#feel free to ignore this i will tag it as something else later when i figure it out

[mysticalcats]

ok fellas this post is really different from my other stuff so i'm putting it under the cut for people who don't care and also because i'm slightly embarrassed

ok so. is it unusual for a girl to want to have a deep voice and a flat chest and a more square face and also feel slightly jealous of men and want to sound like them and look like them

and also is it unusual to want to be all that, but also simultaneously not be very bothered very much by how you look right now or by being referred to with she/her except for sometimes when you think about it too much. because i usually don't think about it except for sometimes where i suddenly just get really sad about being a girl or i'll always have this faint feeling that i am just unhappy about it

and also is it unusual to try to ignore it and go about your life being unbothered by it even though deep down it does kinda bother you but you can't really. like. say anything to anyone because your family won't react well and neither will your friends because they'll think it's weird and uncomfortable. i feel afraid to ever feel this way because i know the people in my life won't react well to it

so like. genuine question please lmk wtf is goin on because i'm unsure if it's normal and i've felt like this for a long time and it's confusing me and i don't even know what i'm going to do with the information once i know i'm just sort of lost LMAO

[tasty-littl-snack]

same anon as before; thank you for your thoughtful answer and analysis, i hope you don't mind if i give some additional thoughts

for background, i was one of the fans that was soured by the announcement of the streamer. i didn't go and spam hate, though, it just felt like a kind of blow which slowed down my support from them. it never wavered though, and i still watch their things on youtube from time to time (i can't afford a subsription or any subscription, for that matter, i only have a spotify student discount). i guess what upset me so much is knowing how many people were in the same situation as me.

obviously the discourse was blown out of proportion (if you can even call it discourse, at times it was pure venom) and things changed for the worse (in my personal opinion). they were enclosed in a decision which was supposed to be freeing from them and backtracking to youtube meant increased dependency on performance-analysis when making content-based decisions (as their overall audience on youtube became smaller and people left, so did other fans like you and me, who prefer non-spooky shows - ultimately leaving the large percentage of horror fans to "dictate" the performance of their content). I think this aligns with what you said in your reply; that GF, MF and AYS are the best performing; but they are also the most "conventional" shows that Watcher makes, appealing to the widest audience. It doesn't leave a big space for fans who prefer niche topics (i'm sorry, but i don't see ghosthunting or telling ghost stories as niche at all, even when they do it in their special ways :/)

i agree with what you said about making different channels for different types of content. i will admit that i am one of those rare (?) fans who doesn't care for horror OR food content. i recognize that this isn't their fault, because it's my personal preference, but again we come back to the fact that OTHER shows will get pushed back, which again, upsets me. this is obviously largely on me, though.

i kind of disagree with your point about the podcast. i certainly feel as if watcherpod started as something different than being about the goings-on and current things in watcher ent. just look at their earlier episodes, something like from ep. 1 to ep. 15 (?), when they all had to come up with a one-word topic and chat shit the whole podcast about random stuff. i loved those episodes as they provided us with a different view of all three of them and gave us some great anecdotes and running jokes. the podcast has become worse, in my opinion, because now it feels like an (unnecessary?) extention of content they already have put out (the ghost files debrief s3 episodes were an hour long? and more? basically a podcast ep). sure they provide some good insight, but how much more can they talk about ghosts? i have also noticed the influx of new fans who send them questions on the pod, which is great, but i find myself listening to stories and answers which i, and many other long time fans, have heard thousands of times over, and are well-known in the fandom space. i'll admit here too that this one is more of a personal grievance and relates back to the fact that i dislike horror content.

sorry for the word vomit but i am looking forward to your reply :)

Thank you for your thoughts. I didn't consider that there are actually fans who came back after having been soured by them, I admit in the last half year I became more of in a bubble of being on the streamer since it is something I am fortunate enough to afford. But as you mentioned many fans couldn't, and thus watcher needed to focus on youtube again and make adjustements.

I find it interesting that you said that both of us left in a way, and that might skew the amount of views they get on non-spooky content. I didn't think of it that way, but indeed putting things on the streamer diminishes the youtube views, this is even true for the podcast which went up yesterday. And I did the thing they expect me to and didn't give a view to the youtube version because I could already watch it earlier. I think the same is for the shows. Fans of spooky content will always come back for it, while fans who might have watched and enjoyed www didn't because they still had feelings about not wanting to support them. (I'm not saying it's you but I've seen some opinions that skew that way).

This is also an insteresting year because Puppet History didn't premiere so we don't know how that would have preformed. Maybe if they did premiere it, some fans would come back earlier and they'd see that they don't need to change into spooky content in everything they do. But we'll never know at this point. I hope the new season preforms well enough that they'll keep it on the main channel, because while not performing as well as ghost files I feel like it has many dedicated fans and is one of the staple watcher shows, wether they planned for that or not.

Yes ghost hunting content might not seem like a niche one but I meant it in comparison to other youtube channels, or if you were to explain watcher to a new person who hadn't heard of ghost hunting before. If youtubers read stories then they just pull them from reddit and not think about it, ays is more of a unique way to do it than just people reading a story and laughing about it.

That's the tricky thing about having a production company as a business but doing personality driven content. It all hinges on people wanting to watch and trust that the shows will be good and the content will not change. Therefore implementing changes is always a risk.

It seems that the main criticisms that they took to heart was that they don't listen to their fans. This is why they made a way for them to contact them, and I didn't get the impression that they answer the same questions all the time - only when people call in live, which happened twice or maybe three times at this point. This puts them on the spot and they have to answer a question that would be usually filtered out by Matt, the producer of the podcast.

When you mentioned that the first fifteen eps seemed different I went back and saw that they didn't have Matt Real in them yet (In a speaking role or otherwise as a producer, the camera angles and lights are different). Therefore the shows are less structured than in the later eps, and they go on a tangent a lot in a way they don't later because mr Real heards them like a pack of sheep to topics and segments that he comes up with. It might be a personal preference wether that's good or bad, personally I love him and I like the vibe that they all get along. But that might lead to the impression that these are friends hanging out and they have topics between themselves that a listener is not a part of. You can always tell them that, if you plan on listening later. I know that when they started taking in the viewer questions many people said that they prefer the off the cuff topics they come up with and they seem to have one or two questions per ep now. (They take last 15 minutes of a one hour podcast and they sometimes also go on tangents from them.)

That change happened in June I think and that's when they let go of their patreon and another show that was basically answering questions my absolute beloved wife, watcher weekly +. (rip sweet prince I miss you every day). Of course these shows were shorter (up to 30 mins every week), but they did go into the behind the scenes content of watcher in a way it is now continued in pod watcher and I really appreciate. But yeah if you started to listen to the podcast for them I get how it might be dissatisfying. (WW+ also went under major overhaul somewhere in the middle of 2023 and became more of a structured show, for the ease of them batch shooting the episodes, and I think that's one of the things - if they shoot say two podcast eps per day, then they can't really have current topics, or talk about what happened last week because it's still the same day and they are people at the end of the day. It is more convenient for them to shoot the eps this way and ultimately they have to produce content in a sustainable way for them.).

About the debriefs, well I think that since they plan on probably keeping the alternating week schedule, they need to justify the content by length. It also probably has to do with youtube algorythm because as I said earlier - uploading content similar in nature around one hour, or 40 minutes is good for it, even if it might make less sense for the structure of the episode (and in the last one they answered the same question twice, and that also has to do with catering to the youtube audience. One part of questions is from the streamer people, the other is from youtube viewers, which sometimes makes for interesting corrections they wouldn't have made, but sometimes they answer questions they already did weeks ago. My personal theory is that they didn't plan on having them that long but then realized that not answering questions from youtube might once again bring the haters in and people saying that they don't care about their audience. So debriefs are a way to compromise and satisfy both audiences. (This is pure speculation on my part though).

So yeah in the end they need to carter to many people and they're at least trying to give the people what they want. I'm very interested to see how they will respond to the comments that people gave them. It's great that most of them are positive and people aren't afraid to tell them what they think. I hope it can only get better from here :D

[honeekyuu]

stuck. [tsukishima kei x f!reader]

>>Tsukishima is the kind of best friend that makes you want to leave him, but you just can't bring yourself to.

or

You end up confessing in the middle of a fight and he fucks you to show you how much he really cares.<<

______________________________

tags: smut, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, alcohol/drinking, college au, tsukishima kei is a dick, drunk sex, unprotected sex (dont do that), creampie, dom/sub undertones

a/n: ahahahaha this was my first hq work posted on ao3, and it is everything Mean Best Friend Tsukishima Kei that i needed. i hope you enjoy!

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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

“Okay, I’m done! How do I look?”

“You look like shit.”

You sigh, trying not to let him get to you. 

Tsukki’s always been this way - dismissive, nonchalant, indifferent. Through middle school, he’d been sarcastic. He’d been snarky and brutally honest. And in high school, he’d only gotten worse. 

Anyone else in your position might have left him already. People you’d known in school had told you to find someone else, a better friend. Best friends don’t treat each other the way Tsukishima treats you , they’d said. His teammates had been in the habit of scolding him whenever he’d go too far, whenever he’d push your buttons a little too hard. The only one who could see your side had been Yamaguchi, and even he’d had his reservations at times.

But other people don’t know Tsukishima Kei. They know the Tsukki that would refuse to share his notes with you after you’d been out sick. The Tsukki that would steal parts of your lunch and hold it high above your head, far out of your reach, and call you mean names with a cruel smirk. The Tsukki that would often leave you behind after school and head home without you, leaving you to text him and wonder where he’d gone.

They don’t know that the same person would show up at your house with his notes, walking you through calculus and poetry lessons himself because he knows you learn better with a teacher. And, even though you never called him out for it, he would show up the day you’d been out sick, too, just to check on you. Just to watch movies in bed with you, waving off your concerns about him getting sick. He hated being sick, but he would ignore your complaints and force you to relax - because you’d only ever get sick when you overworked yourself, which meant he hadn’t been watching over you closely enough. 

They don’t know that Tsukki would secretly swap your lunch out for his own - better, homemade food that wasn’t the cafeteria slop you were often forced to buy because your parents weren’t home a lot. He would watch you push the food around on your tray while you’d laugh at something Hinata had said, identifying at least 3 things you were allergic to on that plate. So he would reach for it, leaving his own (allergen-free, thanks to Akiteru) lunch open for retaliation while he’d use his height as a way to take out his frustrations on you - his irritation that you never seemed to put yourself first, choosing starvation over just simply asking your parents for money before they go out of town.

And the times he’d leave you behind - well, half the time, it had been an accident. It was impossible to remember your packed schedule, all your clubs and student council meetings lumping into a vague ‘ Y/n’s busy ’ block of time in his mind. The other half of the time, it was because he needed to be alone. It’s not that he’s an asshole and loves to make you suffer - in fact, he would often call you later the same night, apologizing in his own, special Tsukishima Kei way and explaining himself. He gets overwhelmed easily, overstimulated by too many people, too many responsibilities, too many social expectations. So he would disappear as soon as he was allowed, needing to be alone with himself and no one else.

So, the people in your life had known a different version of Tsukishima than you do. Where they’d seen a bully, cold and unrelenting even for his best friend, you’d known nothing more than an introvert, expressing his care in a way that was unrecognizable to anyone but you.

Care that had carried over into college, the last three years filled with a Tsukishima Kei that even you hadn’t expected. A version of him that walks you from the library to your dorm at night, despite his increasingly hectic volleyball schedule. A Tsukishima who calls you in the morning on his walk to class to make sure you haven’t overslept, because - even if the calls consist of nothing but your crabby morning disposition, berating him for pulling you from your slumber - he knows you’ll thank him later, as you often do.

A Tsukishima who lets you drag him to parties, even though he hates them to his very core. He lets you tug him along to your dorm, lets you force him to sit through the hour-long ordeal of choosing your outfit. Lets you spin in front of him when you’re done, clearly pleased with yourself, and ask him how you look.

Lets you throw a pillow at his face when he tells you that you look like shit, even if he wholeheartedly believes otherwise.

“Tsukki, can’t you say one nice thing to me? For once?”

He scoffs when you put your hands on your hips, turning his gaze back to his phone as he lounges on your bed like it’s his own. It might as well be, with the amount of time he spends in this room.

“That would require you to have something worth being nice about, wouldn’t it?” He smiles mockingly when he catches the irritated twitch of your eyebrow.

“You’re a dick.”

“Nothing new about that.” Tsukishima watches as you turn back to your closet with a huff, taking the time to look you over appreciatively. No , he thinks, his eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts and the way your dress hugs your hips, the material tight but soft. His hand itches with the urge to touch it, to find out for himself. It’s not that you have nothing. It’s that you have too much.

He sighs, sitting up, and runs his fingers through his hair.

You have too much, and it’s fucking annoying. 

His eyes flick to you again, his own irritation growing. You’d always been too good. Too perfect, too overwhelming. He’d hated falling in love. It had sucked. High school had sucked . Having you cling to him every day and finding himself clinging right back. Not understanding these complicated feelings he has - ones that want nothing more than to hold you in his arms, against others that would tell him to push you away with his sharp tongue, to protect himself from this terrifying feeling. 

And now that he’s accepted it - it had only taken him the entirety of high school and at least a year of college - he almost hates it more. Being so close to you and somehow still feeling like he can’t breathe because it’s not nearly close enough.

So he stands, shoving his phone in the pocket of his jeans, and stares you down when you finally turn back to him.

“Can we go? The sooner we get to this stupid thing, the sooner I can go home.” He thinks he sees a flicker of hurt flash across your eyes, but that can’t be it. He’s said worse things before. You always bounce back, a retort on the tip of your tongue for everything he could throw at you. You always match him, blow for blow.

So why, then, can he see your jaw clenching as you turn away from him? Why does he feel like you’re pulling your jacket off the rack with more force than usual? Why are you leaving without responding?

What the fuck ?

-

Fuck Tsukishima Kei . 

It’s the only thought in your mind as you down the shot, wincing as the alcohol slides down your throat. You’d lost count of the drinks you’ve had about an hour ago, when the thought had been something more like ‘ Fuck Tsukishima Kei. Stupid fucking idiot. Never thinks before he speaks ’.

Clearly, you’d mellowed out a little, but the anger is still there, simmering in your chest and threatening to rise every time he gets close to you.

The walk to the frat had been silent, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about your mood, only scrolling through his phone and occasionally glancing over at you. You’d felt the irritation crawling under your skin with every pass of his eyes over you, but you hadn’t returned any of his gazes, only looking forward to getting to the party and being with other people.

But he hadn’t let you wander off so easily, his tall form following close behind as you’d tried to find some of your friends from class. You can tell he’s been trying to silently check on you, like he always does when he knows he’s bothered you. 

He’d brought you drinks, only smiling emptily when you’d glared up at him. It shouldn’t have made your heart skip that he’d done nothing more than offered you a drink, tapping his own red solo cup against yours and matching you shot for shot. It shouldn’t affect you when he does the bare minimum. 

He’d danced close to you, one hand on your waist and his warm chest pressed firmly against your back. You’d hated it - feeling so safe in the arms of someone who had derived pleasure from picking on you your whole lives. And even if that’s not true - even if you only take into account all the ways that he’d taken care of you, celebrating all your accomplishments with you and holding you while you’d cried about your failures - you still shouldn’t be feeling that familiar tug of nerves in your stomach when he presses his hips against your ass, slipping his fingers through yours and pulling you close.

And when that hadn’t worked - when you’d held your ground and managed to cling to your anger from earlier - he’d even tried to talk to you about it. That isn’t normal for him by any means, but you could see the confusion in his eyes when he’d leaned down to be heard over the music, mumbling his question against the shell of your ear.

“Are we okay ?”

It had taken everything in you to resist him, to resist the pull that is Tsukishima Kei. The same pull that had kept you next to him all these years, through all the teasing and the poking. The pull that kept reminding you that he’s just bad at expressing his feelings. He’s just bad at being nice. He’s just bad at holding his tongue.

But that doesn’t mean you have to sit and take it every time.

So you’d only smacked his hand away and glared when he’d cupped the side of your face, trying to get you to look at him. Stomping over to the bar, you had asked the frat boy for a shot of something random. 

After downing it, you try not to look back but fail miserably - you might be pissed, but you’ve never been immune to him. You probably never would be.

Glancing back, you can see his blond head in the sea of people. He’s trying to make his way to the bar, but his head is whipping to the side at the sound of something. A tall guy - you recognize it’s someone from his team - appears at his side, clapping his shoulder, and you can only assume he’d heard his name being called.

They start talking, Tsukki seeming distracted but drunk enough to at least pretend he’s interested in the conversation. You look away just as he’s turning his head back to you - you won’t be caught looking his way again tonight.

Luckily, there’s someone stepping up beside you, catching your attention with their bright smile.

“Y/n?!” 

You blink, startled by the recognition. But when you finally see who it is, you can’t help but beam.

“Oh my God, Bokuto?!” You leap toward him, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and dragging him into a hug. You feel him laugh against you, his arms sliding around your waist and pulling you in tight. When you step away, he keeps you close, hand on your hips.

“What are you doing here?! You don’t go here, do you?” 

The man shakes his head, grinning down at you and pointing over his shoulder.

“Nah, I’m just visiting a few friends over the weekend.”

You glance past him, seeing a group of boys that seem like they could be familiar to you, but you can never tell - Bokuto Koutarou is friends with everyone.

When you look back, you catch his eyes wandering down the length of your body, his gaze snapping up to yours when you clear your throat. He has the decency to look ashamed.

“Sorry, Y/n - You’ve just, uh… grown up a lot since high school.”

You flush deeply, something that makes him grin when he catches it. 

At least someone thinks I look good tonight .

You’re smiling flirtily up at him, feeling confident enough to drag this conversation out. He seems to notice, an interested glimmer in his eye. But then he’s glancing over your shoulder, and his eyebrows are raising in surprise.

A hand wraps around your bicep, much tighter than necessary in your opinion. You barely have time to spot the blond hair in your peripheral vision before you’re being dragged away. You can only wave at Bokuto, who looks a little disappointed but mostly just amused.

Tsukishima only lets you go when you’re outside, his hand dropping from your skin like you’ve burned him. You whip around to face him, more than ready to yell at him on the front lawn of this frat house. But he’s already walking away, in the direction of your dorm.

“Dude, what the hell? You didn’t even say hi to him - he’s one of your closest friends!” You stalk after him, determined to figure out what could possibly be going through his mind. But he won’t answer you, just shaking his head and mumbling something that sounds vaguely like ‘exactly ’ as he makes his way down the street.

You scoff, turning back to the frat. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re just going to follow him home quietly.

You start to head back to the party, but you barely make it five steps before his fingers are closing around your wrist and tugging you back to him. When you look up, enraged at his entitlement, you see that he’s incensed, staring down at you with wild eyes. He looks pissed, which he has no reason to be. But there’s something else there, something that’s contributing to this almost panicked anger sitting just below the surface.

“Tsukishima, what do you want?” 

He bristles at the use of his full name, golden eyes narrowing as he stares down at you.

“You’re going home.” He punctures every word with barely concealed irritation, finally turning and dragging you back down the street. You don’t say anything this time, feeling that previously mellowed out anger returning full force as you stare at the back of his head.

The walk back is just as silent as the walk to the party had been, but this time you feel ready to explode. You’d been annoyed before, bothered and hurt by his words and the way he treats you.

Now you’re just ready to pick a fight. Which means you’ll probably say something you’ll regret if you don’t get away from him soon and take some time to calm the hell down.

When you get to your door, you’ve already got your keys out. He’d let go of you in the elevator, finally realizing that he’d been gripping you way too hard. You might just be able to get inside without him following.

But the second you unlock the door and slip inside, not a word said to the blond as you try to shut the door behind you, his hand is slamming down on the wood. He stops your attempt, staring down at you with annoyance.

“You’re joking, right?” And then he’s pushing into your room with an angry sigh, letting the door swing shut behind him. You only step back, crossing your arms over your chest as you look him over.

“What do you want?”

“What do I wa- What is your problem tonight ?” He squints down at you, eyebrows furrowed. When you only raise yours, his jaw is clenching. “Why the fuck are you so mad at me?”

“Because-” You stop yourself, taking a deep breath in order to maintain some semblance of control. “Because you’re an asshole, Tsukishima-”

“Stop fucking calling me that, Y/n-”

“-and maybe I’m just not in the mood for your shit tonight!” You yell over him, clenching your fists against your body. You need him to go. You cannot let him see you cry.

“I’m always an asshole! How is tonight any different-” He’s taken a step further into the small bedroom, and you take a step back, feeling overwhelmed. You’re immensely glad you don’t have a roommate, so they don’t have to deal with the mess that is your friendship with Tsukki.

“Tonight isn’t any different, you dick. It’s the same as it always is. I’m just tired of it tonight.” You feel yourself growing angrier when he just laughs, throwing you a mocking smile as he paces the room. He’s definitely drunk.

“Oh, excuse me, I didn’t realize I needed to account for Little Miss Y/n’s fucking mood swings whenever I open my mouth-”

“What the fuck did you just sa-”

“I just didn’t take you for someone who’s sensitive-”

“Well, maybe I am, you fucking asshole! ”

You’re definitely drunk, too.

Tsukishima stops short, taking you in. He can’t hide the shock on his face when he sees you - the way your hands are shaking at your sides, the quiver of your lip as you try your best to stand up to him. You’re trying so hard not to cry, he can tell.

Wow, I really am an asshole.

“Y/n… I-”

“Did you really think I would still want to go to that party once you’d made it clear how much you didn’t want to go? That you think it’s stupid to hang out with your best friend on a Friday night doing something she wants to do - because your idea of a good time is so different from mine that you would try make me feel like a fucking idiot for it?” 

Tsukishima’s starting to panic - had he made you feel that way? He’d just been talking. He hadn’t even been thinking about how it would make you feel - he’d thought nothing could hurt you, that your friendship is guaranteed and that having you next to him is a given. 

Now he feels like he’s losing you. 

“Maybe, once in a fucking while , it wouldn’t hurt you too much to tell a girl she’s pretty when she’s just spent an hour trying to look good for you.”

The frustration on Tsukishima’s face drops, and he’s left staring emptily at you. 

That’s what this is about? 

He stares for a while, his eyes just flicking back and forth between yours as he thinks of how to take that. It makes you nervous. You’d said too much. 

“Fuck this.”

You blink, staring up at him in disbelief. What is that supposed to mean?

“What do you- mmh -” 

Tsukishima had crossed the room in just two steps, taking your face in his hands while you’d been preparing to yell at him again. And then he’d smashed his lips to yours.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you let out a noise of shock, muffled against his mouth. Your eyes remain wide open, flitting in a panic over his features as you feel his lips move against yours. His brow is furrowing behind his glasses, and you’re realizing that you still haven’t kissed him back. You push against his lips experimentally, watching that wrinkle between his eyes all but disappear when he feels it, and you think it looks a lot like relief.

He’s nervous.

Your body moves of its own accord, hands sliding up his chest to grip at his shirt, and your eyes slide closed when you feel one of his hands fall to your waist. He nudges you backward, and you feel the hard surface of your closet door against your back.

Tsukishima slides his tongue against your bottom lip, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he feels you inhale sharply in response. He takes advantage of your surprise, pushing past your lips and brushing his tongue against yours. When you slide your hands up and around his neck, tugging at the hair there, he groans and leans down. 

Planting a hand on the door behind you, he angles his head, slotting his lips against yours. He presses his hips into you, and you can feel how hard he’s getting. You sigh into his mouth at the feeling, smiling when his body reacts to the sound, his cock hardening against your thigh. 

Tsukishima Kei might be impossible to read sometimes, but he never could hide from you.

He drops his mouth to your neck, latching onto a spot under your ear and using his other arm to pull you flush against him. The sounds you’re making are clear now, soft gasps and whimpers echoing in your tiny dorm room.

“So stupid… ” 

You barely hear him, too busy wondering why it had taken so long to feel his lips on your skin.

“The only person in the world that can see right through me, and you were stupid enough to believe what I said. ” He mumbles it into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and sighing when you moan against him.

“You’re so mean…” Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his hand drop to your leg, pulling the fabric of your dress up slightly. He grips at the back of your bare thigh, brushing against your panties and kneading into the plush skin just below your ass.

“What were you gonna do, Y/n, go home with Bokuto?” Tsukishima all but growls the question against your neck, dragging your thigh up and wrapping your leg around his hip. He feels your dress slide up, feels your warmth against his jeans. He’s desperate to get out of them.

“Y-You called me ugly-”

“I never said that.” Yes he had. He knows he had. He just hadn’t realized you would take it to heart. Now he hates himself for even saying it. For pretending you aren’t the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

“Bo said I looked good… Figured I might as well go for someone who’s actually attracted to me…” You whimper when Tsukishima presses his erection against you, your thin panties useless against the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Does it feel like I’m not attracted to you?”

You breathe out a laugh, clinging to his biceps as he sucks another bruise into your skin.

“How was I supposed to know, you dumbass? You only ever say mean things, and I thought I could get over you by-”

“By what?” He’s getting irritated again at the thought of what could have happened tonight if he hadn’t brought you home. If he’d left you alone, like his brain was telling him to. If he’d given you space and just texted you in the morning. 

“You thought you could just fuck some other guy and get over me?” He lifts his head, grinning cruelly when you look up at him, your lip trembling. “Because I didn’t call you pretty tonight? Because you were tired of me being mean all the time?”

You nod, a gasp leaving you when he wraps an arm around your waist and hoists you up so you’re eye-level, slamming you back against the closet door and pinning you there with his hips. Your dress is bunched up around your stomach now, leaving Tsukishima with a perfect view of the wet spot on your panties when he glances down. His grin widens, an evil glint shining behind his glasses.

“But it seems like you like it when I say mean things, Y/n.”

You whine in protest, growing louder when you feel him rut involuntarily against you at the sound.

“This is different, Tsukki-”

“Is it?” He’s distracted when he asks, too busy steadying you in his arms so he can lift you up and away from the closet. Making his way to your bed, he drops you unceremoniously on the mattress, smiling when you yelp. He removes his glasses and leaves them on your bedside table, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed and wrapping his arms around your thighs so he can drag you toward him.

You sit up, taking his face in your hands and pressing your lips urgently to his - even on his knees, he’s tall enough to be eye-level with you. You feel his fingers, long and calloused, drift up your thighs and hook into your panties while he nips almost affectionately at your bottom lip.

“Tsukki… ” You whisper against his mouth, but he’s quick to shake his head, mumbling back to you.

“Not that. ”

You’re a little surprised - you never really call him by his first name. He’d found it uncomfortable the one time you’d tried it as a joke. But if he’s asking, then-

“Kei .” His pulse quickens under your fingertips when you murmur against his lips, his kiss becoming more full, and you realize just how much he likes it.

You pull away and press kisses to his face, peppering them across his nose and cheeks. It’s a moment that’s far softer than either of you had had before, one that has Tsukishima’s heart beating a little too hard in his chest. 

God, he hates being in love.

He pulls away from you, planting one hand on your chest and shoving you away from him. You fall back onto your elbows with a noise of surprise, bouncing lightly on the mattress. Tsukishima only reaches for your panties again, tugging them down and smiling to himself when you lift your hips to help him. 

He throws them somewhere over his shoulder, refusing to break his attention. Planting his hands on each of your knees, he pries your knees open slowly, glancing up at your face for any signs of discomfort. When he finds none, his gaze flicks back down to what’s in front of him.

And then his breath is cutting short at the sight of you lying bare in front of him. You’re glistening, even in this dark room, and his cock is suddenly unbearably hard. 

He’d been thinking about this moment for far longer than he’d ever care to admit. 

“Well, isn’t this just the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen?” 

You throw your head back at his words, moaning loudly. 

“Oh, shut up.” You know Tsukki’s slept with his fair share of girls since you’d started college - being a popular volleyball player has its benefits. You’d done the same, hoping to squash down that jealousy in your own, twisted way. To hear him praising you like this - like you’d always wanted - has you clenching and squirming from the desire coursing through your veins.

“First you get mad because I’m too mean, and now you’re mad because I’m being nice?” He tilts his head, his voice mocking. “You really need to make up your mind.” 

And then, before you can let out some kind of snarky quip, he’s dipping his head and dragging his tongue over your slit in one long stripe. 

You gasp loudly and moan out his name, falling back onto the mattress as your hands fly to his head. You bury your fingers in his hair, tightening your grip when he does it again, licking through your folds before latching onto your clit, pulling the nub gently into his mouth.

He moans loudly against you when you mewl and pull his hair. The vibration on your clit makes you squirm, and you’re involuntarily rutting your hips against his face. He only laughs against you, his breath tickling your skin, and wraps an arm over your hips to hold you steady on the bed.

He pulls his mouth off of you, and you lift your head to look at him in annoyance. He smirks, holding eye contact while he brings his other hand to your folds. When he runs his fingers through them, stopping briefly to circle your clit, you whimper. And when he drops his middle finger to your entrance, nudging gently at it in question, you bite your lip and nod furiously, just wanting him to touch you already-

“Oh my- Kei-” Your head falls back when he slides his finger in and drops his mouth to your clit to suck on it. He sets his pace with his finger, thrusting into you and curling gently up toward himself, repeating the process until he can tell by your squirming hips that you’re starting to feel something.

And then he’s pushing another finger past your entrance, his cock twitching when you moan at the stretch. He’s been painfully hard for a while now, and all he wants is to be inside you of already. He doesn’t realize you’re feeling just as impatient, only noticing when your hands drop to his shoulders, tugging on his shirt.

“Kei …” You pout down at him, your eyelids fluttering when he thrusts his fingers into you again. His fingertips are brushing against a spot you’ve never been able to reach yourself, his fingers much longer than yours. You think you might become addicted to his hands soon. But you only pull again on his shirt with a whine, hoping he’ll get the message. 

Luckily, he does, because he’s pulling away to rip his shirt impatiently off his back, wiping his mouth with it before throwing it to the floor. He unzips his jeans as he makes his way up to the bed, pausing to scoop you up into his arms and tossing you closer to your pillows so he can climb on top of you.

When he pushes his mouth to yours, you’re moaning. He tastes like you, something he’s apparently proud of, because he’s just smiling against you and shoving his tongue past your lips. He drops his mouth to your neck again as he fumbles with his jeans.

“You taste so good, you know that?” He latches onto your skin, sucking harshly. “So much better than I’d imagined.” He pushes his pants just past his thighs, growing impatient. You gasp quietly when his cock brushes against you, the sound changing to a moan when Tsukishima runs it through your folds, sliding against you.

He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours in a moment of astounding clarity given the insanity of this whole night.

“You sure?”

Your heart jumps when he asks. He’s got the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance, clearly holding himself back. But the way he’s looking at you makes you realize he wants this to be done right - after all, this had started with the two of you fighting. He doesn’t want you to regret this later and be even more upset with him.

He doesn’t want to lose you.

The idea that that’s what been hiding behind Tsukki’s eyes tonight - that vague panic that you couldn’t put your finger on - makes your heart sing and your stomach swoop with butterflies. You can only nod, cupping his face and bringing him down to your lips. His kiss is gentle and full of something that makes your nerves worse, something that makes you feel more than sure.

“I want this more than anything.”

Tsukishima’s heart skips, and he’s swearing softly against your lips. He hovers over you, keeping his mouth on yours as he presses his thumb against the head of his cock, guiding it past your entrance.

You gasp together as he pushes slowly into you, a moan pulled from your throat when he bottoms out and breathes out your name. The fog in your head - a mixture of alcohol, arousal, and nerves at the realization that you’re having sex with your best friend - worsens considerably when he drops his head to your neck, making an admission against your ear.

I’ve wanted this for so long …”

You whimper, curling your fingers into his hair and holding him close as he pulls out slowly just to slide into you again. You moan at the slow stretch, feeling his shaky breath against your ear.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you…” Tsukishima doesn’t know why he’s choosing now to have this conversation, when you very well can just talk about it after. But there’s a strand of fear twisting around the butterflies in the pit of his stomach, and his mouth is moving without his permission. He needs you to understand what this means to him.

“I didn’t know it would hurt you… I didn’t mean it…” His hips are still slow, moving languidly against yours. He’d expected this to be rough - sex is only ever rough for him - but he needs to concentrate on what he’s saying. And you feel so good like this, so warm and tight around him.

You’re having the same problem, your head completely empty as you feel him push into you inch by inch instead of all at once. You can barely hear him, your ears ringing and your skin overheating while you try to process that this is actually happening - that you finally have Tsukishima Kei the way that you’d always dreamed about.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Y/n.”

Your heart stutters when you realize what he’s been saying. Even with everything else going on right now - even as his hips are picking up the pace, even with his breath shuddering against your skin as he moans quietly in your ear - he’s distracted, trying to apologize. Trying to make things right between you.

“It’s okay…” You whisper forgiveness into his hair, but you feel him shake his head, his grip on your hips tightening.

“It’s not. I shouldn’t hurt you. Not you…” He gasps quietly into your neck, his hips stuttering momentarily before he returns to his previous speed. “S-Sorry… You feel really good… Trying to focus.”

You flush, clenching around him and pulling him closer when he groans. You think about what he’s saying. ‘ Not you ’?

You’re about to ask what he means, but he’s mumbling another admission against your skin, this one much more intense than the last.

“I love you, Y/n… So fucking in love, it hurts…”

You inhale sharply, your heart stopping in your chest. But then there’s a moan ripping from your throat, because he’s hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know existed, the tip of his cock bumping up against something that makes the coil in the pit of your stomach twist harshly.

“I- fuck - Tsukki, I love you, too…”

Tsukishima lifts his head then, staring down at you with surprise written all over his face. You can only breathe out a laugh, moaning quietly while you giggle.

“What, you’re shocked? I just told you I almost went home with Bokuto just so I could stop thinking about you.”

His eyes darken at your words, and his hips are snapping harshly against yours. You moan in surprise, feeling your stomach flip at the way he’s looking down at you. He seems to remember now just how this night could have gone.

He sits up, knocking your hands away when you reach out for him with a whine, and pulls out of you completely. Slipping off the edge of the bed, he wraps his hands around your thighs and tugs you toward him roughly. He only smiles mockingly down at you when you slide across the mattress with a quiet yelp, pulling your hips flush against his.

When he slips into you again, the soft, caring Tsukishima is gone, replaced with the Tsukki you’ve always known. The one who has no problem running his mouth just to get to you.

“That’s it then, huh? If I hadn’t dragged you home, you’d be wrapped around another man right now?” He slams into you, watching with delight as you cry out and arch your back. He keeps this pace, his grip on your hips bordering on painful as he drives his cock into you.

“Tsukki-”

“What did I tell you? ” His tone cuts through you, yanking hard on that coil in your navel and setting off a fresh flurry of butterflies.

“I- Kei -”

“You think you can forget about me that easily? You think I would let you?” 

You’re writhing under him, hands gripping your sheets tight as you gasp with each hard thrust of his hips on yours. The sight makes Tsukishima’s hips stutter, and he feels his orgasm coming on. He drops his thumb to your clit to push you closer to the edge, throwing his head back with a moan when you clench around him.

“Kei, please- feels so goo- ah- ”

“S-Shit, Y/n, I’m not gonna last… Where should I-” Tsukishima almost loses it when you claw at his hands on your hips, latching onto his wrists as you moan.

“Insi-Inside… Inside, Kei, please…” You look up at him, taking in the flush of his cheeks, the way his eyelids flutter when you clench around him. The way he bites down hard on his bottom lip and moans after a few seconds, breaking his hold on you so he can slam his hands down on the mattress on either side of you, his hair falling into his face as he pants down at you.

“Fuck -” He reaches down, brushing his thumb over your clit again. When you tighten around him this time, he’s letting out a choked gasp and your name, and you’re suddenly filled with warmth as his hips stutter, as he spills into you. He drops his head to your shoulder, his breath shaky as he thrusts into you, riding out his orgasm.

And when he’s done - when his cum is dripping out of you while you squirm, feeling full but unsatisfied - he sits up, pulling you against him again. He wraps his fingers around your wrists, smiling breathlessly when you cling to his forearms, and uses you as leverage when he draws his hips back and snaps them harshly into yours.

You cry out, feeling yourself throb the more he all but drags you down onto his cock and tries to draw your orgasm out of you. He releases your wrists, his thumb circling that little bundle of nerves while his other hand grips the back of your thigh, spreading your legs even further. 

When he changes the angle of his stroke, you’re gasping, unable to handle all of the sensations he’s causing in your body. There’s too much going on, too many feelings happening, each of which is bringing you closer to the edge. You slap your hands down over your face, trying both to muffle your moans and also hide your face, feeling embarrassed that your body is reacting so strongly to everything Tsukishima does.

He only coos down at you, his tone almost insulting.

“Oh, is my baby going to come?”

You whine loudly at his words, so rude but so endearing - your stomach swoops as the coil tightens, but you nod anyway. His low chuckle reaches your ears.

“Let me see you, then.” When you don’t respond, only moaning into your hands with each thrust, he clicks his teeth at you in annoyance. “Come on, Y/n. I wanna see how pretty my best friend looks when she comes on my cock.”

Tsukishima beams when that does it, your back arching as you cry out his name. You screw your eyes shut and fumble desperately for his hands. He slips his fingers through yours, holding tight when you come, your walls fluttering around him. He fucks you through it, inhaling sharply when you become impossibly tight, and then drops down over you when you're done, pressing his lips to yours.

You let out a sob against his mouth, your limbs heavy as you try to catch your breath. 

“Tsukki …” You wiggle uncomfortably, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging to him. He laughs against your neck, pressing kisses to your skin. And then he leans up again, pressing his lips to your tiredly.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He snickers when you whine but joins in on your soft gasp when he slides out of you, both of you sensitive. Stripping you out of the dress that’s been bunched up on your stomach this whole time, he leaves you on the bed, kicking his jeans off as he makes his way into your connected bathroom. When he returns, it’s with a wet rag and a gentle hand on your thighs.

Tsukishima scoops you into his arms when he’s done, setting you carefully against the pillows and climbing into bed with you. Your head is still empty, and you reach your arms out uselessly for him, mumbling his name. He only smiles, pulling you against his chest and kissing the side of your head.

“You okay?” When you nod sleepily against his chest, he smiles, tugging you closer. “Not too mean?”

You giggle, planting a kiss on his neck.

“I like you a little mean.”

Tsukishima snorts, shaking his head.

“I know you do. But still…” He meets your eyes, suddenly shy, his cheeks flushing. “I’ll be better from now on. Less ‘ toxic boyfriend ’ and more ‘ insufferable but still cute ’.”

You beam at his words, your heart skipping.

“Boyfriend , huh?”

He rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, I’m sorry - I forgot you and Bokuto were basically married.”

“Oh, right, I should probably tell him the wedding’s off-”

“You’re a dick.”

[meiieiri]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐚 [gojo satoru]

synopsis: you got married to gojo satoru at the edge of a frozen lake in summer.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

warnings/tags: heavy angst, a love that’s TOO LITTLE TOO LATE if one can even call that a tag, unrequited love (kinda).

Marriage is a golden ring on a chain whose beginning is a single glance between two unsuspecting souls that ends with eternity.

Twelve years. You’ve loved him through twelve springs. It’s bittersweet to think how a person could give another their youth for free. But then again, the only things that you truly keep are the things you give away. That’s just life, isn’t it? And besides, you take a step towards the blue peony littered aisle with a wistful smile on your face as you picture a certain arctic-haired man standing at the other end, when it comes to matters of the heart, keeping ledgers of the love you give and the love you receive is a futile effort.

You should probably put that in your vows later. But ah, what did it matter? Satoru’s probably just gonna wing it later, arguing that expressions of love should be light-hearted and candid much like the love you share.

“Y/N-chan~!” He steps in front of you, his tall form towering over you as he catches you by the student lounge’s vending machine. Shoko smirks behind you, pulling Suguru ahead of you to leave the two of you alone. She nudges you forward and you cast her a betrayed look to which she only replies with an innocent shrug. It’s common knowledge to everyone in Tokyo Jujutsu High how you feel about the Gojo clan’s illustrious little starlet.

Well, it was common knowledge to everyone except Satoru Gojo.

And you don’t know if you find that comforting or saddening.

Comforting that he wouldn’t find out about your feelings from someone else, though you’re still working up the courage to fess up, you wholeheartedly believe that this is something he should hear from you and you alone. Saddening that maybe the reason he’s been all blissfully ignorant of how your breath becomes shallow whenever he’s around you is he’s actually already aware of your feelings towards him and he’s only deflecting it.

“We’ll go ahead, Y/N,” Shoko says in a sing-song voice, taking your cursed tool from you. “Come see me if you have any injuries!”

“But if it’s a broken heart, she probably can’t fix it,” Suguru chimes in, winking at Satoru as if to say: ‘Go talk to her.’ before turning to follow his girlfriend.

A hush falls between you and Satoru, unspoken words swirling around the two of you like a symphony of longing. Both of you seem to be saying the same thing:

Should I tell her?

Should I tell him?

What would she say?

Would he leave?

If the truth is meant to set you free, then he is your jailer. Why is he content with never uttering those words aloud? Why are you so eager to stay in the hedge maze of your mind, seeking his shadow at every corner? This was a tiring game of hide and seek.

But Satoru is completely fine with letting it drag on if it meant he’d never risk losing you.

And you were fine with that too. You were fine being a prisoner to your truth as long as he was with you in this jail cell. You were fine.

Whatever fine means.

“Wanna go to the arcade?” Satoru looks at you with a shimmering bittersweet look in his eyes.

You smile and a breathy laugh falls from your lips causing his face to light up even more.

“That depends, you gonna let me win?”

“Never.”

“Y/N! There you are.”

You turn around to see an older Shoko, her youthful bob cut having outgrown its juvenile flare. She looks out of breath, she must have run around the venue looking for you and judging from the way she keeps glancing at her watch, and the exasperated look she was throwing your way at the sight of you still in your silk robe, you needed to get moving.

But your feet remain planted in the middle of the empty aisle, your gaze trained on the arch.

“You feeling okay?” Shoko asks, her hand finding yours in a tender display of solidarity. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know.”

You flash her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I know. Just…deep in thought.”

“Yeah.”

Weddings are always so beautiful, you think to yourself as Shoko steps back giving you some space as you contemplate the day ahead. Your fingers trace one of the satin linens adorning the trellises much like your heart traces the contours of a love too delicate to verbalize, too powerful to ignore. Your gaze dances over the elegant arrangements of blue, white and gray, the scent of grapefruit-quince adorning the air, mixing with the scent of peonies, jasmines and white musk.

Everything here speaks of the imminent union of two souls finding their way to each other. And how comforting it is to know that no matter where you wander, all paths inevitably lead to Satoru Gojo. And you have your drunk cartographer heart to thank for that.

“He loves you,” Shoko finally says, catching your wrist to bring you over to the gazebo to get touched up.

“…I know.”

You look back at the empty aisle, with all but one question in your mind.

What happens when simply knowing is no longer enough?

“Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again with my sunglasses off?”

You nearly choke on your yogurt drink when you see yet another stunningly familiar light blue sticky note on your desk. Satoru fucking Gojo is going to be the death of you one day. Your touch grazes over the hastily scribbled note, a small smile playing at your lips as you take out a white pad of sticky notes from your school bag. After collecting your thoughts, you decide to play along with his little game, your heart fluttering when you realize that this back and forth could actually be considered flirting.

“There’s no such thing as love at first sight. And sorry, pretty boys like you aren’t exactly my type.”

Satoru finds the white sticky note plastered on his stool in Jujutsu Tech’s science lab. Despite the playful jab in your reply, Satoru is hyperfixated on the fact that you just called him pretty. Did you really mean it? He bites the inside of his cheek being careful not to grin too much in fear of Suguru catching wind of what’s happening — the strongest sorcerer of this generation being caught off-guard by his little crush? Detestable!

“You think I’m pretty? ;) I knew it.”

Shoko looks at you funnily, you’re practically red as a tomato with how you’re fuming from the ears and sputtering about how ridiculous Satoru is being. “He’s just so…so…!”

“You really should work on finishing your sentences now~”

You are interrupted at the sight Satoru practically hopping down the steps leading to the training field with a convenience store bag tucked under his arm and you sigh exasperatedly, turning away as if he was a bug that’s hovering over your ear that you really shouldn’t be paying attention to. All of his six foot two form plops down next to you and you jump when he presses a cold ice cream bar to your cheek.

“You’re awfully generous today, Satoru,” you smirk, accepting and lifting the ice cream bar in silent gratitude, suppressing the blush creeping onto your cheeks.

Satoru blushes himself, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Shit, say something, Satoru thinks to himself. Was he being too obvious? Did you somehow piece it together now that he has feelings for you?

In his internal dilemma, Satoru settles for undermining the deliberate gesture.

“I only needed two more stickers to get this really neat toy,” Satoru explains, reaching into the convenience store bag and pulling out his new tamagotchi. “Pretty worth it, I would say. The one I saw in Akihabara is being sold for 7500 yen, but that’s the angelgotch variety, so I kinda get the whole roadside robbery thing.”

Of course, he steered the conversation elsewhere. You’re not even surprised at this point that he’ll always only stay at the surface when he treads these long drawn out conversations with you, too afraid to say anything more — do anything more — than what was necessary as your friend.

Keyword: friend.

He had no obligation to you other than being your friend. And you don’t blame him. You’re not angry at him that he’s only willing to stay in shallow water with you, it’s just…

“Hey, I have to go, Yaga’s calling me.” Satoru casually interrupts your train of heartbroken thoughts, but you do not miss the unease in his voice, he almost sounds sorry that he has to bail again.

But you already send him off with a reluctant thumbs up. As you look at his retreating form, he stops for a bit at the stone tori gate, his head bowed in thought, you don’t know why you held your breath. He reaches into his pocket, but thinks better of it, and he paces two hesitant steps forward.

Then, he looks back to meet your eyes from afar.

And his heart clenches in a mixture of affection and exasperation when you are the first to blushingly look away.

The ten feet separating the two of you is very reminiscent of how you began: running in opposite directions to outdo the other in your competition to see who can act that they care less, placing more distance between your flustered hearts. Satoru gazes at you as if he’s seen the divine incarnated into a single beautiful being. He wipes a tear from his eye, sniffing momentarily, watching you gracefully float down the aisle with an equally smitten expression on your features.

Clutching the bouquet in your hands, you don’t break eye contact and everything seems to unfold like a motion picture before your very eyes, your and Satoru’s life together in vivid cinematography: your first dance later tonight, your first trip out of the country together for your honeymoon, your first time, your first year, your first child. Everything. You’ve imagined Satoru to be your first in everything. And as you make your way to the aisle, tears glistening in both your orbs, you stop to meet in the middle, the two of you standing on fate’s edge together.

He casts you a look, and you offer him a melancholic smile.

This was it.

…

…

…

…

The doors open and his bride arrives, and you move to the side, taking your place next to Shoko, painfully leaving the space you and Satoru briefly shared, a space that was never meant for you in the first place.

Which begs the question again: what happens when knowing is no longer enough?

Or is it…the two of you never knew at all how the other felt?

No, you and Shoko watch as Satoru stares at you from his peripheral, his heart fragmenting into irreparable pieces at each step his bride makes towards him.

Should I tell her?

Should I tell him?

What would she say?

Would he leave?

The answer is clear now. He wouldn’t have left. Things were just left unsaid, never admitted — the words that you longed to hear from one another never fell from your lips. Not once in the twelve years you secretly held him in your heart. And thus, fate then decreed that love is for the brave, and not for cowardly souls like you and Satoru Gojo.

And with whatever strength you have left, uncaring if this would cause you to look scandalous: a bridesmaid going after the groom, you mouth the words: “I love you.”

A pained smile appears on his lips, an allegory to the goofy grins he used to flash you when you two were young, and he nods, tears in his eyes.

This was twelve years too late. But it’s better than never.

“I knew it.”

[hippiegoth97]

Random Spencer Reid Thought #1

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, fem!reader, bau!reader, new relationship, sex at work, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, no use of Y/N, caught in the act (kinda, at the end), fluff

Some Tags: @hotwritergf @melodymunson @rafeyscurtainbangs @mediocredreams @loserboysandlithium

@bloodibambiidoll @littlexdeaths @sanctumdemunson @cairro-xx @veemoon (tbh I wasn't sure who all to tag, so I tagged some moots and people I know usually read my stuff. Feel free to ignore if it's not your thing tho lol)

"I swear to god, you're gonna get us caught one of these days, Reid." You say breathlessly, tugging on Spencer's tie to keep his lips close to yours. You'd dragged him into a nearby supply closet after the rest of the team had dispersed for lunch, most of them heading to a new BBQ place nearby. They'd asked you and Spencer to come along, but you've both had much more pressing things on your mind.

From the second you came in this morning (separately, of course, even though he'd stayed the night at your place), your eyes have wandered from your work to each other's desks from across the cluster. It's been absolute torture, forced to sit so far apart, unable to touch each other or whisper all the dirty things you plan to do later. All you had to get yourself by was vivid thoughts of Spencer tossing his papers away, stalking over to you, and bending you over your desk to fuck you silly. You're sure he was picturing similar filthy things, given how often he cleared his throat and crossed or uncrossed his legs. Although, the ideas inside his head are usually more centered around getting down on his knees and burying his face between your thighs. It's a wonder that nobody seemed to notice your discomfort, really. The amount of stolen glances and fidgeting in your seats are certainly behaviors that should set off a profiler's internal alarms. But, thus far, you've managed to fly just below everyone's radar.

You've been seeing each other for a few months now, keeping it a secret from everybody else. It started off as a fluke date shortly after you joined the BAU team, and Spencer took a shine to your quick wit and bottomless well of intellect in no time at all. He'd asked you out for coffee (after a barrage of peer-pressuring encouragement from Morgan), wanting to show you around a bit as you were new to the area at the time. Spencer was a complete gentleman, opening the door for you, pulling out your chair, offering you his jacket when you got cold. Add on the way you talked one another's ears off about everything under the sun, moon and stars, and you were hooked on each other in an instant. Neither of you had met anyone who could keep up, or maintain your interest before. By the time he walked you home that night, you shared in the knowledge that this...spark you felt was something special.

Things progressed rather quickly from there. You've gone out together at least once a week, even sneaking out at night during cases to get some quality time in. A dinner here, a tipsy make-out in either of your hotel rooms there, as well as more educational outings to the planetarium, various lectures, and art exhibits when you're at home base. It didn't take long to heat things up, either. Spencer was less experienced than you, having only a couple casual hook-ups under his belt, which went as awkwardly as one would expect. But you were patient with him, showing him what you like and what you don't, helping him figure out the same for himself. It was a simultaneously experimental and exhilarating experience for you both when you finally had sex the first time.

And now, here you are, all wandering hands and moaning mouths in a closet full of office supplies. Spencer's got you sitting on a metal filing cabinet, legs spread in your pencil skirt as he stands between them. His large hands grip and squeeze your thighs, while he rolls his hips to press his erection against your clothed cunt. "Don't act as if the idea of getting found out doesn't turn you on." Spencer teases, smiling against your lips as you tug him forward into another kiss.

"Maybe a little." You admit, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. Your eyes drift closed, and you feel his hand slowly slip further down your leg and under your skirt. His lithe fingers pull your panties to the side, rubbing sensual circles around your clit. You moan down his throat, your own hands reaching blindly for his belt now. You don't have a lot of time, as much as you hate to rush this.

"We should tell them soon. It's only a matter of time before they catch on." Spencer suggests, slipping two fingers into your soaked pussy with ease. The sound he ends up swallowing from your lungs makes his dick twitch inside his pants. Never in his life did he think he'd be so lucky to find a woman like you, or a woman at all, for that matter. Spencer enjoys every moment spent with you like it's his last, and it's been nice existing in this safe romantic bubble. But sneaking around has its disadvantages, namely having to keep his hands to himself when you're around the team. Far be it from Reid to be unprofessional in any sense, but, fuck, it's so hard to behave when you're around.

"I know, Penelope's been dropping lots of extra hints lately." You say with a light laugh, your insides boiling as Spencer curls his digits inside of you. They're perfectly long and slender, reaching all the right places every time. He's made you come with them alone on many occasions.

"I noticed. She's not very subtle." Reid chuckles, his gaze drifting down as you manage to get his belt unfastened. You waste no time in undoing to button and zip, reaching inside his boxers to grab hold of his aching length. According to you, he's very well endowed. Even though he's aware the average size of male genitalia is 5.1 inches when erect, he's never gotten curious enough to measure himself. A brief visual guess probably puts him at around seven or eight, not that he's all that concerned about it. All he cares about it making you happy, and his mind is far too vast to be fixated on how long his cock is.

"I don't think she ever has been." You comment, eyes focused on Spencer's dick in your grasp. He's rock solid, his tip rosy pink and leaking pearlescent precum. The sight makes your pussy throb around Reid's fingers. If you had more time, you'd drop to your knees in an instant.

"And that's why we love her." Spencer adds, groaning as you stroke him nice and slow. The both of you keep this up for a moment, zeroing in on one another's most sensitive areas that you've craved all day. Soft sighs and moans leave your mouths, mingling with the wet schlick sounds of your foreplay. "But, enough about the team." He says softly, meeting your gaze. His free hand cups your cheek, drawing you in closer as you stare into his beautiful brown eyes. "This moment is just for us." He nearly whispers as he kisses you deeply, lovingly. Neither of you have dropped the 'L' word yet, though you both certainly feel it for one another. But the time to say it definitely isn't during a lunchtime quickie in a damn closet. The occasion will present itself, at a later date.

While Spencer has your attention captured in the kiss, he gently takes his cock from your grasp and into his own. He gasps against you, tangling his tongue with yours to make your knees weak, just like you taught him. He gives his dick a couple fervent strokes, taking his fingers out of your cunt so he can line himself up. You whine at the loss, though your stomach twists in anticipation of what will soon take their place. Using his pruned fingers to hold your panties to the side, the sticky tip of Spencer's cock nudges against your center. More moans brew within your throats, kept hidden inside to prevent you from being discovered.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, hands tangling in his hair as you melt into him. His lips and tongue make you feel dizzy with lust, and his cockhead rutting against your folds is sending you into orbit. "Spence, please. I need you, baby." You plead between desperate kisses.

"I need you, too, you have no idea." Reid replies, pulling back just a moment so he can see what he's doing. He positions his dick at your entrance, and pushes inside at an agonizing pace. Low moans escape you both, you at the stretch, and him at the squeeze. "Fuck, you're so wet." Spencer says, trying to keep his cool.

"All for you, Spence." You say sweetly, locking your ankles behind his back, pulling him as close to you as possible with your legs. His hands return to your thighs, holding on tight as he begins to thrust.

Spencer starts off slow, watching as his cock pumps in and out of your pussy with no resistance. Your arousal makes him all shiny in the dim light, already forming a creamy ring around his base. "God, you're perfect." He exhales, unable to think of a single thing that looks as beautiful as this. The two of you, becoming one, your interlocking parts sculpted by nature to fit together flawlessly. Nothing within his expansive memory could possibly compare.

"So are you, baby. Can you go faster? We're running out of time." You beg pathetically, needing this release before you inevitably have to go back to work filling out papers and looking over crime scene photos.

"I hate how right you are about that." Spencer replies with a broken sigh, picking up speed with his thrusts. The infallibly accurate internal clock you share is ticking down, every push of his hips against yours marking each second that's taken from you. He plants his lips on yours again, focusing on giving you what those desperate noises you're making are telling him. You need him, all of him. Every last inch rutting into your sopping cunt until you see stars. And when it comes to you, Reid always aims to please.

"Fuck, Spence, just like that." You pant between fervent kisses, marveling at the way his cock pounds into your g-spot with flawless precision. The coil of arousal you've been building up since you sat down with your coffee this morning ripples and tangles with every thrust.

It becomes rather difficult for Spencer to keep kissing you when his pace picks up even more. His head falls forward, resting on your shoulder as he continues to wind you both up towards ecstasy. He turns his head slightly, hatching the naughty idea to speak lowly in your ear. "I can't wait until we get home later, and I can take my time with you." He says, trying so hard not to let the loud groans he wants to emit come through. They come out as hushed whimpers instead, which only turns you on more.

"Fuck." You let out a small noise of your own, muted as you bite down on your lower lip. But he hears it all the same, and keeps going.

"I'll spend all night touching you in all your favorite places, fuck you until the sun comes up, make you cry out for me as many times as you ask me to." His words are equally filthy and adoring, showing you just how much he wants to worship you and your body. Chills run up and down your spine as he speaks, his breath burning hot against your neck. It's nearly too much, and yet, you can't enough.

"God, Spence, please don't stop!" You moan, far too loudly.

"Now who's gonna get us caught?" Reid teases, even though the way you squealed nearly made him blow his load entirely.

"Sorry...sorry..." You pant the words out, for fear of being too loud again.

"It's okay, baby. I like knowing just how good I make you feel." He coos to you, almost sending you over the edge. Your walls squeeze around him tightly in warning. His breath catches at the sensation, right there with you in terms of how close you are to reaching climax. "God, that's it...you're so close, so am I. Gonna make you cum, gonna make you feel so good, I swear...so fucking good..." Spencer's mind sprints faster than his mouth can get the words out, barely audible as he buries himself further into your neck. He slams himself into you even harder, faster, chasing his release and dragging you alongside him.

"Spencer, oh my god." You gasp as he hits that perfect place inside you cunt even better than before, his hips pounding against yours hard enough to leave bruises. His hands dig into the flesh of your thighs, his mouth sucking and licking at your neck in a feverish need to make you lose control. It's definitely working, the waves of bliss beginning to roll over you in thick crashes. "Oh, god, make me cum, baby...don't stop, you feel so good..." You babble mindlessly as your insides flutter around Reid's dick, threatening to clamp down on him at any moment. "Fuck, oh, I'm gonna cum...oh, god- fuck...oh, spenceSpenceSPENCE!" You clap a hand over your mouth to conceal your scream as your orgasm takes hold. You tremble violently in Spencer's grip, your pussy strangling him with all its might. Stars blur your vision, pure pleasure coursing through your veins at lightning speed. You cling to him, nails clawing at his back, heels digging into his ass helplessly.

"Fuck-ing- god." Spencer stutters out as you squeeze him so tight, biting down hard into your neck to muffle the load groan rushing from his chest. He pierces you sloppily through his release, painting your eager walls with thick ropes of sticky white, hips stuttering and feral grunts leaving him with every stab of his spent cock. He gradually comes to a stop as your shared high subsides, pulling his softening length from you, watching as your mixed release flows from your now-sore cunt. He reaches into his pocket for a kerchief he keeps for such occasions, gazing adoringly into your lust-drunk eyes as he cleans you up. He would use his mouth, if there were time for such things.

You gasp as the soft fabric meets your puffy lips, never breaking Spencer's stare while he takes care of you. You've never felt more in love in your life than you do right now, with your legs still spread wide open, while this gorgeous, scrawny, genius wipes your combined spend away. Once you're all clean, he pulls your skirt back down over your legs, and puts his flaccid cock inside his pants, fastening the belt with casual ease. He helps you down from the cabinet, noting your wobbling legs as you stand in your sensible heels.

"All set?" He asks, earning a giggle from you as his hair has become more of a mess than usual.

"Almost." You say softly, smoothing down his unruly locks to look more presentable, and less like you two just went to town on each other over lunch. "Well, we'd better get back out there. The others should be arriving back now." You say, heading for the door first. You hate to leave at all, but the last thing you need is to get caught right now.

"I'll wait the three minutes, and meet you back in there." Three minutes, the amount of time you'd determined was appropriate enough to excuse you both coming back to the bullpen near the same time without raising suspicion. No one bats an eye at three minutes difference. It could be explained away as a coffee refill, a bathroom break, anything really. But returning at the same time? Or leaving this small room at the same time? Out of the question. You'd made the mistake of returning at the same time once, and you didn't hear the end of it from the team for a good three days, despite the assertion that you and Reid had been in separate places at the time.

"Okay. See you then." You nod, giving him a quick kiss. You open the door, checking to see if the coast is clear. Satisfied with your findings, you step out from the closet, closing the door behind you. You're about to turn and walk in the direction of the bullpen, when you end up smack dab in front of Penelope. You have no idea where she came from just now, or how long she's been hiding out. But the sly smirk on her face tells you she knows enough. "Hey, Garcia. How was your lunch?" You ask nervously, failing to play it cool.

"Oh, it was good. I brought some leftover eggplant parmesan from home." Penelope replies, nearly bursting with the knowledge that you and Reid have indeed been hooking up, as she rightly suspected. "How was yours?" She asks coyly, biting her lip as she expects you to spill all the gory details she couldn't hear through the door.

"It was...fine. I packed a lunch as well." You answer, clearing your throat.

"Oh, I'm sure you packed something. What did you have? Some sausage maybe? Or a footlong?" Penelope continues to tease, and at this point, you know the jig is up.

"Oh, alright! Yes, I did! You happy now?" You exclaim, rolling your eyes as your arms cross out of reflex.

"I knew it! I knew it!" Garcia chuckles, doing one of the dorkiest victory dances you've ever seen. The few passersby give her a sideways glance, but she doesn't pay them any mind.

"Okay, okay!" You put your hands on her shoulders to still her, meeting her eyes. "Look, can you just promise me you won't say anything? Spencer and I plan to tell everyone when the time is right, but we like keeping this thing to ourselves for now. Alright?" You implore with her to keep her mouth shut, for your sake, as your friend, and Spencer's.

"Yeah, I can do that." She nods in understanding, pulling you in for a hug. "I'm so happy for you guys!" She squeals, getting excited again.

"Thanks, Garcia. I appreciate that." You smile, returning her embrace.

"So do I." Spencer says from the other side of the door.

"You better treat her right, pretty boy! Or mama is gonna get you!" Penelope warns with all the love in the world.

"I fully intend to." Spencer replies, and you can practically see his lovesick expression from out here, and how his eyes must be looking straight at where he imagines you're standing, meaning every one of those four simple words.

[anystalker707]

a sweet reminder

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: Spending a nice time with Luke after he's done working at the farm, and of course he's awfully sweet. Tags: clingy luke / he really wants to take care of you / lots of kisses

MASTER LIST

          Despite the usual high temperatures, the day felt exceptionally hot—the suns seemed to be taking out personal anger on Luke, making each step towards his home feel like torture, and he already knew he’d need some cream later tonight to deal with burning in the areas where the sunlight chastened his tanned skin. He furrowed his eyebrows, patting his clothes to get rid of the sand accumulated between the folds.

The droids wouldn’t do everything, so Luke still needed to carry those heavy buckets of water back home to refill the sprinklers. He tried to balance between no water spilled and the intense pain in his fingers to let buckets down on the ground as slowly as he could, and the pain lingered uncomfortably around his knuckles.

“Fuck,” Luke breathed as he opened and closed his hand a few times until the stiffness went away, or at least most of it. He sighed as he placed his hands on his hips, looking down, letting the breeze refresh the back of his neck before he moved to finish his task. He would be free for the last of the day, hopefully.

Luke’s thoughts were fuzzy already after so many hours under the suns, but he had done that enough times to trust himself on autopilot. He could name a handful of things—more, actually—he would rather be doing right now.

A long breath escaped his lips once he was done, and he tried his best to ignore the tingling in the back of his mind that told him it was only a matter of time before his uncle told him to do something else. He took a deep breath as he walked over to the kitchen, his body instinctively freezing when he heard his name being called, but hey, it wasn’t Uncle Owen.

“Luke,” the voice called again, and he stepped out to see you coming down the edge. A smile tugged on your lips when you finally saw him, sighing. “Wow, you look like you’ve been… smuggled by Jawas.”

“Oh,” Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “Just slaving away as usual,” he breathed, glancing behind him, but no one from his family was around. He wiped the sweat away from his brow with his forearm, and he shook his head again so that his strands would fall back into place.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just feeling a little too hot and cranky.” Luke scrunched his nose a little. Today’s weather seemed harsher than usual, and opposite to his wishes to stay home upgrading his ship, he had to work at the farm for longer than normal today.

You raised your eyebrows, nodding faintly. “I was gonna ask you to come grab a drink with me, but we don’t need to go anywhere if you don’t want to.”

Luke’s eyes followed your hand reaching out to brush his hair back into place, and he made sure to stand still while you did so. “Doesn’t sound bad at all,” he said. “Maybe we can have a couple of glasses of blue milk while we hang out in the garage. I was gonna tinker around with my stuff anyway.” He grabbed your hand, walking by the kitchen with you to grab the promised drink before you two could go sit on the couch in the garage. He always sat close, pressed to your side. “Ugh, what a day, I swear. Anything interesting happened while I was slaving away?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoffed with an endearing smile. You enjoyed the refreshing sensation of the blue milk going down your throat, and the garage felt a lot nicer than being cooked under the suns outside. On the other hand, maybe it’d be colder than usual tonight. “And no, nothing interesting. I did hit my head on the edge of a ship while fixing it, though. I’m not sure if that’s interesting,” you chuckled, bringing a hand up to the sore spot on top of your head out of instinct.

Blue eyes observed you over the rim of the glass before Luke lowered it, licking his lips as his eyes roamed over you with clear concern, a crease forming between his eyebrows. A small sound came from him as he put his glass away. “Oh no, are you alright? Let me take a look.” He adjusted his position and placed your glass on the table as well, reaching out to touch your head. His fingertips gently traced the area where you’d hit with a delicate and soft touch. “Does this hurt?” He applied a little pressure.

“Ow,” you hissed at the unexpected pain, though it wasn’t too bad. You’d forget it hurt if nothing touched the area you’d hit. “Only a little sore.” 

“I don’t feel any bumps or swelling, but I think we should keep an eye on it, anyway,” Luke exhaled. “But that’s a relief. We don’t want you losing any more brain cells.” He chuckled and kissed the top of your head carefully, his hand descending to cup your cheek for a brief moment. Concern was evident in his eyes as they met yours, making your heart flutter in your chest. “I have a bacta spray. It should help. Do you want me to get it?”

You placed your hand on top of his to squeeze it reassuringly, letting it fall to your lap. “I’m fine, I swear. Maybe we should be more worried about your brain cells cooking in this heat, yeah?” You chuckled, running your thumb over Luke’s knuckles when his eyes widened, and you were sure his blushing would be apparent if it weren’t for his sun-kissed skin.

“H-Hey, my brain is just fine, thank you very much!” Luke’s attempt to sound indignant failed miserably with his embarrassment, and he bit his lip, glancing away. “It’s not like I’m hallucinating or anything.” His eyes softened when they met yours again, and he lifted his free hand, his fingertips grazing your cheek gently—he raised his eyebrows a little when you leaned into his touch. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He leaned in closer. “Maybe I should take another look, just to be safe.”

Part of you regretted telling Luke about the bump when concern laced his gaze once more—you thought he’d be more used to it, since you and him were always with a bruise or another from working on those ships or machines the whole time.

“It’s okay,” you insisted, catching his hand between yours before he could reach for your head again. “Trust me, Luke.” You squeezed his hand gently.

Luke exhaled. “Okay. If you’re sure.” He looked down at your joined hands before he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. “But if it gets worse, you’ll tell me, right?” His wide, earnest eyes looked into yours, pleading, before he pressed his forehead to yours, both out of habit and out of worry. Clingy, as always. “I could kiss it better.” His breath fanned over your face. “If you want me to, I mean.” As if he hadn’t already.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” you mumbled, your eyelids instinctively hiding half of your irises when the distance between you diminished. “Why are you always doing this? Pressing your forehead to mine. Trying to read my thoughts?” You chuckled, and he couldn’t help but do the same.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Luke furrowed his eyebrows lightly. “It feels… nice. Comforting, I guess.” He bit his lip, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, near the base of your neck. “Don’t act like I’m being clingy.”

“Yeah, feels nice, I enjoy it too… But you’re very clingy all the time, in fact,” you whispered with a small smile, placing a hand on his waist instead, adjusting your position so that you could be closer to each other.

A soft scoff escaped his lips. “You’re the one who wouldn’t stop kissing me the last time,” he pointed out with a shy smile, and he quickly pulled one of your legs to hook over his. “Not that I’m complaining,” he mumbled in a quieter, embarrassed voice, but he didn’t move away. The closeness was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. “I really like it when you do that.”

You raised your eyebrows, feigning cluelessness, despite how your heart fluttered in your chest. “Me? I never even kissed you. Let alone kiss you nonstop.” You clicked your tongue.

Luke pulled away suddenly, making your head fall forward a little, and looked at you with a wide grin and disbelief. “What? But you did! Here in the garage, when we were working on the speeder.” He paused. “Trying to.”

“Did I?” You raised your eyebrows. “I don’t remember it, baby.”

His heart pounded in his chest, and his cheeks burned, not just because of being under the sunlight for hours before. With a dramatically heavy sigh, he leaned in again. “Maybe you should kiss me again, love.” He glanced at your lips. “Just to remind you.”

“Oh, so that’s your suggestion?” You asked, and Luke nodded, biting his lip. “‘M not sure about it,” you mumbled against his cheek, nuzzling it softly.

“Well, we should try, maybe it’ll remind you,” Luke chuckled softly, turning his head. His lips brushed against yours in a barely-there touch. It was more of a tease, but still managed to send a tingling down his spine. He cupped the side of your neck, his thumb under your jaw, leaning in, and finally kissed you properly. His lips finally met yours, his breath hitching. Luke loved the warmth of your mouth, the softness of your lips, and it made his head spin when you kissed him back just as lovingly. “Like this?”

“I don’t think I’ve remembered enough,” you said as soon as his lips broke away from yours.

Luke chuckled. “We’ll have to keep trying, then.” He pecked your lips. “Until you remember.” Despite the calloused skin, his hands gently cupped your face as he kissed you once more, needy lips pressing to yours in a longer, deeper kiss. His kisses were messy in the best way possible, oscillating between the need and shyness, refraining into more contained movements right after deepening it and getting lost on your lips, trying to get a grip of himself again. “Do you like this?” Luke’s lips grazed yours as he spoke.

“Mhm. So good.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, mirroring his smile. He couldn’t be close enough.

Something shifted in Luke’s gaze as he tilted his head; it was like you were the most precious thing in the whole universe. He kissed you again, letting it last longer, as his thumbs ran along your cheekbones. “You’re so good at this,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist to hug you tightly while nuzzling your nose. “I love being close to you like this.”

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

[soaps-mohawk]

So...

I've been doing some thinking about a couple of things.

This blog has grown considerably, even from its start and I appreciate each and every one of you so much. Your support never ceases to amaze me and I owe all of you a lot for giving me something to focus on this year instead of spiraling into insanity.

But

Things have gotten a tad bit overwhelming recently between trying to run the blog and trying to write. I find myself either having to ignore the blog to get writing done, or sacrifice writing time and energy to spend time on the blog and keep up with all the replies/reblogs/asks etc. Definitely not complaining, you all never cease to amaze me.

But, I am just one person and my brain only has so much power right now. So, I'm planning to take some (more) time off each week right now while I focus on writing and planning since we're getting into some serious plot stuff soon. So I'm planning to be on the blog three days a week for a while: Saturday, Sunday, and Thursday. That gives me some time to get some writing done as well as some time to rest my brain.

Saturday and Sunday of course to post the chapter and respond to replies and reblogs so I don't get super behind. Monday I'll have some asks queued up as well as maybe a few reblogs. I'll still use the queue Tuesday and Wednesday for reblogs/asks with spoilers as usual. Thursday I'll be on the blog answering asks from Monday - Wednesday as well as things I get that day. I'll queue up a few things for Friday since that day gives me a little break between to prepare for the weekend and posting the chapter.

I'll probably add more days as time goes on. You can still send in asks on the days I'm gone, but just know I won't see them or respond to them until later in the week. I already get behind by a couple days on asks anyway so that's not much of a change.

Don't feel bad for sending them either, I love getting all these asks, I just tend to get behind on days I spend more time writing.

The second order of business

has to do with my taglist. Most of you probably haven't noticed (which I don't blame you lol) but my taglist has gotten very big. Very, very big. It's just over 230 people right now, and I'm sure there will be others asking to join. It's quite time consuming to do all of these tags for every chapter (especially since we can't tag in blocks anymore) so I've been doing some thinking into how I can make it easier for me, and for you.

I know there's at least one blog I've heard of, though I'm sure there's more, that have made side blogs that they have people follow and turn on notifications for and just make a post on that blog when they post a chapter or fic, etc. I've been considering doing that since the taglist is a lot of work and time.

I've also seen blogs that have side blogs that just post chapters/fics and nothing else. I know quite a few of you only follow for the fic, so if anyone is interested, I could put together a side blog like that as well that you can follow and get notifications from instead of having to follow this blog and having to go through the probably 100 posts that I make a day 😂 (at least it feels that way for me)

Having a separate blog for the taglist too would allow me to schedule posts so I can have them come out a bit earlier than I get up for those of you across the world who stay up to read and have to wait for me to post in the morning when I get up (or later like today because I slept in). Of course Ao3 will get posted later because I can't schedule posts there, but at least for Tumblr I can have things post earlier.

So let me know what you think about the taglist side blog and the possible just chapters/fics side blog. Feel free to send in asks (anonymously or not) with your opinion. I might not answer them all (not tonight because my brain is fried and honestly i'm not sure if this is even comprehensible English) but I will at least use them to make the decision (or make a post with all of them and answer it as just one).

[codnriddlewhore]

A/N: guys idk how to make thos links someone teach me plsssss and i hope u like this, i decided to post 2 shorter parts instead of 1 long one, felt nicer. next part is gonna be set some years later and itll be maaaybe a tad bit happier. dont hesitate to say anything, good or bad, mwah

wc: 965

She left earlier, of course.

The day after, to be precise. It was a slow and quiet morning. She felt at peace and torn apart at the same time. Can you feel that way? Maybe like someone that felt content with the way they lived their life, though now being stuck in a tornado.

Tom´s wife was sitting on the breakfast table with one leg propped up on the chair, wearing one of his jumpers and a teacup in her hand, smiling to herself and only having kissed him good morning and asked if he wanted tea. It angered him. Of course it did, she was always and every day the biggest chatterbox in the morning, excited about the day. He sometimes joked that it annoyed him. He hoped she realized the joke. He lived off her feeding him her presence. And who smiles like that, does he have a stain on his tie? Did she pack him heart shaped-sandwiches? I mean what else could´ve-

“Why aren´t you getting dressed? We`ve got to leave in-“

He checks his watch.

“exactly 13 minutes. I love you, but I know you wouldn´t make it.

She looks up from her tea, smiling again. He could sense it wasn´t the adorable type, it made his stomach turn. Something was wrong.

Well of course something was wrong Riddle, you´re ignoring the fact that you weren´t able to breath after the argument last night and that, you incontrollable child threw up all over the fucking bathroom you-

“Oh Minerva took the 2nd years to Hogsmeade for the morning, got 3 free periods.”

Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. You never lie to me, you´ve never lied to me- What did I do, please, I´m begging you to go back day before yesterday with me I can´t fucking stand this

Of course he knew what he did, though did it deserve such a reaction? From both of them?

She stands up, gets very close to him and musters a real smile, one that made her eyes really small and showed her gums. It took all of her willpower left to do so. For him, It made his before mentioned train of thought stop.

Okay, of course it´s still her. It´s his wife.

She straightens his wobbly tie, there was no need to do so on other mornings. Another look in his eyes, knowing she´s the probably the only person that will see the truth in them. The fear. The other wobbly thing in the room were his legs when she kissed him, deeply, not hungry, but lovingly and meaningfully.

“Be nice. They´ll love you”

“Pfft, absolutely, don´t they always?”, he didn´t want to make a joke in such a moment but I guess he felt human, wanting to lift the atmosphere.

In the years after, they´d both remember this moment countless of times, she grinning like a child that remembered their last cool birthday party and he as in the objectively worst choice of words he ever made.

It was time, she felt it in the air. She'd die otherwise. Her to-do-list was now fairly simple, though the circumstances added some points.

pack Cry Put music on to distract Sob Pack Unpack Sob Look forward to life Pack Leave her faveorite blanket. He secretly thinks it´s fluffy. He gets cold easily. cry Cry happy tears because how fortunate is she to have spent 3 years with such a magnificent person. Pack Write note Cry but just a tad Breathe. Make tea. Put a lid on his cup so it stays hot. Breathe Smile Leave

Tom came home early. Who fucking cares about the pre-OWLs, he knows there´s the quidditch finale tonight and no one will concentrate. 1st day after Christmas break, whose idea was that.

Was she still in the school? He didn´t see her, though he didn´t particularly go look for her, he knows when to back off. She sometimes “regenerated” in her own space.

He got comfortable in his house and went into the ki- Did he forget his tea this morning? Seems unusual.

a note.

No.

In a pace an Olympic fast-walker would be jealous of, he makes his way to the library and sits down in the old, brown leather chair. His eyeballs hurt from his palms pressing into them, a strategy from the orphanage when he was first mocked for crying, it prevented the tears wonderfully. Tom sat like that for a few minutes, his left leg bouncing up and down and increasing in speed.

No.

Abruptly Tom stands up and walks over to the bookshelf with her little detective novels and big encyclopedias on algae and what not. His shaking hand pulls one out, the title doesn´t matter. He stares at it. He smells it. It doesn´t smell like her, at all. Why would it? It´s just a book. Was she real?

From his mouth comes not a growl, not a scream, what is it? He simply knows he hasn´t made that noise in a very long time and it almost accurately described his emotions. Almost. Nothing ever really will, he believes, though he´ll find a word for word description of his thoughts many years later. The book is now in about 14 pieces, torn apart, unreadable. Something wet runs over his hot cheeks. The knee-part of his grey slacks is ruined by the wet grass. He thought he´d suffocate inside.

Dearest Tommy,

I think I said everything I meant last night, though my devotion to you is hard to word.

You are the most precious, wonderful thing that has happened to me.

I want you to accept yourself.

To see yourself as I do.

You´re too much of a gift to existence and love in general to reduce yourself to a cause.

I love you, my Darling.

There were a few more words in between, but the tear stains made them unreadable. He´d get to reading it at some point. Maybe.

[ginevrapng]

content warnings: non explicit drunken sex between james and lily, dubcon/noncon? (idk it's fucked up the drunk sex went wrong), emotional cheating(?), (i really don't know how to tag this one guys- if i've missed something lmk)

// (1.5k words) // best friend!james potter lives in my head rent free, reader not specified which house they're from but has access to the gryffindor common room, chubby reader

best friend!james is completely in denial of his feelings towards you so he spends his days chasing after lily evans. days become months and then become years, flirting with her daily and chasing her. he is a chaser it's what he does.

you constantly scowled him as it seemed like lily had no interest in him. you didn't want him harassing her. when he started showing interest in her it hurt, you knew why of course, it's hard not to fancy the great james potter but you quickly got over your feelings when you realised you had no chance with him, he was your best friend and nothing was going to spoil that.

what surprised everyone was when lily started to treat james nicer, when she started to smile at him in class. no one could have guessed this complete 360 of her feelings. the next time james came up to her in the great hall bugging her he asked her to be his girlfriend and she actually said yes, causing james to pause in shock for a moment and then start grinning. "knew you'd say yes eventually evans."

lily just rolled her eyes and told him to shut up.

you heard about what happened later on in the day and were shocked yourself. you never thought they would actually start dating, she never seemed like she was interested in james before and previously you spent so long trying to tell him to let it go and find someone else but you're happy that he's happy. he's finally got the girl.

so why does he feel so empty?

their relationship was good, they went on dates and lily always laughed at his jokes, he started to pay attention more in classes they were both in together to impress her and it seemed like lily became less stressed and uptight. they're both happy yet james feels something is wrong. even through he still grins from ear to ear, still has that mischievous attitude you love and his pranking nature, even though he's acting the same, he knows being with lily is wrong, he doesn't even know why but being with lily doesn't feel right.

lily and james have been dating for months now and james has been able to ignore that nagging feeling. one gryffindor party changed everything though.

gryffindor beat hufflepuff in a quidditch match and the house was celebrating, even people from other houses came to support gryffindor's win, however they may have came for the drinks because the gryffindor house always throw the best parties. either way everyone was wasted by the end of the night, some more than others. james being one of those, lily being someone who is nearly equally as drunk, even though she swore she wouldn't drink much as to try and keep an eye on everyone however that plan was shattered when sirius and marlene kept passing her drinks every ten minutes.

lily and james later made their way upstairs to be in private as the night started coming to and end and as soon as the door was shut they started making out and clumsily taking off each others clothes before falling onto the bed together. james placed a kiss on her neck, making her moan and breathily say, "jamie, come on, no playing around."

the only person who ever calls him jamie is you, every single person teases you about it but you never relent. in james' drunken brain his conclusion is that he's kissing you.

james could never ignore your requests and gives 'you' what you want, he tried his best to be slow but he couldn't, he thrusted into 'you', who he thought was you and started babbling. "god, i love you so much." lily wraps her legs around him causing him to groan. he says your name. your name. he says he loves you. lily realises what is happening and thinks maybe she misheard there is no way that james doesn't love her, not after how long he's been trying to woo and pursue her. that is until she heard him say your name again.

lily pushes him off her and she stares at him, james cocks his head in confusion. she's drunk and angry and so very confused so she storms out the room and slams the door loudly before going into her room, flinging herself on the bed and crying until she falls asleep. the morning after is confusing for james, he's hungover and doesn't remember anything from last night but he knows that lily is ignoring him.

he finally is able to get her alone after some help from sirius, by saying that he needed her for something before leaving them alone, and james asks her why she's so upset and mad. she scoffs. "leave me alone potter." james winces at her tone, now they're dating she always calls him james and only calls him potter when she's teasing him. she turns around to leave and james chases after her. "we're done james! don't talk to me! don't even look at me!" she spits out venomously. his blood runs cold as he just nods, he's never heard her speak like that before, he thought that maybe if he gives her some time she might tell him whats wrong and he can fix it.

she swivels round and marches back over to him, james thinking that she may have already calmed down before he saw her face. she points her finger to his chest, "another thing potter, were you ever going to tell me?" she hissed.

"tell you what?" james asks softly, trying not to anger her anymore but that doesn't work, if anything it just made her more pissed off.

"that you love her!" she throws her hands up exasperated and full of negative emotions towards him and towards you too, despite this is not your fault. james furrows his eyebrows, unaware of what she was talking about or who's she referring too.

"you're in love your best friend! when was you going to tell me james, huh? a year from now, ten years from now? on our wedding day?" she screams at him, not caring if anyone heard.

"oh," james replies quietly, his body posture relaxing.

"oh? is that all you've got to say to me?" she shouts at him.

"yeah. basically. i'll- i'll see you around evans. i really am sorry." james tells her, not really knowing what to say to her before he walks off.

lily's blood boils as he reacts so calmly and doesn't try to defend himself in the slightest. he doesn't try to fight for her. he has the gall to walk away from her.

he spends the majority of his day holed up in his room. he wasn't sure what happened last night but he knows it must have been serious. he's now single. even though she never said the words "we're breaking up" or "i'm dumping you" it was worse. lily hates him and he's now confronted with his feelings. can he really stay in denial and pretend he's not in love with you if lily knows, what if she's told the others. what if she's told you?

he rushes down into the common room, nearly tripping and falling on his way down. he has no idea where you'll be and sirius has the marauders map, maybe you'll be in the gryffindor common room hanging with everyone but you also like the library but you also like- "been look for you everywhere, where've you been all day?" he's interrupted by his train of thoughts by you. he lets out a sigh of relief, you're right here and even if lily has told you you're still cheerfully smiling at him. "jamie, you alright?" you looked concerned after noticing he's just staying silent and not moving.

suddenly he pulls you to him and hugs you tightly, making you giggle. "jamie, this is great and all but you're crushing me." he reluctantly lets go of you and takes you in. your comfy warm clothes you're wearing due to the weather that james finds highly annoying because your clothes are so baggy that he can hardly see your body, he wishes he could see your round frame and your cute soft tummy and plush thighs but you always complain about it being too cold. he looks softly at you, your hair is all messy and windswept, chipped nails from when you've been biting them and picking them because of exams coming up and chubby cheeks prominent as you smile, you look beautiful, perfect.

you put your hands on your hips and look cross at him, playfully, not like lily, but like you're not actually cross, it's not in your nature to stay seriously mad at him. "i've got a bone to pick with you." james freezes up, worried that lily's told you. "why the hell is lily ignoring me? sometimes it's like she's shooting daggers at the back of my head."

james chuckles, "ignore her. we broke up earlier on today." you thought he'd be more torn up about it but he's beaming at you.

"i'm so sorry jamie," you tell him earnestly, grabbing his hands in yours and holding them to your chest.

his heart jumps at how much you care for him. "i promise it's fine. i've realised she was never the one for me." you were about to question what he means by that and to ask him to elaborate and if that means he broke up with her but before you can do that you hear the laughs and chatter of the other marauders come in, they heard that lily and james broke up and came to console him, thinking that he'll be away from everyone in his room only to find him in the common room grinning and laughing, when they saw he was with you it made sense.

[peakyswritings]

Learned the lesson || Tommy Shelby x OC

Modern!Tommy Shelby x Nina Ferrante (OC)

Based on THIS

Summary: after not listening to his girlfriend, a sunburn is not the only price Tommy has to pay.

A/N: after making the moodboard, I couldn’t help but write this! This is an independent blurb set in a modern!AU, so you can read it even if you haven’t read the series.

Warnings: English is not my first language, the ending might be crap cause I had accidentally deleted it.

Nina Ferrante is the OC from my series Heart, Body and Soul

“I told you to wear sunscreen.”

Sitting on her bed behind her boyfriend, Nina looked at his reddened shoulders with a disapproving frown on her face. Tommy, being his headstrong self, had refused the sunscreen she had tried so hard to convince him to put on, claiming he had no need for it. He discovered soon enough that the sun could burn even Thomas Shelby himself. And of course now he’d never hear the end of it.

Fed up with yet another ‘I told you so’ on Nina’s part, he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah you were right, now put the goddamn thing on my back.”

Nina raised her eyebrows, stopping with the spray bottle of thermal water in mid-air. Needless to say, she hadn’t liked the impolite response, and sure as hell wouldn’t have let it slide. A mischievous grin grew on her lips, and she planted her free hand on his sunburnt shoulder, drawing a hiss out of him. “You know, you should be nicer, considering I’m the one who’s trying to help you.”

He turned slightly to grab her wrist and take her hand off his aching skin. Despite the clear attempt to hold it in, a laugh threatened to escape her lips. “You find it funny?” He snarled, glaring at her.

“Yes, I find it in fact funny.”

They stubbornly held each other’s gaze for a moment, before Tommy eventually gave up and let go of her wrist. He sighed, fixating his eyes on the wall in front of him. “Please?” He mumbled with a hint of annoyance, making her smile in satisfaction.

Finally, she sprayed the thermal water on his shoulders and back, the coolness giving him a feeling of instant relief. He’d never admit it out loud, but he regretted not having listened to her earlier that day. Now he’d have to go around looking like a fucking lobster. He didn’t know what burned more, whether his skin or his pride.

After she had sprayed some more on his chest and face, Nina got up from the bed and approached one of the bags resting on the desk. She searched inside it for a while, a few Italian curses leaving her lips. “I can’t find it,” she murmured.

“With the mess you have inside that thing, it would be odd if you found something, love.”

She ignored his teasing, keeping on looking inside the bag. But it wasn’t long before she lost her patience and emptied its content on the wooden surface, the noise making Winston jump from his spot on a chair. Tommy shook his head with an amused smile on his face.

“There it is,” she said victoriously, showing him a tube of lotion. “After sun lotion,” she clarified, tossing it back in the now empty bag. “Put it on later.”

“‘Right,” he mumbled, carefully lying down on the cool bedsheets. No use in putting up a fight. His head was starting to ache.

“You know, you might get a sunstroke,” Nina started again, earning herself a grunt of irritation.

“I already said you were right, what else do you want?” He looked at her through half-closed lids.

“Nothing,” she shrugged. “I’m just enjoying my victory.”

Deciding it would be best to just ignore her, Tommy closed his eyes, hoping a few hours of sleep would do the trick and ease the throbbing in his head. Nina, on her part, took mercy on him and stopped with her unrelenting teasing. He had learned his lesson, after all.

But just when he was about to fall asleep, Winston jumped on his stomach, planting his paws on the sensitive, reddened skin.

“Fucking hell.”

Heart, Body and Soul tag list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark

@kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring @goblinjnr @outlanderuniverse

@citylights31 @neonpurplestars89-blog @outlanderuniverse @red-riding-wood @evita-shelby

@look-at-the-soul @gathania93

General tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys

@lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989

@call-sign-shark @ce1iat @red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator

[pikapeppa]

Year-End Writer's Roundup: 2024 edition

It’s that time of year, writer friends: time to take stock of what we’ve been up to this year! Tagging to literally ANY AND ALL WRITERS who would like to participate — seriously, if you write and you see this, please take this as an invitation to fill it out! — but I’ll throw down some tags from the top of my head: @contrivedchaos @iamcayc @midnightacrobat @elveny @johaerys-writes @crackinglamb @alyssalenko @vorchagirl @auntie-coagulant @sweetorangepoptart @himluv @mwasaw @varric-tethras-editor and GENUINELY anyone else who wants to join in!

Words written (published or not, WIPs totally count too!!): 882 674. A decrease compared to previous years, but there is a good reason for this (even though I need to keep reminding myself that it’s a good thing) — more details below.

Smut scenes: 44 — similar to the past few years.

New things I tried:

I wrote a fully-fledged poly ship for the first time with Halsin, Astarion and my Tav, complete with feelings and all! I’ve written sexual-only threesomes/moresomes before, but this is the first time I’ve had there be actual romance as well as sex. 

Significant M/M sexy time, including anal sex. I probably won’t write anal sex again for personal reasons, but I’m glad I dabbled at least.

I wrote something that I do not intend to post publicly, purely just for me. More on this later.

Fic I spent the most time on: 

My Astarion/Tav fic, just based on sheer number of words alone.

Fic I spent the least time on:

My Zoro/Reader fic, Relentless. These three chapters came together (HUEHUE) so quickly based on the sheer force of Zoro thirst. NOTHING LIKE THAT THREE-SWORD STYLE TO GET US WANTING HIS FOURTH SWORD 🤣

Favourite thing I wrote: 

This is tough this year aaaaaaaa. The Teia/Viago fic was one that I’d been wanting to write since 2020, and I’m grateful to the Veilguard hype for resparking that flame and making it happen. I LOVED writing all of my Halsin smut because Halsin just makes me SO CRAZY (I genuinely think he might be the one singular videogame boyfriend I’ve felt the most feral about). My Rolan/Tav fic felt like it was born from a very bright spark of inspiration, and I had a fun few weeks just blasting through writing that. 

But my #1 fave thing to write might have been the One Piece Sanji/OC fic that I am not planning to publish. Not publishing means there’s been no pressure to “make it good” or to figure out every detail of timelines/lore/OC backstory etc, so I can just do whatever I want. And that freedom to just make the fic mine, for me, has been really valuable this year. 

Favourite thing I read: 

Oh fuck, I read basically nothing this year HAHAHA. But I did read this one Sanji/Nico Robin smutfic that I REALLY loved. And I absolutely devoured a novel by one of my fave authors (Grown Ups by Marian Keyes) during our mini-vacay to Florida in February.

Writing goals for next year: 

My only goal for the coming year is this: to write only what I really WANT to write.

This probably sounds obvious, but it’s a whole thing that’s tied up with expectations of myself and self-worth and blah blah blah, so the rest of this post will be a bit of a personal essay that you can feel free to pass on HAHA.

I started therapy last year, and I’m in the part of my “therapy journey” now where one of the things I’m working through is the fact that I hold unhealthily high expectations of myself in basically every realm of my life. I force myself to suppress/compartmentalize/ignore my own feelings because I prioritize other people’s feelings over my own, and I spend a lot of my time focusing on things that I think I “should” be doing, at the expense of my own comfort levels/needs/physical or mental health etc. (ELDEST SISTER SYNDROME ANYONE?) And unfortunately, over the years, this way of operating has insidiously snuck its way into my writing.

When I first started writing fanfic in 2017, the writing was entirely born from an overwhelming desire to just get out this story in my head and make it a reality. I started writing for no other reason than because I wanted to. But as time went on and I gained a lovely following of readers, I started prioritizing my readers’ desires over my own. In particular, I’ve gotten too caught up by the idea of being That Writer™ who posts frequently and who finishes her fics: two qualities that I have often been praised for. This led to a habit of sticking to very strict schedules of always posting at least one chapter of something every single week — and if I was working on more than one fic, I would pressure myself to post a chapter of each fic every week. I would pressure myself to do this even when my back pain and migraines started flaring up in 2020, because I did not want to disappoint my readers.

To be clear: all of this was pressure coming from myself. Nobody was telling me I need to post every week or that I need to finish everything I write; I was the one holding myself to these insane standards. But for years, I’ve been able to meet these standards, and it hasn’t been a problem — or so I thought.

Then this year happened. Therapy stuff happened and health stuff got worse, and for the first time ever, I started having days where I just could not make myself write. I would sit at the computer for hours, unable to conjure any words. For some of my fics, this meant weeks or even months between updates. Sometimes when the words finally came, the writing felt like a struggle or a chore rather than an act of love, because I was doing something that I felt like I had to do rather than something I really wanted.

This has been absolute fucking torture for me. I felt so shitty about myself for not being able to do the one thing that I legitimately love doing the most in the world. This was especially distressing because I have given writing advice before stating that when you’re writing a long fic, you sometimes have to write shit you don’t want to write before you can get to the good stuff. And the fact that I’m struggling to do this now has left me feeling like a hypocrite and a failure for not being able to follow my own advice. 

To make things worse, some of the fandoms I’ve been writing for have been… unresponsive. The ratio of hits to actual comments has been pretty abysmal. The lack of engagement and encouragement just added onto the feelings of shittiness and inadequacy, as though I was failing to meet readers’ expectations somehow, and I can’t lie: it was part of why I stopped writing for one fandom this year, and I’ve never felt so bitter about finishing any fics as I did with a couple of the fics I wrapped up this year.

With time, a lot of tears and self-castigation, and ongoing therapy sessions, I’ve slowwwwwly realized that I am being unkind to myself by holding myself to such high expectations, and that I need to actively combat these expectations by refocusing on writing things that I want to write rather than worrying about disappointing my readers. I’m also working on writing only when I want to and when I feel good, i.e. not forcing myself to write when my head is throbbing or when I’m in too much pain to sit in my office chair. 

To this end, I have been writing some One Piece fic that I have no plans to post publicly: fic that is entirely self-indulgent fun. And it’s actually been the best exercise in returning to the hedonistic selfish joy of writing what I want, which is why I started doing this in the first place. Moving forward, I’m going to keep working on writing for myself first and foremost. I’ll strive to write what only what really sparks joy for me, and if that means my word count keep dropping year after year, I will try to remind myself that this is a good and healthy thing, since any words that I write should be a gift to myself first and foremost. 

[mooonjin]

Imagination

Notes: im not doing kinktober this year UNFORTUNATELY since im still a bit new but i do have a tech smut for ocotober :3

Pairing: Tech x gn!reader

Summary: Repairing the Marauder takes time and focus. Even once Tech has free time to himself, you are his only distraction.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ work!! minors shoo flyyyyy -  kinda sub!Tech, m masturbation, explicit thoughts ⁠— tell me if I've missed anything!

Part Two >

Tech wiped the sweat on his forehead. Repairing the Marauders haul manually took longer than he anticipated. He already had to charge Gonky six times so the droid would keep up.

"You can repair the ship later, Tech," you playfully teased, leaning against Gonky while eyeing Tech's focused face. He didn't spare a single glance, the ship being his main priority.

"Leaving Saleucami with the shuttle at such a state would not be smart," he began, eyes still glued onto his handiwork, "I highly recommend I complete the repairs."

You sighed, grinning disappointedly. Tech was always a hard worker and often over worked himself. Most of the time you couldn't tell how big his eye bags has gotten under those goggles, Tech insisting he kept them on because of the work on his trinkets.

"Go, you can greet Cut and Suu for me." You could hardly hear what Tech said, his head neck deep into the shuttles hull, a few beeps on his data pad echoing.

"If you say so." You patted the dusty surface of Gonky and mumbled your goodbye to Tech as you went to fetch the others inside the ship.

Tech pulled the stool he sat on closer to the ship, most likely to get a better look inside. He overheard the booming volume of Wreckers voice and Omegas laughs. It wasn't annoying, per se, he would rather it'd be silent.

He wiped his forehead again, his eyes darting up at the sight of you leaving the shuttle with the other Batchers behind you. Omega waved at Tech, who responded with a courteous head bow.

"Comm us if you need anything." Hunter commented. He signaled the others that they were leaving to go on the walk to Cut and Suu's, leaving Tech behind to repair.

You spared a second glance back at him, making sure he was okay staying behind. Embarrassingly enough, you caught Tech looking at you before rapidly turning his head around to play it off. You chuckled at the trooper, always so observant yet he gets so flustered when someone observes him back.

Tech coughed, coming back to reality and regaining focus on the ship. He didn't expect you to look back at him so he was more than flustered and had trouble with his concentration.

-

"Change of plans, Tech, we'll be going into town on a supply run." Your modulated voice came through Tech's wrist, almost startling him and hitting his head.

"If you don't mind purchasing extra durasteel? About 25 kilograms is sufficient." You smiled at how specific Tech was when they went on the usual supply run. He wouldn't normally speak, already going on is own to hunt down any materials for his or anyone's personal use.

Your modulated voice came back, sending Tech into a blushing fit. It was a short 'yes' before you signed off, assuming you told the others that they needed extra durasteel. Your voice gave him goosebumps, but the good goosebumps. Was it his attraction to you?

No, it couldn't be. Feelings were just the minds way of manipulating itself to feel wanted and appreciated. Tech's a soldier, bred and born for war, nothing else. He harshly shoved these thoughts to the back of his mind, replacing them with the job of repairing the shuttle.

As you were walking down the dusty town of Saleucami, you eagerly pointed towards different shops and stalls that Omega had never seen before. She was particularly interested in the ones with big, glowing neon signs.

"I can see the shops, why do they need those?" She hastily asked, her voice pitching up at the end of her question.

You chuckled, "They're to catch your eyes, some people ignore shops they're not interested in and something so big and bright around the dull space can draw you in."

Omega created an 'O' shape with her mouth, understanding the usage. The both of you quickly caught up to Hunter, who was currently paying for the extra durasteel Tech needed for the ship. You showed Omega around the stall, the little toys of droids and aliens grabbing her attention.

"That's an astromech plush, you might've seen a couple on Kamino."

"It might not be a neon sign, but this definitely caught my eye," Omega's eyes brightened, excited that she found something she really liked and wanted to keep, "Can we get it?"

"Go ask Hunter before he buys the rest of the stuff, and don't forget the puppy eyes!" You laughed with her as she jogged off the the cashier's desk to convince Hunter about the toys purchase.

Tech completed suitable repairs on the Marauders hull, all he needed was the durasteel to cover the interior engines of the ship. He grabbed his tools and put the most important ones on his belt and the others inside the toolbox that sat on top of Gonky.

Guiding the droid inside first, he switched on his charging port and let him recharge, quietly thanking Gonky's assistance. Tech checked up on the Batchers' location, surprised to see that they were still deep in the town for their supply run.

Surprisingly, Tech had nothing to work on. There were no trinkets the boys had brought back for him to analyse or to dig into to uncover some interesting information. He hadn't put aside anything to work on in his spare time.

He genuinely had no clue what to do. Gonky was charging so he couldn't divert power to a storage unit on the shuttle, he couldn't clean his blasters, having already done that before even landing the ship.

His mind was empty.

Well, almost empty.

He still couldn't get your voice out of his head. Your modulated voice. Especially only yours through his wrist comm. It's like his comm channel was made for you. At this point, he was blushing profusely, swinging his arms like a little cadet boy back on Kamino.

Now, his head was far from empty. His imagination running wilder than it could've gone. He didn't know it would even reach this point.

Probably a bit too wild.

He'd wonder how you'd sound under his helmet. Your modulated voice coming from one of his prized possessions. How you'd sound if you were writhing underneath him as he watched your eyes underneath his helmet. How you'd sound if he ruthlessly pounded you—

This is inappropriate, he thought. You're a member of the Batch and really good friend of his, should he really be thinking about in such a way? As he looked down in shame, he was met with the consequences of his dirty thoughts, his codpiece protruding a bit more than it should of.

Now he can't un-think this. It's human psychology, a thought or a situation has been birthed abruptly and told to forget it, well, that's difficult. You would have to do something in order to rid of it.

Even he rambles in his own head. He would have to do something to rid of it. Rid of his erection? That's both inappropriate and almost irresistible. Tech sighed, giving into his intrusive thought before walking towards the door panel to close the shuttles ramp.

He double-checked on his datapad that nobody could open the ramp manually outside, just so no one would walk in on him unexpected. He walked to the back of the shuttle, sitting down on his partially messy bunk. In several swift movements, he discarded his armoured pieces, tossing the larger ones to the ground.

Tech was now left in his blacks, his tent more obvious without the crotch piece. He dug his gloved fingers into the hem of his blacks to pull off the trouser piece along with his boxers. He tossed those to the end of his bunk, his hard cock resting against his lower abdomen.

He tested the waters, not having done this in such a long time. Tech wrapped his hand around his cock, sliding gently up and down and around the tip. He sighed, satisfied but not satisfied enough. He desperately removed his gloves and the wrist comms, tossing them to the foot of his bunk.

What he didn't know before continuing was his comm and landed on an odd angle. 

The button pressed up against his mattress had activated your channel.

-

Post-Notes: do u want a part two? HEHHE hope ya liked this ^^

~ ~ ~

@elsastoes @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @imalovernotahater @backyard-bear @namesmox

my taglist form!

[captainmalewriter]

Hi, I was in my way from work to home on Friday on Katowice (Poland) underground bus station, when I found Yellow with Green Ring capsule on the pavement. I took it and put into my bag's pocket. I will open it in the evening, when I will have a bit of free time before my computer's monitor. What will happen?

Congratulations, you found my missing yellow with a green ring capsule! Here's what happened when you found it...

You held onto the safety rail as the underground metro barreled down the railroad. As you waited to get home, you felt around your bag where you had stored a yellow prize capsule. You had found it back at the station just sitting around on the pavement. You decided to take it for yourself. You thought about opening it right then and there, but decided to hold off until you got home and open it there. You rubbed your finger against its sleek surface, your finger gliding across like butter due to how smooth it was. 

Open…

Your ears perked up. You thought you heard a whisper but weren’t too sure.

Open the capsule…

You heard it again. It was a scratchy, low-pitched voice. Your eyes darted around the bus car, trying to find whose voice that was, but you couldn’t find anyone suspicious. On top of that, nobody else seemed to notice the strange ominous voice. It was telling you to open the capsule. It was a simple command, and for a moment, you were actually considering listening…

But then the bus conductor announced the next stop, which was also your stop. You shook off the weird feeling, slipped the capsule back into your bag, and went about your way.  You got off the bus and made your way back home. You made yourself comfortable, then sat at your computer desk with the prize capsule in hand. No matter how much you looked at it, it seemed like an ordinary capsule! Yet at the same time, something felt undeniably wrong about it. You noticed it ever since you first laid eyes on it. It was as if the capsule itself possessed some sort of malicious energy…

You found a label tag on it. Before opening it, you decided to do some internet searching first just to make sure it was safe.

Open the capsule…!

You heard the sinister voice again. It sent a shiver down your spine, but forced yourself to ignore it. 

OPEN! THE! CAPSULE! OPEN IT NOW!!

The voice got louder and louder. It was as if the voice was inside your head… It was driving you crazy! You couldn’t take it anymore! In frustration, you slammed your hands on your keyboard, grabbed the capsule, and tore it open without a second thought. You were breathing heavily as you held the now broken capsule in your hand. However, there was nothing resembling a toy or a prize in your hand. All you were holding were plastic shards.

“Man! This is bullshit!” You shouted as you threw the broken capsule across the room. You didn’t care that you’d have to clean it later; you were just so mad that the same thing that was driving you insane turned out to be nothing but a piece of cheap plastic. 

You huffed out a breath as you calmed down. Now that that mystery was over, you decided to spend the rest of the night playing video games on your PC. You took out a game controller out of your desk drawer as your favorite MMO loaded up. You then looked up and gasped loudly as you saw a horrific sight on your computer screen: the skeleton of your face. 

“What the fuck!! Who the fuck is that!?”

You screamed out in terror as you made eye contact with the face on the screen. Your reflection was nowhere to be seen on the computer monitor. Instead, it was the reflection of some random stranger with an exposed, skeletal face. You felt unnerved as you looked at him… Every movement you made, the man copied you, acting as if he was your reflection.

“Wh-what’s going on…” you shuddered. “That’s not my face, who are you!!”

You shouted at the skeleton man. He only grinned in response, and when he did, the same cocky grin began to form on your face. You tried to stop it but it was no use, you were forced to smirk against your will.

“Heh, I’m the soul you just freed from that tiny prison,” the man said. Hearing his voice, it hit you that he was the one you were hearing earlier! But even more unsettling, your mouth began moving to match whatever he was saying. Now you were his reflection.

He noticed the uneasiness in your eyes and chuckled. He was clearly enjoying how much power he had over your body despite being just a face on a computer screen.

“You asked me who I am,” he started. “Well, to be honest, it doesn’t matter who I am. I’m about to be you.”

The man leaned in closer to the screen. When he made contact against the edge, he began to bleed out of your computer monitor as he physically manifested right in front of you. You opened your mouth to scream, not knowing how big of a mistake that was. 

As your mouth hung open, the soul made a beeline straight for your mouth. You gasped as you felt your entire body getting filled with a ghostly presence. The soul didn’t hold back in taking your body over as its new vessel. It entered you through the mouth and nose, causing you to float up slightly as you got possessed. With one final gulp, you swallowed the last few ounces of his soul into your body. Warm sensations flooded your senses as you felt your consciousness fade away into the background of your mind, leaving the driver’s seat open for the soul to take over. You knew you were finished when you felt an unwanted smile creep up on your face again; the same arrogant grin you saw on the computer screen a few minutes ago. With the possession complete, he was in total control and you were nothing more than a passenger inside your own body. 

You watched from the crevices of your mind as your body began to move around on its own. Despite having no control anymore, you could still feel as the soul possessing you touched and rubbed your now shared body. The hair on your arms felt familiar yet foreign due to the ghostly presence controlling you. 

Fuck yeah! It feels so good to have flesh again!

You could hear the soul’s inner thoughts as he flexed your arms. You then noticed a feeling of disappointment growing. 

Not good enough. If this is going to be my new body, then it’s gotta be just right! Don’t you agree bro!?

Under the soul’s command, you began flexing your entire body as hard as you possibly could. As you did so, your muscles began exploding with newfound strength and power. Your body was quickly becoming stronger! Your body didn’t take on any extra muscle mass, but the mass you already had rapidly became toned and well-defined. The hair on your head grew out until you had a flowing mane and stubble a man could wear with pride. Even your cock grew until you had an obscene bulge in your pants, a testament of the heavy hitter your body now possessed between your legs. The soul that had possessed you had completely remade you in its image! 

And although you were powerless to do anything, you soon learned to love the new arrangement you found yourself in. Everything the soul did in your body was way more fun than if you did it by yourself, including and especially sex. You were having the time of your life being nothing more than a vessel for a soul to have fun with. Soon enough, you were sporting the same arrogance the soul had. Perhaps the soul had even managed to transform your soul during the possession? Who’s to say! But who cares, all that matters now is whatever adventure the soul possessing you was about to embark on next.

Hope you enjoy the new body prize you won from finding my lost capsule!

[mazeinthemiroh]

you need a holiday. [part 1]

pairing: hongjoong x best friend! reader

genre: friends to lovers, slow burn / slow romance, slight angst, and, of course, a sprinkle of crack

word count: 1.6k

warnings: cursing, allusions to mental health issues + insomnia

summary: hongjoong feels like he is just going through the motions in his life. the spark has gone. but you have the perfect solution that will solve all his problems... [part 2, part 3]

author's notes: to get in the summer holiday spirit, i present to you part 1 of this hongjoong holiday series. we all deserve a rest every now and then, and time off is just what you need to get back on track. stay tuned for part 2 which will be published shortly! let me know if you want to be tagged in the next one <3

Hongjoong felt all his days blended into one. He was, quite truly, going through the motions. Sometimes he woke up not knowing what to do. Not feeling like he had a purpose. Which, of course, was not the case. He was a captain, a producer of fine music, a rapper, a dancer, a writer. His work was his life and people relied on him for things only he could accomplish. So he had a purpose. Of course, he did.

But things started to feel vacuous. They held no meaning. 'What was the point of it all?' He would think to himself as he stared at the keyboard in front of him, sitting by himself in the studio in the early hours of the morning yet again. Alone. Very much alone.

He needed something else. Something. Just a little kick up the ass, a slap in the face to give him the wake-up call he needed. He wanted someone to say 'You've got it good, you ungrateful bastard. Money, fame, charm. You've got it all, so stop whining about such trivial things and get back to work.' He needed to hear those words.

So he picked up the phone one night, another night in the studio, and his thumbs lingered over the screen before deciding to search for a name. Your name.

'Let's meet up for coffee tomorrow. If you're free, that is.'

He couldn't tell if his text sounded abrupt and rude due to his sleep-deprived mind waning slowly away. He knew you might not be up at the same time he was so he decide to wait until morning.

And a couple of hours later, he was fighting the urge to settle and sleep for the hours he deserved, instead getting ready for work. He shoved himself into the shower and 'cleaned the tiredness away', as he liked to put it. Because apparently, according to the wise Kim Hongjoong himself, a shower could cure you of most things, especially sleep deprivation.

So he went to work, going about his business, knowing that he would see you for a coffee break at around lunchtime. You had replied to him in the late hours of the morning, ignoring the fact that he had texted you at 3 am. It was typical Hongjoong behaviour and you knew him all too well to question the time in which he was up.

Lunchtime came around and there you were together, opposite each other as you tucked into the delicious sandwiches before you.

"So, how have you been?" Your voice was light, but you had your suspicions on your friend, who never usually made plans so out-of-the-blue, instead preferring a week in advance to prepare himself, ideally. That's why you were so surprised to have read his message.

"Me?" Hongjoong asked as if you were talking to anyone else in the café, which obviously you were not, "I've been good."

'This is not why you invited them out' Hongjoong's mind scolded him. 'There's a reason why you're here with them. Speak.'

Hongjoong let out a sigh, knowing that he was right. He needed to just... express himself.

"Well actually..." Hongjoong winced at the upcoming awkwardness, as if trying to brace himself for having to open up to you. He hated burdening people with his problems. A burden is truly what they felt like when expressed and left hanging in the air like that, all exposed and vulnerable. A person's problems could change your perception about someone, which Hongjoong never liked risking because his reputation was important.

But you were his friend. And if you ever confided in him about something, he would embrace your openness with a kind heart. Why did he think you wouldn't do the same?

So, taking a deep breath, he tried his best.

"I've been struggling, to be honest."

Already he could feel a lump form in his throat. That felt like a massive confession in itself, when it really, in hindsight, was just a simple statement. Everyone struggles, sure. But saying it out loud and solidifying these feelings verbally felt intense.

You nodded, already understanding where he was coming from. He looked tired. Not only because of the dark circles under his eyes and the occasional yawn that rose in between sentences. But also, in his eyes, the casual and chipper sparkle that he always held had dwindled tremendously. He was still as handsome as always, but his spark had gone. And that very concept exhausted him more than any lack of sleep could.

"You need a holiday," you decided aloud. It felt like more of a command than a suggestion. But after you had heard all of Hongjoong's worries and concerns and rants about anything and everything, you confirm that it was the only right thing to say.

He looked at you in bewilderment. In utter fascination.

"No, that's not what you should be saying," Hongjoong shook his head, "you should be telling me to get a grip and stop moping about."

You laughed at his reasoning, but he looked dead serious, biting the inside of his cheek impatiently.

"What good will that do?" You hummed, not waiting for an answer, "You're allowed to feel this way, Joong. And you're allowed a holiday too."

"Okay, if I went on holiday every time I had a problem, I wouldn't be at work at all. I'm not like you, I can't just run when things get tough," he snapped, one hand turning into a fist, before unclenching. He realised he sounded very harsh there and his eyes grew wide.

"I..." he swallowed harshly. "I'm sorry. That was over the line."

"No, no," you shook your head, trying hard not to take offence at his harsh words. You knew he was stressed. "You're right. I don't have the same circumstances as you. But I don't run away when things get tough. I just allow myself to get away, just for a little bit, every now and then. A slice of fantasy before going back to reality. Everyone needs a holiday. Everyone needs to get away from the mundane routine of their lives. So when you do have some time off, why not embrace it?"

Hongjoong stared at his now empty plate, still feeling guilty about being hurtful with his words. What had gotten into him? He sighed and sank back in the chair.

You watched him for a moment, before continuing:

"You want me to be serious and honest with you? Fine. You will destroy yourself if you don't give yourself a break. A little rest, Hongjoong, you owe yourself at least that. And if your life is not full of joy like it used to be in, despite having your dream job and dream life, a little break will do you good. Otherwise, you will drive yourself crazy," you shrugged, a frown on your face to match his, "which you're in the process of doing now."

Hongjoong looked up. It wasn't the sternness he was expecting, but it did make sense. He licked his dry lips and fixed his hunched posture.

When he didn't say anything you said your last bit.

"I am going away to Spain for 5 days in about a fortnight," you placed the cutlery delicately on the plate, "just 5 days, that's all. You're more than welcome to join me, if you feel it's worth your while. Because, trust me, it will be."

On getting up, you had slipped your jacket on elegantly as he watched you, eyes glazed over with deep thought. You pushed him out of his daze by placing a kiss on his cheek, something you wouldn't usually do. He blinked and looked over at you curiously.

"See you, Joong. Thanks for lunch. And I hope to see you soon."

"Y/N thinks I need a holiday."

Hongjoong didn't know why he was confiding in yet another person today. But here he was, talking to Seonghwa about the conversation you had with him earlier that day.

They were both standing in the kitchen, Hongjoong unmoving whilst Seonghwa worked around him, making himself a late dinner.

"Of course you need a holiday," Seonghwa said without looking at Hongjoong as he reached for the top shelf, moving around his standing friend who gazed at him, baffled.

"You think I need a holiday too?" Hongjoong was perplexed, clearly not seeing what everyone else was.

"We all need a holiday," Seonghwa looked at him now with a playful smile, before sinking into seriousness, "but you need it just a little bit more than the rest of us."

Hongjoong pursed his lips and sighed, shaking his head.

"You work so hard for all of us. 5 days is nothing, Joong. We can cope without you for 5 days!" Seonghwa tried to convince his friend.

"Oh is Hongjoong leaving? That means I get to be captain, right?" Wooyoung butted in, reaching over Seonghwa in an awkward position just to ram his mouth full of the already opened popcorn left on the counter.

"You wish. I'll be in charge when Hongjoong is gone, obviously," Seonghwa rolled his eyes and gently shooed Wooyoung away, who shrugged and disappeared without another word.

"Good to know I'll be missed," Hongjoong snorted as his gaze followed the disappearing Wooyoung.

"You won't be missed," Seonghwa stated, "because we would all have peace of mind knowing that you were finally relaxing for once. Or, at least, I will."

Seonghwa always knew what to say, and Hongjoong couldn't help but feel a little better about entertaining the idea of going on holiday with you.

But that doesn't mean he had been fully convinced.

"I'll think about it," Hongjoong nodded, before making his way back to his room.

He wasn't convinced. Not yet.

taglist: @a-wandering-stay, @xlovehwa, @yeosangsbiceps, @anyamaris, @acciocriativity, @hawaiian-angel, @toolovelyforyou, @honeysugarbby, @dutchessskarma, @saltedplum-squid (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

[lavendermoonlitskies]

Good Omens fanfic group (“book club”) interest check!

Hi everyone!

So it’s been a very long time since I’ve updated anyone on this idea (which @thinkinginscripts came up with originally), but among things I’ve tried and failed at in terms of starting this up, I think what I’ve settled on is the best way to go about it for now (but ofc that can always change later on if we find a better method). Tumblr has a “communities” feature that’s basically just another dashboard but specifically for the topic at hand that only those added can see (sort of like a Facebook Group).

I’ve had a lot going on in my life that makes it hard for me to handle too much responsibility and I don’t want to pressure anyone to help me organize/moderate this, so the whole discord thing is out for now just because it seems a little too complicated to organize discussion via video calls on a regular basis. In the meantime, I thought that since there seemed to be a lot of interest in this idea it might be easiest to use Tumblr Communities, so here’s my idea with that:

I had already started a spreadsheet of fics that could be discussed, so what I’m thinking is I could make a post for each week or every other or something like that (maybe even just once a month, the idea is just a semi-regular basis with enough time to actually read these works), with the fanfic to discuss and then in the comment section of that post you guys could interact with each other to talk about it. In addition to that, maybe I could also post some polls so we as a group can kind of decide which ones we want to discuss for next time. I do have this spreadsheet but it’s not very long so I’d also love to know when you guys have fics in mind that you want to talk about!

I took note of some of the people who commented on that one post about this from a couple months ago, so I’m just gonna tag some of you here so you can see this post. Absolutely no pressure to respond in any way so please feel free to ignore if you’re no longer interested, it’s totally fine either way! I just wanted to let y’all know where I’m at with this: @itchiefeet @knifeforkspooncup @alwaysbemybae @nakathemoth @sixshotsinatumbllr @aceintrovert @bakingcat @unreliably-informed

And if anyone else seeing this is interested feel free to lmk ☺️

[anyamaris]

Winter Blooms

Word Count-3136

Pairing- Wooyoung x F!Reader

Trope-Neighbors to lovers au, fluff

Summary-Your relationship with your vacation home neighbor has been blooming over time, and perhaps there could be something much more than friendship growing between you.

Warnings-Mild adult language, mentions of food/cooking.

A/N-This is my submission for our CODN secret santa event and I am @daesukiii 's secret santa! -I hope you enjoy this and happy holidays! It was fun to write this, and I hope it's not too cheesy.

Tags-@ksmutsociety @cultofdionysusnet @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark @millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions@changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @millennial-fangirl @starillusion13 @duchesskaren @minki-moo

@cafekitsune Thank you for banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍

The first time you’d met, the sun had been high in the sky, and you’d been coming back from a trip to the store.  

You’ve been coming to your family's summer home since you were young, and as an adult it was the perfect place to escape.  Becoming an adult, dealing with college, then the mundane yet stressful life of your day job made this place like a small slice of heaven.

You’d rarely paid much attention to the other cottage down the lane, besides watching the people come and go through your youth.  The couple that periodically passed by eventually stopped showing up, then you’d heard that someone else had purchased the place.

It was in between semesters that you’d escaped from the constant pressure of life to come to the summer home.  Mid winter, the lake frozen over, there was a serenity that you’d never experienced during the sunny vacations you’d taken with your parents as a child.  

That was when you’d met Wooyoung.  

His young, boisterous demeanor greatly opposed your more quiet, timid attitude when it came to socializing.  He’d immediately waved as you drove past, and you couldn’t help but smile at how friendly he was despite being calf deep in snow while he shoveled his drive.  

Of course, you also couldn’t ignore the handsome face rosy with the cold under his knit hat.  When he’d knocked later that day to introduce himself, he was even more attractive up close.  

“Hello neighbor!  My name is Wooyoung, I wanted to stop by and say hello.  Do you come here often? I just moved in last year.” You couldn’t help but give him a soft smile as he held out his hand, introducing yourself in kind as you tried to cover a laugh.

“I..normally come in the summer.” Is all you offer and he just nods, sniffing from the frigid air as he adjusted his coat. 

“Well, it gets cold around here, so if you need anything, feel free to come ask!” He had said, giving you a dramatic wave as he jogged back down the road to his place.  

Despite the trip lasting only a mere four days, his presence was a constant comfort to you.  When you awoke the following morning, you’d been shocked to find him shoveling your drive as well, waving yet again when he spotted you before he disappeared back down the road when he finished.  

Normally, you keep to yourself when you are here, writing in your journal or busying yourself with drawing the winter landscape outside your large picture window in the front room.  

Memories of warm summer sunsets drawing the lake always made you smile, and curling up in some warm blankets with a mug of steamy hot chocolate made this experience cathartic.  The stresses of adulting were falling away like layers of dead skin, allowing you to feel cleansed of worry for the moment.  

So when summer came around again, you’d made another trip on your own.  Thoughts of a quiet, peaceful week danced in your mind as you drove to your cottage, and once more you caught sight of Wooyoung as you passed by.  

This time he was sweaty and dirty, but still smiling happily as he waved to you.  “Welcome back!” he called out as you drove by, and you couldn’t help but give him a small smile and a wave in return.  

His unexpected visit later also brought a smile to your face, as he walked down your drive holding a basket of something.  

“Hello!” He called out, beaming that bright smile of his.  “I brought you some vegetables from my garden.” He explained as he offered you the basket, catching you off guard.  

“Oh…thank you…” you had murmured, not knowing what else to say to your seemingly kind neighbor.  “I..don’t really have anything to offer you back…” 

He’d just waved his hand, laughing loudly at your comment.  “No need, I have plenty!  I really enjoy gardening so I thought I’d just share with you.  Feel free to come get more if you need anything!”  

Blushing at his thoughtfulness, you merely nodded, thanking him again before he had wandered back off to his own place.

And this is how it had gone, between semesters and on breaks, you’d made your way to your little piece of heaven to relax.  Time and time again, Wooyoung had stopped by, always dropping something off, never staying too long.  

You’d see him on your walks during the nicer seasons, always returning his happy waves as his face would light up at seeing you.  

He’d always nod and call to you when you were on your porch relaxing.  

In the colder seasons, he always stopped by to check to see if you needed anything, and your drive was always cleared out.  

He seemed to understand that you weren’t prone to talking much, but he always made a special effort with you that never crossed a line into pushing.  

Somewhere in that period between visiting during breaks at school, then moving into the working world, you slowly found yourself looking forward to his visits.  

Finding yourself smiling as he would appear and wave, giving you that bright, sunny smile of his.  You’d spend more time going for walks, or sitting on your porch, drawing or writing, peeking down the road every so often in the hopes to see him strolling over to say hello.

So finally, one summer evening when the sun was setting on one of your random visits, when he’d come walking over, you closed your journal, standing with a warm smile.  

“Wooyoung, it’s nice to see you.” You told him, as he’d bounced up the stairs to greet you happily.  

“It’s been awhile!” He exclaims, glancing at the journal you set beside you curiously.

“How’s your garden?” You had asked him and he began to tell you all about the vegetables and flowers he’d been growing.

“Do you have a favorite flower?” he’d asked.

“Hmm…I love alstroemeria, actually.” You told him and he beamed excitedly.  “Snapdragons also, they are very pretty.”

“I’ll have to check them out and see if I can add them to my garden!” 

“Well, only if they are something you like as well.  What else are you growing?” You’d asked.

Before you knew it, the sun had been setting and you blinked at how long you’d likely kept the poor man in conversation.  

You found yourself opening up to him the more you spoke, and sharing things about yourself.  

“You like to cook as well? And bake?!” He exclaimed, clapping his hands together in delight.  “I’ll make sure I keep bringing you veggies then, you just let me know what you like!” 

Laughing at his exuberance, you couldn’t help but nod.  “Well in that case…” you proceeded to give him a grocery list of things you cooked with.  

“Under one condition,” He says, winking at you. “One day, you’ll have to let me try something you make!”

Blushing at his request, you just nodded.  “One day, I promise.”  

“Deal!” He’d said excitedly.  

Throughout that visit, he’d made his way over more and more, exchanging polite talk and you found yourself looking forward to seeing him.  You’d even find yourself venturing out on walks just to stop and chat with him about his garden, the weather, even going so far as to tell him what you did for work.  

You were slowly developing what you thought might become a friendship with your handsome neighbor, and you had even started thinking about what to  make to bring him on your next walk.

Unfortunately, that visit had gotten cut short, and you hadn’t been able to fulfill that request because of it.  Work had gotten busy, and then the holidays were upon you.  

Christmas had never been your favorite time of year, and you couldn’t wait for it to be over. 

So once the 25th had come and gone, family dispersing to go back to their everyday lives, you’d packed your bags and headed off once more to the small cottage to get away.  

Driving by Wooyoung’s house, you can’t help but slow down, peeking to see if he was outside doing something.  

It was strange how you’ve come to look forward to seeing the bubbly, handsome man now when you come out here.  

Without realizing it, he had started to become one of the many reasons you looked forward to coming on your excursions to the cottage these days.

Though he wasn’t out when you passed by, you tell yourself that he will likely make his way over at some point.  He always did without fail, and as you go about checking over the cottage, you find yourself peering out the window in expectation.

And there he is, you think to yourself, unconsciously smoothing your hair and giving yourself a once over.  

His dark hair is covered by his tattered knit hat, his breath visible from the cold as he makes his way up your drive.  When he sees you through the window, his face lights up as he waves happily to you.  

You can’t help but giggle a bit as he loses his footing and almost falls, his embarrassed smile as he rights himself warming your cheeks.  

“You didn’t see that!” He calls out as you open the door.  

“Didn’t see you almost fall on your-” you start to tease.

“HEY! No, I am extremely agile and balanced; Fall? Me? Pah!” He returns and you just shake your head at him.  

“Sure, whatever you say.” Suppressing your laughter, you greet him as he kicks the snow off his boots.  

“”I saved you some of the herbs I dried from the summer.” He says, pulling out a few jars to offer you.

“Oh, wow…thank you!” You say, eyeing him as he sniffles a bit, covering his mouth to cough softly.  

“Are you catching a cold?” You ask him, worry marring your features.  “Come inside and have something warm to drink.”

“It’s likely just a cold, but no, I won’t stay long just in case.  I can’t have you getting sick.” He shakes his head, holding his gloved hands up.  

“Well…if you need anything, I can always run to the store to get you medicine or-” You start to offer but he cuts you off.

“Don’t worry about me, I have some medicine for times like this.  I’ll just go home and get some rest.  Maybe I’ll be able to stop by again once this passes.” He says, his eyes almost hopeful as he studies yours.  

“I’d like that, but don’t push yourself.” You tell him, feeling your cheeks heat at the thought.  

“Never, it’s hibernating season!” He laughs as he turns to go.  “Enjoy the herbs and don’t be a stranger!” He calls out.  

“Stay warm and drink fluids!” Smirking, you can’t stop yourself before adding, “And don’t fall on your ass!”

“Graceful! I’m graceful!” he shrieks back as he slides a bit, righting himself before giving you a dramatic pout.  

“Sure!” You can’t stop from laughing as he makes his way home, mumbling incoherently as he walks away.  

Frowning down at the herbs, thinking of how very kind he’s been to you through the recent years, you find yourself heading into the kitchen.

A trip to the local grocery and a restful night later, you wake to get to work in the kitchen early in the morning.  

For most of the morning, you go through the comforting process of making homemade soup.  You’d made your first soup ages ago in this very kitchen, and it warmed your soul to be doing so again as an adult.

The process of making a homemade loaf of bread to accompany the warm soup alleviates all your stresses, mixing, kneading, rising, baking.  

The aroma of warm yeast and the dried herbs Wooyoung had given you fill the small cottage and you sigh in happiness as the morning stretches into afternoon.  

By the time you’re putting the lid on the pot and getting a bag to carry it in, the day is edging into evening.  Peering out the window, you watch the fat snowflakes fall as you package up the still warm bread.

It only takes you a few minutes to trudge through the snow, as it looks as if Wooyoung has already cleared your driveway that morning despite his obvious cold.  

Sighing at the ridiculous man pushing himself, you make your way up his drive to his door.  

It takes a few moments before you hear the padding of feet, then the door opens to a very obviously sick Wooyoung.

“Why were you out shoveling when you are ill?” You say before he can utter a word and he just gives you a sheepish smile.

“I can’t have you getting snowed in, now can I?” He returns, his voice harsh as he covers his mouth to cough.  “What brings you here?” He asks, eyes dropping to your hands.  

“I told you I’d make you something sometime.” You tell him, feeling suddenly shy.  “I..made some soup so I thought this was a good time to share.” 

The man can only blink at you, those dark eyes shocked as he clears his throat.  “You made me soup?” He asks, and you swear his cheeks redden slightly despite already being pink from his cold.

“And bread.” You say, smiling softly at him.  

For once the normally talkative man seems speechless and you find yourself feeling nervous.  

“Should I not have-” you start.

“Please-come in…wait…I don’t want you to catch-” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not concerned about getting sick.” You cut him off before he can protest more.  

He steps back to let you in and before long, you’re in his kitchen unloading your food for him.  

“I used the herbs you brought over.” You tell him as he watches you, his dark eyes soft and warm.  

“It smells amazing, you made all of this for me?” He asks, blinking at you in awe.  

“Well…I love making soup and bread anyway…” you turn to gesture at the cupboards.  “Is it alright if I get bowls?” 

He nods, rushing to get them out for you, and then you’re ladling soup out and cutting the fresh bread for him. 

“Sit, relax and eat.” You tell him, and he nods, immediately digging into the warm meal.  

“You shouldn’t go out in the cold when you’re not feeling well.” you scold and he looks up at you, blushing.  

“You know…” he starts, but then shakes his head, looking back down at his soup.  “This is delicious…thank you.” 

You watch as he finishes the soup, then as his eyes brighten when he tastes the warm bread with it.  Nothing beats someone enjoying something you’ve created and it pleases you even more that it’s Wooyoung beaming back at you as he praises the meal.  

“I’ll leave the rest here, promise me you’ll eat and rest.” You demand and he can only smile as he nods.  

“Yes, ma’am.  I swear.”  He lets out a soft sigh, rubbing his arms as he shivers.  “I should rest.  How was your holiday?”

“It’s the same, stressful Christmas it always is.  I prefer the spring when everything is starting to grow, and there’s more calm.” 

He hums, nodding as his eyes droop.  “Me too, I like the spring and summer when I can garden…”

“Well it’s time to hibernate, Wooyoung.  I’ll head home, so you get some rest.” You tell him softly, smiling at the sleepy, sick man.  

“Here’s my number, if you need anything.” You tell him, writing it down on a notebook he has on his counter.  

He just locks eyes with you for a moment and you can feel your heart skip a beat, glancing away quickly as he looks down at the number.  

“Homemade food, a house call and a number? I’m tempted to get down on my knees to propose…” He teases and you can’t help but bite your lip at his words.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, pal.  Get yourself healthy first, and you’ll find that it’s the cold talking.” you shoot back, fiddling with the straps of the now empty bag.  

He only gives you a little smile as he nods, walking with you to the door.  “Sleep, I promise.” 

You make your way home, stopping to glance back at him as he waves, feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.  

Was he flirting with me? You think but shake your head as you return home.  “Impossible…” you murmur, setting about getting comfy for a night in.

The days pass and eventually your stay begins to draw to a close.  

You’ve exchanged texts with Wooyoung, back and forth as he gradually gets better.  Unfortunately, you are only out here for a few days before you’re packing back up to return to your busy life.

“I’ll return the pot to you next time you come out,” He texts after you've left.

“Hopefully I’ll be able to get away again soon, but I’ll let you know.” you respond.

And that was it. 

Or so you thought.  

Once home, you found yourself wondering how Wooyoung was doing, but before you could give in to the urge to reach out, you received another message from him.

“So, how are you doing?” He had sent.  

It was a simple question.  

Nothing to get excited about.  

Yet, that question started a daily exchange between the two of you and before long, it had become a routine.  

By February, you were already longing for time off, for the ability to go see the dark haired man you’ve finally had to admit to having a crush on.

A crush? Definitely.

Or was it more?  

So, when he messaged you on February 14th with a picture of a small cluster of alstroemeria; the beautiful pink and gold in a little pot with a heart on it-

You were left speechless.

The words that followed squashed any of your doubts, your heart pounding in excitement.

They read:

“I planted these this past summer after you told me they were your favorite.  I grew these, thinking of you and maybe I’m crazy but…you haven’t left my mind ever since.

“I keep looking out my window, hoping you’ll drive by for another visit.  When you return, would you like to have dinner together? This time I’ll make you something?”

Your cheeks heat at the message, and it takes you a long moment to process his words before you clear your throat.  

“Are you asking me on a date, Wooyoung?” You send back, covering your face as you wait for his response.

“Yes. I am.  It’s not quite a proposal yet, but ….” 

You wait only a second before the next line comes through, warming your cheeks as you glow with happiness.

“Will you be my valentine?”