. “I didn’t drool, did I?” You ask, feeling heat creeping up your neck as Joel simply looks at you. “Joel?”

Waving your hand in front of his face, he remains quiet, just taking this moment in for all it’s worth.

Lifting the dead weight, he can feel the tingles of sensation begin to course through.

“You didn’t drool, darlin.” Resting his functional arm, he cups your cheek which is slightly indented from leaning on his arm all night along with part of the pillow’s pattern.

“Then why you smilin’ like that?” Resting your hands on your hips in a playful fashion, Joel can’t help but feel his exterior soften further.

“If only you could see yourself in the mirror.” He shakes his head, tugging you back into his embrace. “So intimidating.” He feigns fear, watching your eyes roll into the back of your head and laugh dryly in response.

“So funny, Miller. Yet here we are, must’ve won you over somehow.” You remind him, now resting your head on the cool pillow as opposed to his arm.

Shuffling to be at level with you, words fail to form a valid response. He knows it’s true, somehow, you weaned your way into the rock he called a heart. With time, you chiseled away at it without realizing it. Every smile, laugh, and interaction he saw you have with Sarah and Tommy. He didn’t realise the concrete lacing his veins slowly began to crack until he felt it pumping blood back through to his heart, hearing it beat once more.

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He comments, resting his hand on your cheek. What he wished he could say was so much deeper, the thought hovered in his mind, but the words failed to follow.

“Come on then,” You take his palm and kiss it before sitting upright and throwing back the covers. “got breakfast to make, handsome.”

Joel watches as you head out of the room and into the bathroom. He leans back in bed, taking it all in, the simplicity of it all and the joy it brings.

Feeling the full sensation now return to his arm, pins and needles having passed he too sits upright, realizing you’re worth all the pins and needles, as long as he gets to see you smile in the mornings.

[juniper-sunny]

The Art in the Heart* - Chapter 5

You and Silco bond over your shared dreams for the Undercity. He's a man of many words, but he still has to prove himself a man of action...

Happy Ending AU | Silco x Reader | Young!Silco | F!Reader | No [Y/N] | Slow Burn | Romance | Eventual Smut | Fluff | Angst || SFW | WC: 3.6k

beta reader: @silcoitus <3!

ao3 || Masterlist || Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

───────────────── ●◉◎◈◎◉● ─────────────────

You feel drained after you let go of Silco’s hand, as if all the strength leaves your body when the point of contact is broken. When you feel the urge to yawn again, you don’t suppress it. Silco doesn’t notice, already turned away from you to examine the photos again.

“Do you need anything else?” you ask him, belatedly realizing you haven’t offered him anything to drink yet. He shakes his head as you walk over to a cabinet to grab a cup. You shuffle some of the photos around to make room for it before setting it down on the table. “If you need water, there’s a pitcher in the refrigerator.”

“Thank you,” he says mechanically, too lost in thought to give you his full attention.

If this were any other guest, you’d be worried about being a proper host to them, but the late hour and the heist has worn you down. It makes you grateful that Silco has something to occupy himself with. 

The walk over to your wardrobe is difficult, fatigue dragging you down like quicksand. You grab some pajamas at random and toss them onto your bed, not caring if they match.

You reach around your back to unzip your dress. The puller does its best to elude your grasp, as if it can sense your eagerness to go to bed. When you finally grab and try to pull it down, it only unzips a small way before getting stuck, refusing to go any further.

You take a deep breath and hold it, exhaling slowly through your mouth to keep from cursing out loud. “Hey, Silco?”

He doesn’t respond. You turn around to see him sitting on a stool, legs outstretched as he holds up a photo to his face, studying it intently. He strokes his chin in deep thought.

“Silco?” you say again, walking towards him with your arm still behind you, pulling uselessly at the zipper. “Could you help me out, please?”

He finally looks up when you stand next to him. “My apologies. Did you need something?”

“Can you get this zipper for me?” you ask. You tug at it. You feel another notch open before the puller stops again, as if to taunt you.

“Sure.”

 You turn around to present your back to him, lowering your arm to your side. The stool scrapes against the ground as he swivels to face you. His first attempt with the zipper is as fruitless as your own.

Silco tsks in annoyance. “You would think that Topsiders of all people, with all of their wealth and resources, would know how to engineer a fully functional zipper.”

“Yeah,” you say absentmindedly. The dress moves up and down against your skin as Silco yanks repeatedly, using more strength with each try. Gradually, you feel the zipper yield more and more, and then—

ZZZZIP!! Goosebumps ripple from your shoulders all the way down to the small of your back at the sudden exposure to the cool air.

“Woah!” You step forwards in alarm, spinning around to prevent Silco from seeing even more of your body as the dress slips down your shoulders.

“I’m sorry!” Silco throws an arm in front of his eyes, blocking his view. “I swear it was an accident, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, too tired to be embarrassed. “Just keep your eyes closed.”

“I didn’t see anything,” he says apologetically, squashing his face deep into the crook of his elbow. “The zipper was being stubborn and I was trying not to break it—”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say. “Are your eyes closed?”

He nods furiously. You take the opportunity to step out of your dress entirely. When you turn it over in your hands, you see that the fabric is still intact. However, the puller is about to fall off, a small piece of it broken away from your and Silco’s combined efforts. It detaches entirely when you try to pull the zipper up. 

Hopefully you’ll remember to repair it later when you put the dress away. It’s a small price to pay to finally be able to undress after a long night. You hang it up and put the puller in a wardrobe drawer before taking off your underwear, burying them deep in a hamper.

“If there’s anything I can do to earn your forgiveness, just say the word,” he says worriedly, his arm still over his eyes. “I can never be sorry enough—”

“It’s not a big deal, don’t beat yourself up about it.” You grab your pajamas again and head for the bathroom, pulling the door almost fully closed. Through the crack in the door, you call out to him, “Do you need anything before I shower?”

“Would you like me to leave? I understand if—”

“I forgive you, Silco,” you say with a chuckle. “Just don’t touch my dress again.”

“I can assure you, it will never happen again,” he promises earnestly.

When you shut the door, you fight the urge to laugh out loud. His boyish embarrassment is a different side of him that you haven’t seen before. It’s refreshing to see when compared to his usual noble and dignified bearing of a revolutionary, his unyielding conviction so bright that it beams out of him like sunrays.

You let out a relieved sigh when you turn on the shower, setting the temperature to a comforting warmth. The water soothes you as you stand with your eyes closed, the heat warming through your skin into your bones.

Your thoughts drift back to Silco’s earlier request as you begin washing yourself. How serious was he about wanting your help on “future ventures”? Are the Children of Zaun in such dire need of people that they’ll recruit anyone and everyone? 

In another life, you could see yourself joining their ranks, maybe even fighting alongside Silco. After all, you love the Undercity just as much as he does. Despite your lack of battle prowess, you could make yourself useful to them in other ways.

But yours and Silco’s reactions to tonight’s events were so different. He wasn’t afraid of getting caught, even when the councilor almost walked in on him during the burglary. Meanwhile, your own nerves were so fried past the point of anxiety, it’s a wonder you were able to make it through the rest of the night at all. 

And now, even after the mission is over, he’s still up and about, ready for a full debrief while you just want to collapse into bed.

It goes without saying, you prefer your current job anyways. It’s much less hazardous and you don’t have to get into fights with Enforcers. Probably the most dangerous thing you’ve encountered in your line of work was a poorly trained pet Poro; its owners were a wealthy Topside couple who wanted you to paint a portrait of it. It wouldn’t sit still during your painting sessions, expressing its deep distrust of strangers with angry headbutts and hostile growls. You spent more of your time trying to befriend it instead of painting it, and you were handsomely rewarded when you finally completed its portrait. The couple also tipped you generously every time it bit you, which was a nice perk you hadn’t asked for.

You don’t have to risk arrest, bodily injury, or death whenever you sit down with a client. And you certainly don’t feel the same sense of accomplishment after a mission that Silco does.

The rebel life isn’t for you.  

As you shut off the water and begin toweling yourself dry, you speculate if you’re being presumptuous. Silco had only asked for your assistance; he hadn’t asked you to join the Children. There’s no need to overextend yourself.

But it makes you wonder: would Silco still seek out your company if he doesn’t need your help anymore? You’ve been useful to him so far, but there’s no telling if you can still be valuable to him in the future. That thought makes you a little sad, but that’s quickly overturned by confusion. Why should you be sad if Silco doesn’t want to see you again? You’re not even friends. Even before tonight, he was practically a stranger to you.

In fact, you’re not sure why you’re so worked up about Silco and the other Children potentially dying during their next heist. Of course, you hate the idea of anyone—especially your fellow Zaunites—getting hurt, but people die in the Undercity every day. Sometimes it’s not even at the hands of Enforcers, but just plain bad luck.

But then you remember Silco’s easy confidence and his bright smiles. His genuine passion for the Undercity that burns hotter in him than in anyone else you’ve ever met. He doesn’t just hope that Zaun will become free and independent—he knows it, as if it’s an inevitable future that no one else can see but him. It’s easy to picture him leading a charge against Piltover, or in a suit and tie at the Council’s table, ordering the other politicians around with an iron fist.

For your whole life, you’ve wanted the same things as him.

But some instinct tells you that the spark—the one that could bring about real change—is in Silco.

He has his own methods of working towards that dream, and you have yours. But someday, you want to see the same future that he does, with your own eyes.

After finishing up the rest of your bedtime routine, you grab a new toothbrush and exit the bathroom. You find Silco lying on the ground next to your bed, using his backpack as a makeshift pillow. The photos are stacked neatly on the kitchen table and the cup is in the sink.

You crouch down next to him and tap his shoulder with the toothbrush. “Here. Go brush your teeth.”

He looks at the toothbrush, then back up at you. “You’ve already given me too much tonight—”

“It’s fine. Go brush your teeth. You didn’t use mine already, did you?” you ask jokingly.

“I would never,” he says, aghast. “Are you sure?”

You nod. He smiles again and takes the toothbrush from you. “Thank you so much.”

Both of you stand up at the same time. He heads towards the bathroom while you walk over to the washer, pulling Silco’s clothes out to stuff them in the dryer. Then, you head to your closet, pulling out a sleeping bag and a pillow. You set these down on the floor next to the bed just as Silco comes out again.

“You’ve shown me a tremendous amount of generosity tonight,” he says gratefully. “I hope you’ll allow me to repay you in the future.”

“Mmm,” you hum at him, too sleepy for words. You shuffle towards the light switch.

Before you can flick them off, Silco unzips the sleeping bag.

“Get in the bed, Silco,” you say firmly.

“I won’t take your bed from you,” he protests. “The ground is more than good enough for me.”

“Get in the damn bed, Silco. And go to sleep,” you say as firmly as you can, considering that you’re ready to flop onto the floor yourself.

He looks at you in silence for a moment, then climbs into your bed and tucks himself in.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“Don’t mention it,” you grunt.

You turn off the lights. The blankets rustle as he settles in, and you flop onto the sleeping bag, not bothering to slide into it.

Silco calls out your name into the dark. “Good night.”

“Good night, Silco,” you mumble.

All too soon, the beeping of your alarm clock announces the start of a new day, its loud ringing jerking you into wakefulness. You hastily scramble up off the floor and smack it off. 

In yesterday’s craziness, it’s understandable that you forgot to silence it. Luckily, Silco is still slumbering peacefully when you look over at him, the blanket rising and falling slowly with his deep breaths.

You get ready for the day as quietly as possible before making breakfast. Even though you move as carefully and as slowly as possible, every tiny movement seems to reverberate and echo throughout your small apartment. Soon enough, Silco yawns loudly behind you, stretching his long arms when you turn around to greet him.

“Good morning,” you say with a smile, your patience fully restored after a full night’s rest. “Hope you’re hungry.”

He rolls over to face you. He looks so comfortable and vulnerable with tousled hair and heavy-lidded eyes, you feel a little bad for disturbing his sleep. Something about his smile today makes your heart skip a beat, a nervous flare tickling the edges of your nerves. 

“Good morning,” he says drowsily. “Did you make breakfast?”

“Yeah, it’s almost ready.”

“You didn’t have to,” he says, astonished. “I’ve abused your hospitality for far too long already.”

“Well, you’re not going anywhere,” you say, pointing out your window. The skies are still steel-gray and wet, rain drumming harshly on the glass. “Do you want to keep sleeping?”

He shakes his head, sitting up slowly and stretching again. “It would be a poor repayment of your kindness to let the food grow cold. May I use your restroom?”

“Sure,” you say as you grab plates and utensils. “Your clothes should be ready now, they’re in the dryer.”

Silco grabs his clothes before heading to the bathroom. He returns wearing his outfit from last night, dumping the borrowed garments in your washer. He helps you set the table and pour tea. 

You plate a full spread for both your guest and yourself: bacon, eggs, toast, sausage, and fresh fruit. 

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I made a little bit of everything,” you say. “I hope you like it.”

“This looks delicious, thank you,” he says enthusiastically, pulling a stool out for you. He takes a seat and starts on the meat, cutting up the sausage. “Would you mind me asking what you were doing at the councilor’s last night?”

“Salo wanted a status update on the mural,” you say, after swallowing a mouthful of fruit.

“Was that the full extent of his intentions?” Silco asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure,” you shrug. “What else could he want?”

He pushes his eggs around with his fork, as if he might find the right words to say on his plate. 

In a diplomatic tone, he says, “You were dressed quite… well. And you were upstairs.”

“So?”

“His sleeping quarters are upstairs.”

You look up from your meal, skeptical.

“Perhaps you weren’t wrong about Salo wanting a Zaunite mistress,” he wonders aloud.

“No way,” you snort. “As if a gentleman of his caliber would ever deign to consort with the fissure folk.”

“You were invited to dinner at his home, were you not?” he smirks.

“I’m just his employee, that’s all,” you say.

“You’d be surprised at how many men have an appetite for that,” he says. 

 “Salo’s not just any Piltie, he’s one of the ‘elites.’ A Zaunite would never be good enough for him,” you say matter-of-factly, rolling your eyes.

“I must admit I don’t know many from the Undercity who work in such close proximity to the Council,” he says, piercing a piece of sausage with his fork. “You’re the only one I know, actually,” he adds thoughtfully.

“We’re all just… dirty little animals, in their eyes,” you say bitterly. “And they’ll throw us a bone every now and then if we’re ‘one of the good ones’ that ‘earned’ it.”

You spoon more food into your mouth to cut yourself off from rambling. It doesn’t seem fair to complain about your clientele; they pay and treat you well enough, and there are plenty of other poor and unemployed Zaunites who would kill to have a job like yours.

But surprisingly, Silco nods his head in agreement. “It’s about esteem and opportunity. Everything they’ve denied us.”

He puts his fork down and stares out your window. His profile is handsome, and his proud manner is accentuated when he lifts his chin high, as if to address an imaginary crowd.

“We’ll earn their respect once we show them we have the power,” he says quietly. ”A united underground will be an entity they cannot ignore, a force they must reckon with… the Nation of Zaun.” 

“Wow… ‘the Nation of Zaun’…” you say in awe. “I like the sound of that.”

It’s a commonly held sentiment in the Undercity, but you’ve never heard that phrase before. You almost regret expressing your admiration, though, when Silco turns to you, no doubt ready to spring into another monologue about Zaun.

“I’ve spoken enough about the Undercity, haven’t I,” he says, frowning. “I hope I haven’t been a tedious houseguest.”

“No, you’re fine. It’s been a while since I’ve met anyone in your line of work,” you reassure him, surprised by his thoughtfulness. “It’s good to know that there are still people out there fighting the good fight.”

“We’ll fight for as long as it takes,” he says grimly. His jaw shifts as he bites his tongue, as if he’s physically forcing himself to change the subject. “Will you be painting the mural today?”

“Probably not; it’s going to rain again tomorrow,” you say. You smile at him, glad for the change in topic. There’s only so many ways you can tell Silco you agree with him without repeating yourself verbatim.

He proves himself to be a good conversationalist, asking you about yourself and showing genuine interest in your answers. Considering the rocky start to your relationship, you have a decent amount in common with Silco: you were both born and raised in the Fissures, survivors of lean and tumultuous childhoods that every Sumpsnipe endures. Your initial guess at his age was right; he’s only a few months older than you.

The similarities end there. He only has vague memories of living with his parents before they left him in an orphanage among the Sumps; he was told it was an act of compassion, as they had passed away shortly afterwards, succumbing to the Zaun gray like so many others. On the other hand, you’ve never known any family besides the staff at the orphanage you lived in. Your own career as a painter pulled you up and out of Zaun, while Silco worked as a miner for many years. He and his companions managed to carve out the Lanes, founding the Children of Zaun when they rallied enough like-minded people to pose a significant fighting force.

Slowly, slowly, the rain passes during your meal. Just as you’re both finishing up, the sun peeks through silvery clouds. Silco insists on helping you with the dishes but you shoo him away. He relegates himself to double-checking that all the photos you took are in his backpack.

“Wait up,” you call out to him as he puts on his boots. You walk over to your supplies and pull out the tube of blueprints for the scissor lift. It feels like a lifetime ago that he asked to borrow them in that alleyway, even if it’s only been a few weeks. “Do you still need these?”   

He looks surprised, then nods. “You are truly a fountain of generosity.”

When he kneels and opens his backpack again, you hesitate.

“You… you better give these back when you’re done with them,” you say slowly. You hold the blueprints close to your chest, reluctant to hand them over. Some illogical voice in your head tells you that he won’t go to the heist if he doesn’t have the schematics, and that withholding them will somehow guarantee his safety.  

“I will,” he says with conviction. His eyes are bright and full of promise. “I hope it’s alright to hold onto them for a while. We have much work to do first.” He extends a hand out to you.

“You’ll come find me after the raid, right?” you ask. You try to swallow your fear, clenching a fist tight around the tube to keep from trembling.

“Of course,” he says gently. “But I would be remiss not to warn you. If the worst should come to pass—”

“But it won’t, right?” you cut him off. “You promised.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Silco smiles softly at you, eyes crinkling with warmth.

You stare at him. He has that certainty on his face, his unwavering belief that can’t be shaken despite your own fears. 

Just as much as he believes in the Undercity, he believes in himself, too.

Finally, you step forward, placing the container in his hand. His smile widens as he takes it, placing it carefully in his backpack.

You open the door for him as he slings his backpack over his shoulders. When he stands up again, you step back to give him room to leave. 

But he walks up to you first, placing a hand on your shoulder. You freeze as you look up at him, your skin flushing underneath his touch.

“I am in your debt,” he says solemnly, clear turquoise eyes gazing into you. “I will do all that I can to repay it.”

“It’s fine, Silco,” you say in a low voice. “Good luck.”

“Thank you.”

He walks backwards away from you, waving goodbye energetically. You wave back at him, lowering your hand only when he turns the corner and disappears. 

You stand in the doorway, turning to look in the direction of Piltover. You can’t see the city from here, but you squint past the many buildings and the bridge towards the Councilor’s tower. 

Maybe granting independence to the Undercity is too much to ask of Topside, but if Silco comes back to you safe and unharmed, that’ll be good enough for now. 

The rest can come another day. 

───────────────── ●◉◎◈◎◉● ─────────────────

If you liked this fic, please reblog and/or leave a comment! <3

[synthetickitsune]

heyy so im the anon who requested the fluff prompt 20 and is it okay if you can write it for lee soo hyuk, i apologize for not putting the name it totally slipped my mind (i don't even know how-) thank you<3

it's alright, that happens!! i hope this is fine ♡

Lee Soohyuk | Touch starved fluff | 0.9k | gn!reader

He passes by you as you take out the groceries. You’re used to his hands lingering on your waist for a second as he does, but not to him leaning his body over yours just to kiss your cheek. And his hands still linger for that extra second even after he pulls away.

You’re used to Soohyuk keeping you company as you prepare dinner, but not to him hugging you from behind as he tells you about his latest work trip. He stands to the side as you, in turn, tell him about how you’ve been since you last saw each other, just so he could watch you and your wild gestures as you explain a messy incident that you’ve witnessed at the shop.

And you’re also used to him helping you set the table - but not to him getting in the way. He’s reaching for the same utensils as you, he’s standing right behind you and handing you the plates although they’re easily accessible to you. His hand bumps into yours when you want to move the fruit bowl out of the way. 

Only when you glare at him, half-irritated at this point, does he move out of the way. You thought he was hungry or tired too, now you’re getting suspicious about the sudden change in his behavior. Still, you’re hungry and so you’re happy he leaves you alone to work efficiently. At least for a minute or two, until you’re getting the glasses and there he is - his body warm against yours, as his hand grabs yours and your fingers intertwine on instinct. He presses a kiss to your neck, leaning against you. You’d accuse him of being mischievous if only he wasn’t shyly hiding his face in the crook of your neck. 

“I missed you,” he breathes against your skin, his other arm now around your waist, squeezing you to him. You sigh and relax into his embrace. Now it’s all beginning to make sense. Even if you’d be more open to his affection after the dinner. But you understand the situation has to be dire if he’s clingy like this.

“I missed you too,” you smile, “It’s good to have you back.”

“I’m never leaving for so long again,” he murmurs, almost too quiet to hear. You chuckle, squeezing his hand so he knows you’re not laughing at him. It’s an impossible wish, but you won’t spoil the moment. “I missed you.”

"I'm here now" you reassure, "And you're not going anywhere any time soon." He nods behind you, his lips kissing your shoulder. Still he doesn't let go of you. “Did something happen?"

He shakes his head with a sigh. “Just missed you"

There's no reason to tell you how most of his interactions for work seemed different at best and embarrassingly fake at worst compared to your warmth. His friends and colleagues might be happy to see him, they'll exchange pleasantries and half-hearted hugs as a greeting but after a month of missing you, all he could think about were your arms around him. The comfort your hugs filled him with.

It was different - naturally. Of course it was different, you are his partner, after all. But he'd never believe just how much of a difference it would be. He missed his friends occasionally, all similarly busy as him. Yet never has it been as sharp a pain as when he's separated from you. It was a constant pressure on his chest and longing at his fingertips. No amount of calls, facetimes or photos exchanged was enough to soothe the ache.

You turn your head to kiss the side of his head. He hugs you tighter, swaying with you a little. It hits you again how nice it is to have him back, warm and solid against you. He hums when you lean closer to him and squeeze his hand. This is what love should feel like, you’re sure of it. It’s so peaceful and it makes you forget everything else.

Except for your stomach that rumbles loudly.

He chuckles, stealing a quick kiss before he steps away rather reluctantly. His smile is shy when he apologizes. 

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, quickly getting the almost-forgotten glasses and setting them on the table, “I missed you too.” 

“You’re starving because of me,” he mumbles and when you look at him, there's a small pout on his lips. You keep looking at him, watching him squirm until you give into his unspoken request and kiss him again. He pulls you close for just a second before he pulls away. “Let’s eat now, hm?”

Honestly it seems he’s more embarrassed than hungry, but you’re really looking forward to finally filling your stomach. And besides, nothing beats sleepy cuddles right after a meal. You serve dinner and finally sit down, but it only takes a minute before he’s gently pulling on your chair. He avoids your eyes, and it’s honestly touching how much he wants you close, so you move your plate and scoot your chair closer to him, bumping your knee against his.

The rest of the evening goes by in a similar way, with Soohyuk always lingering closeby, pulling you close to him any chance he gets. And after all the missing him you’ve done, you can only be grateful.

[basketballanonsblog]

Warmth

Happy birthday, darling 💚

It's mainly fluff but with a teeny tiny smidge of angst and kisses

Synopsis: Your home will always be in her arms

Jeongyeon moped in bed, trying not to cry out of disappointment. You were supposed to come to Korea tomorrow after 5 months apart, but the realities of life had other plans.

Jeongyeon was getting ready for bed when your photo lit up her phone screen. Her tiredness trickled away, now replaced with joy, as she answered.

"Hey baby, how's your day going? I can't wait to see you in two days. The bed feels empty without you in it."

You instinctively smiled at the sound of her voice but said nothing.

She watched as your expression became crestfallen, causing concern.

"Baby?"

"Jeongyeon." You sighed out. "I'm so sorry, jagiya, but we'll have to wait a little longer. Complications at work have come up, so I can't go to Korea yet."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine." Not really.

Of course you knew it wasn't fine.

"Honey - "

"Y/n, I'm quite tired. I'll call you back tomorrow."

Her tone left no room for argument.

"Alright. Sleep well, I love you."

You barely finished your sentence before she cut the call.

-x-

She wasn't angry at you. She had calmed down by the morning, and now she felt guilt and regret.

It wasn't your fault, but her anger was misplaced. She hated that she didn't say I love you back.

It had been nearly 24 hours of radio silence on your end. No matter how tired either of you were or the eight hour time difference, you always made time to send messages.

Jeongyeon sent a number of apologies, but still nothing.

I messed up.

She stared at the photo on her bedside table. It was your last beach trip, and Chaeyoung managed to capture the moment you made your girlfriend laugh with one of your jokes.

Jeongyeon buried her face into the pillow and tried not to cry.

She was the only one at the apartment. The members went out after sleeping over, but Jeongyeon wasn't in the mood to do anything.

"We'll be back soon, unnie!"

There was a knock on the main door, and she almost didn't respond until a few more knocks were heard.

She assumed it was one of them coming back to retrieve something, but when she opened it, she froze.

There you stood, with a warm smile on your face.

"Hello, my love." You greeted, but she just stared at you.

"Jeongyeon?" God...how she's missed hearing the sound of your voice in person.

She couldn't hold back her tears this time as she leapt into your welcoming arms.

You said nothing else, just letting the comfortable silence surround you, whilst you held her close.

-x-

After an emotional reunion, you showered before joining Jeongyeon in her bedroom for some much needed cuddles.

She laid her head in the crook of your neck, her hand entwined with yours. Jeongyeon took comfort in the feel of your heartbeat. The steady beat soothing her.

Her eyes fluttered to a close when you wrapped your arms around her, basking in your warmth.

"I felt so bad the other day. I wanted to surprise you, but I almost gave in when I saw how unhappy you were. I was afraid that you were angry at me, especially when you hung up like that. I only became less anxious when I saw your messages."

She wriggled out of your embrace, moving to hover above you.

"I wasn't angry at you, never at you."

She leant down to shower your face with kisses, each one followed by a whispered apology.

When she finally reached your lips, you held her closer. What started as a languid kiss swiftly grew desperate.

Without breaking apart, you shifted positions, so you were sitting upright, with Jeongyeon straddling you.

Your hands sneaked under her shirt, touching her bare skin, making her flinch.

"Your hands are cold." She pouted jokingly.

"Sorry, babe." You went to pull them away, but she didn't let you.

"They're cold, but I never said you could let go." She leaned closer to whisper into your ear. "It drives me crazy when you can't keep your hands to yourself. It makes me feel irresistible."

"That's because you are."

You felt her move her lips to your pulse point, and now you were the one who was shivering. Especially since you knew she was leaving a mark.

Before you could pull her shirt off, there was another interruption, which made you both freeze.

"Was that your stomach?"

Blood immediately rushed to your cheeks. Plane food wasn't the most filling.

"Maybe."

"Aww my poor baby. Come on, I'll make something."

Stupid body. Ruining the mood like that.

-x-

After having what you proclaimed were the best noodles ever (ironic coming from a professional chef), you settled on the couch to watch a movie.

"I'm just saying it was only a pack of shin ramyun."

"My love, sometimes there is joy in the simplest of things. You made it with love and care, which is why it's the best." You spoke as if it was fact.

Goodness. You knew how to make a girl feel special and adored.

-x-

"This is nice." The movie had long finished, but the both of you were too comfortable to move. You hummed in agreement.

"I could stay like this forever."

Then why don't you? Jeongyeon thought immediately. That question seemed to elicit a light bulb moment.

How could she manage to let you go back in a few days? Dropping you off at the airport was always the worst part of your visits.

After nearly three years, she was getting sick of saying goodbye.

She gazed at you while settling a hand on your nape, running your hair through her fingers.

"Move in with me."

"Okay."

Wait. Did she hear that right?

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I swear y/n if you're just messing with me -" You cut her off with a kiss, hoping that it showed her you were serious.

"I mean it. I guess I've just had enough of saying goodbye to you." You looked at her with such tenderness. She began to tear up.

"But that means you'd have to leave home, if you move here." You shook your head with fervour.

"My home is wherever you are."

She tucked herself back into your side, and you could feel her tears finally escaping.

"You're such a sap." She faked exasperation but pressed her lips against your jaw. "But I love it."

She captured your lips this time, signifying the promise of a future together.