#he’s tiny and i adore him endlessly

[p1girlfriend]

✦soft habits – f1 grid reactions✦

lando norris ── .✦

he finds out when you fall asleep during a movie night in his hotel room. you’re curled up under the blanket, holding your stuffed animal close.

“wait… is that a stuffed bear?” he melts. takes a quick pic and immediately makes it his phone lockscreen. “you sleep with that every night? you’re literally the cutest thing alive. can i borrow it when you're not here?”

oscar piastri ── .✦

he notices it peeking from your pillow the first time he stays over.

“is this yours?” picks it up very carefully, like it's a sacred object. he's a little awkward about it, but there's a tiny smile he can’t hide. “i think it’s sweet. makes sense you’d have something that soft. kind of like you.” then he makes space for it between you two every night like it’s non-negotiable.

charles leclerc ── .✦

he walks into your room one morning, bringing you coffee, and catches you still in bed hugging it.

he stops. stares. then smirks.

“mon ange… i didn’t know i had competition.” he’ll tease you endlessly—but always makes sure your plush is packed whenever you travel. even buckles it in the car sometimes.

lewis hamilton ── .✦

he gently moves it out of the way to cuddle you and goes:

“aww, you still sleep with your baby.” kisses your forehead and pulls you closer. “that’s the kind of softness the world needs more of.” ends up naming it and giving it a whole personality. now it’s officially a trio: you, Lewis, and Mr. Snuggles.

carlos sainz ── .✦

he notices it on the bed and picks it up like

“¿Y esto?” you blush, and he just grins. “That’s cute. I like it. Reminds me you're still a kid at heart.” then throws it up in the air a few times like it’s a toy for him now, until you snatch it back and he laughs like a menace. he still respects the plushy bedtime ritual though.

daniel ricciardo ── .✦

full-on dramatic reaction.

“NO WAY. you sleep with THIS? every night???” immediately names it something stupid like “Sir Cuddles McSnuggs” and creates a backstory. but he secretly loves that you do it. “i’m not even mad. you’re too cute. can he be our child?”

gabriel bortoleto ── .✦

he’s surprised but so gentle about it.

“Você dorme com ele sempre?” / (“Do you always sleep with it?”) he runs his fingers over it with this soft smile and asks where you got it, if it has a name, how long you've had it. “Posso te dar outro? Tipo, um irmãozinho pra ele?” (“Can I give you another one? Like, a little brother for him?”) buys you a matching one in your favorite color a week later.

franco colapinto ── .✦

tries to play it cool but is clearly flustered.

“Oh… you still sleep with that?” pause. “That’s… actually kind of adorable. Like, really adorable.” pretends he’s not obsessed. secretly gets jealous when you hug the plush more than him.

©p1girlfriend | requests are open!

[luvlystarr]

·········♡········· Prompt: The moment the 141 guys realized they're in love with you. Content: Fluff! (This was all rushed so don't expect it to be the best lol) ························

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick - In all honesty, Kyle has probably been interested since the day you two met. But when he decided to bring you along to his cousin’s birthday party, that's when it fully clicked in his mind. At first he just thought it would be a good idea to get you introduced to his family, you were his close friend after all. It just so happened that his nieces and nephews were there and as soon as they met you they were instantly hooked. Kyle never knew you were so good with kids and just people in general. His nieces and nephews kept playing with you, while his other relatives genuinely enjoyed chatting with you. The exact moment he realized he loves you was when one of his nieces asked you, “Do you like Uncle Kyle?” To which you responded, “Yeah, he’s a very special person to me. I like him a lot.” Of course you had to say those words with that warm, kind smile of yours, it got Kyle melting on the spot. Unbeknownst to you, he heard every single word and has been absolutely lovestruck since then.

John 'Soap' MacTavish - It was quite an odd moment. The moment he knew was when you two were up late at night watching every single Harry Potter movie out there. At some point, about halfway through the third movie, you just started rambling about the characters and story of the whole franchise, even covering little details about the books. Johnny didn’t even know why or how his mind began to think that way, but he just found it so attractive. Even to this day he doesn’t understand why you geeking out about the Harry Potter franchise was so captivating. Maybe it was the way you looked so focused, or how the tv was illuminating your features perfectly, probably your angelic voice too. Either way, he can’t stop thinking about you and he uses every chance he gets to get you talking about any of your interests.   

John Price - He would probably never admit this but the moment he knew he’s in love was when the two of you were fighting. Both of you had a tiny disagreement on something but it ended up growing into a heated argument. For almost half an hour straight, you two just kept going back and forth, gradually raising each other’s voice and becoming more irritated. By the end it got so bad that you slammed your hands on the table and got snappy at John, yelling strings of insults at him. He should be just as angry, but no. In that moment he could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat. How could he get mad if you looked so cute with your pouty lips, furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms? He mistakenly let out a small chuckle at your attempt to be intimidating but he was met with a slap on his face. At that moment he knew that the only reasonable explanation why he felt that way was because he was head over heels.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley - You were the first person he actually got close with. Sure, he has Johnny and he's an amazing friend, but the bond he had with you was unlike any other. The two of you found solace in one another and always had each other's back. The night he knew it was true love was when you drove all the way to his house after a terrible day. You were sobbing endlessly as you rambled on and on about how crappy your boss is as he intently listened, even rubbing your back while handing you a cup of tea. After comforting you, he insisted that you stay for the night. He let you wear one of his hoodies and even let you sleep in his bed. You were hesitant at first but quickly gave in with how insisting he is. He remembered watching you sleep peacefully, all huddled up beneath the blanket. He had to admit, you looked adorable wearing his hoodie with that calm look on your face. That's when it dawned on him just how much he loves you. ········································································

[chokkzou]

⠀(＞。☆) ﹑ IDEAL HUSBAND ⠀✶

︵︵ sypnosis : Ness is the perfect husband: dedicated, loving, and eager to make every moment a reality. He lives to take care of you, anticipate your every need, and be the warmth that awaits you.

𓄹𓈒     alexis ness x male! reader

From the moment you decided to share your life with Ness, it was clear that he was never meant to be just an ordinary husband.

No, he wanted to be the best. To be your unwavering support, your safe haven at the end of the day, your devoted lover in body and soul.

A perfect home, for the perfect husband.

Alexis not only made sure the house was spotless, but he did it with a bright smile, eagerly awaiting your return. He memorized your schedule to the letter, organizing his day to ensure you always had the best when you arrived—whether it was having dinner ready, preparing a warm bath, or greeting you with a kiss that bordered on adoration.

He loved seeing you come home with that tired expression after a long day of work, just so he could wrap you in his arms and spoil you endlessly.

Ness ⸺ Welcome home, mein liebling. How was your day?

His soft voice, his attentive caresses, the way he looked at you with absolute love and devotion... It was clear that he lived only for you.

The kitchen became one of his greatest prides, as nothing pleased him more than delighting you with your favorite dishes.

Not only did he know them by heart, but he learned to make them himself. Always decorating the plates with hearts or stars in sauce, or leaving sweet little notes beside your meal—just in case he fell asleep while waiting for you to come home.

But the best part was when he flirted with small gestures, like letting his shirt slide slightly off his shoulders, revealing tempting glimpses of skin as he served your food.

Sometimes, he would subtly bite his lip without you noticing when he saw tiny smudges of cream or sauce while you ate.

He really wouldn’t mind helping you with that. Perhaps cleaning the corner of your lips with a kiss?

Despite how much Ness loved taking care of you and making you feel like a king, he also enjoyed being pampered.

Whenever he could, he would curl up beside you in your free moments, wrapping his arms around you and demanding at least a bit of your attention.

Ness ⸺ You work too much, liebe~ Don’t you think you should take a break and stay with me for a while?

His voice turned into a tempting whisper, his lips brushed against your neck teasingly, and his fingers lazily traced over your shirt.

He adored it when you held him tight, when you kissed his forehead, or when you simply kept him in your arms without saying a word. For him, that was enough to know he was still your favorite.

Ness didn’t just put effort into the day-to-day; he also dedicated himself to another aspect of your relationship.

His goal was to make you feel like the luckiest man in the world. Always ready to welcome you with submission, sighing your name with a sweetness that drove you insane.

And it was only natural that you’d respond the way Alexis longed for.

Ness ⸺ I love it when you act like this.

He confessed between gasps, his eyes shining with desire and love.

His skin reacted to your every touch, his body trembled beneath yours, and his breathless voice became the melody that filled the room during every encounter.

n/a: ness i love you, why don't you exist? 💔

edit : SORRY??? I deigned to publish the best draft of Ness I could think of (I've had it written for a month, lol)

[taintedtort]

" FAVORITE POSITION? "

summary. their favorite positions and why

characters. toji, gojo, sukuna

warnings. afab!reader, smut, degrading, pet names (doll, baby)

a/n. doing this prompt again with jjk

TOJI

☆ doggy

toji is a simple man. he loves your ass. he loves slapping it as you walk by, he loves watching the slight jiggle of it when you walk, he loves how it looks it tight pants. but, he especially loves when he has you bent over with your face smushed into the mattress while he fucks you stupid. don’t get me wrong, he loves to see your cute expression go dumb after he forces his fat cock into your tiny cunt. but there’s something about seeing you arched and ready, eager to take him inside you. he can always hit deeper in this position too, and he adores how your moans get higher in volume and pitch every time he goes a bit too hard. he’d be slapping and squeezing your cheeks half the time, or admiring how they recoil each time his hips meet. he also likes how you can’t complain in this position. no more cries of "toji! 's too much!" or "ah— can’t take it, too big!" nope. if he hears even the slightest whine, he’s shoving your face into the mattress to shut you up. you don’t mind though, it’s clear by the way your pussy clenches around him, oozing even more arousal.

"you like that, doll? yeah? i can tell. you’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?"

GOJO

☆ missionary

he just loves your expressions so much. the way your face scrunches and your eyes roll back when you cum, it’s the hottest thing to him. he can also tease you easier like this, spewing filthy words that he knows will make your cheeks heat. also loves to force you to make eye contact. you always get shy and look away, but he‘ll just stop his thrusts till you look back at him. it’s also easy to hold you down so you can’t squirm away. his cock is so long and hard, it hits all the right places inside you, nearly making you tear up from pleasure. loves the way you cling onto him, your hands gripping onto his shoulders or his biceps, cutely crying out his name.

"fuck, baby— this pussy's so wet for me… you're practically begging for it."

SUKUNA

☆ full nelson

sukuna loves having full control over you, he wouldn’t have it any other way. with this position, you‘re completely trapped in his hold, at his mercy, just like it should be. it’s cute to see your hands tap against anywhere you can reach, silently begging for him to slow down or give you a break. he never listens though, he just grunts a command in your ear, telling you to "shut up and take it." he‘ll land cruel spanks to your clit in this position, and he laughs at you when he feels your cunt clench. you get so wet too, your pussy leaking slick all over his cock and your thighs. he endlessly makes fun of you for liking how rough he is with you, calling you names and mocking your whiny moans.

"you're so filthy, this greedy pussy is making a mess all over my cock. you gonna clean it? yeah?"

[cameronsbabydoll]

babydoll!reader and rafe going to the kentucky derby 𓃗♡

warnings: suggestive content / implied smut (soft, consensual) adult themes (sex, alcohol, cigars) light sub/dom dynamics (pet names, praise kink) references to crying (reader is described as a crybaby but it’s not framed negatively) romanticization of vintage gender roles (reader as a domestic housewife type)

the suite smells like strawberry lotion and hot rollers.

your powder blue dress is laid out perfectly across the bed, the tulle skirt puffed like a cupcake, the satin bodice shining under the soft morning light. you’ve been up for hours, you woke up with curlers in your hair and lipstick swatched across your hand, already nervous and giggly about today. your eyeshadow is shimmer-pink and pearly, your cheeks all flushed and dolled up, and your lips have been painted and repainted three different shades of red.

you hum as you slip into your vintage heels, little white kitten pumps with bows at the toes, and you pause in front of the mirror to clip your grandma’s brooch to your waist sash. the hat—white and floral, with lace and netting—sits just so on your head. you do a little twirl, tulle swishing.

rafe whistles low from the balcony.

“jesus, doll. you look like you walked outta a painting.” he’s in slacks and a crisp button-down, jacket draped over his shoulder and a cigar tucked between his lips. gold ring on his pinky, sunglasses on, sun hitting his jaw just right. he looks like trouble. expensive, rich boy trouble.

you skip to him on soft steps, leaning on the balcony rail with lace gloves tugged snug to your wrists. “you like it?” you ask sweetly, voice light.

“like it?” he grins, dragging smoke from the cigar. “baby, you look like a fucking 50s housewife on her honeymoon. you sure you don’t wanna just stay in and play house with me instead?”

you gasp, playfully offended. “rafe cameron, i have a dress code to uphold! the kentucky derby doesn’t wait for vintage girls in love.”

—

it’s busy. bright. loud.

but you’re floating through it all like a dream. lace parasol in one hand, rafe’s arm in the other, white gloves gripping him like a tether. every man you pass turns to look, and every woman either smiles knowingly or sneers a little with envy. your lipstick-stained julep glass never leaves your fingers.

you’re chattering endlessly, pointing out the horses by name. “that one’s moonlight darling! oh she’s my favorite. she’s sparkly.”

rafe, who’s already lost too much money betting on horses with pretty names, groans.

“doll. you gotta let me pick this one.”

you pout. “but moonlight darling—”

he groans louder. “fine. but if we lose again i’m selling your parasol for gas money.”

you win. of course you do. you squeal, jumping up and down in your tiny heels, wrapping your arms around rafe’s neck like a child who’s just been handed a puppy. he catches you easily, lifts you off your feet, spinning you once with a breathless laugh. he’s completely fucked. no one’s ever made losing money look so adorable.

“i wanna ride one,” you whisper later, eyes shining as you stare at the stables.

“you what?”

“just for a picture,” you say sweetly, tilting your head. “please, baby? for my scrapbook?”

rafe looks at you—dressed like a housewife, gloves dusty, tulle skirt caught in the wind, clutching a paper fan and smiling up at him like you’ll die if he says no—and he sighs.

ten minutes later you’re on a horse, absolutely glowing, gripping the reins with your skirt puffed out like a pastry, cheeks red from the sun and laughter. rafe stands beside you, sunglasses on, one hand holding your ankle to steady you, the other flicking his cigar.

“you look so fuckin’ stupid,” he teases. “but like, in a cute way.”

you stick your tongue out at him and almost fall off.

—

you’re still breathless from the high when you get back to the hotel.

your gloves are peeled off, your hat discarded. rafe’s already loosened his tie, shirt half-unbuttoned, eyes locked on you as you slip off your heels and sink into the velvet couch like a melted piece of candy.

“you were real good today, babydoll,” he murmurs, sitting beside you, hand sliding over your knee. “didn’t cry once.”

you pout. “not true. i got teary when the old man gave me the horse ribbon.”

“ah. right. almost forgot you’re a crier.”

you giggle, curling into him like a kitten, your lips brushing his jaw. “you said i could have a prize,” you remind him. “what if i want you?”

he chuckles darkly, pushing your curls away from your face. “you already have me, sweetheart.”

he fucks you slow. sweet. soft.

your vintage dress pushed up over your hips, white cotton panties stretched to the side. you’re lying on the hotel bedspread, legs wrapped around his waist, pearl earrings still on. your lipstick’s smudged and your hands are trembling, mascara threatening to run every time he murmurs something filthy in your ear.

he praises you the whole time. tells you you’re pretty. tells you you’re good. tells you that he’ll buy you a damn horse if it means he gets to see you all pink and pouty like this again.

you cry. of course you do. right on cue, right as you fall apart around him, clutching his shirt and babbling something about how much you love him.

“i know, doll,” he whispers, mouth hot against your cheek. “you love me. you’re mine. my soft little thing.”

the next morning, you’re in one of your old slip dresses, barefoot in the suite kitchen, making breakfast with a record playing in the background. you’re humming along to frank sinatra and scrambling eggs like a housewife, your lipstick already on.

rafe walks in shirtless, hair messy, phone in hand. “what’s for breakfast, mrs. cameron?”

you giggle. “whatever you want, mister cameron.”

he kisses you hard and says, “good girl.”

[writesvani]

dear me | 04

lawyer! jungkook x privatechef! reader

SUMMARY: Once upon a time, Jungkook and you were everything. Best friends who shared every moment, every secret—except one: you were in love with him. But life changed. High school ended, real life began, and slowly, you drifted apart, the distance between you growing too wide to cross.

The end. Except it isn't.

One day, after a long day at work, you open your email to find a message from 13 years ago—written by your younger self. A letter you’d forgotten, sent by a service you paid to remind you of your youth, your love for him. As the emails keep on coming and you keep reading, the flood of memories hits you, and you realize something heartbreaking: you never stopped loving him.

But now, it’s too late. Jungkook is about to marry someone else. Or is he?

estranged childhood best friends-to-friends-to-lovers?

TRIGGER WARNINGS (for this chapter): anxiety, guilt, discomfort, emotional distress, self-sabotage, past trauma, relationship tension, self-doubt, jealousy, awkwardness, manipulation, abandonment, social anxiety

comment HERE for Dear Me taglist;

SERIES M.LIST;

— previous chapter // next chapter

wc: 6,4k // date: 28th of March 2025

CHAPTER FOUR — The House; happy reading my gummies...

AN: hey hey hey!!! okay, so, like, i am OBSESSED with this chapter. like, truly. i love it SO MUCH and i really hope you all love it too because i’m freaking out over here!!

now, listen up, i’m setting a NOTE GOAL for this chapter—250 notes because YOU GUYS LITERALLY SMASHED THE LAST ONE IN 2 DAYS and that’s just like... UNREAL! i'm over here losing my mind. i can’t even. you guys are LEGENDS. so, yeah, let’s hit that 250 and guess what? I’LL BE POSTING CHAPTER 5 ASAP once we get there. i HAVE to make the note goal higher because if i keep it at 200—i'll literally post everyday and i DO NOT have the strength to do that. i am sorry (not sorry at all).

—love, vani

To be quite honest, you’d rather switch places with Sisyphus right now.

Yeah, you’d probably be drenched in sweat, rolling that massive boulder up a hill over and over again, failing endlessly, panting like a feral raccoon on the verge of collapse.

And yet? You’d take it. Gladly.

You’d throw yourself into the depths of the underworld’s worst punishments if it meant being anywhere else but here. If it meant doing anything else but sitting through this.

If it meant not having to hear, for the hundredth time, just how great Jungkook’s proposal to Nina was. How wholesome and romantic and perfect it had been. How your childhood best friend—the one you once knew like the back of your hand—is, apparently, the most lovable, charming, sweet, and overall best boyfriend-turned-fiancé in existence.

You grit your teeth as Nina’s voice pulls you back to the present, each of her words like a tiny, invisible shock to your system. Her joy is undeniable, written all over her face in bright, delicate excitement. Her hands move animatedly through the air, cutting through the thick atmosphere of the coffee shop, mimicking the way Jungkook had taken her hand in his, the way he had slipped that ring onto her finger.

And you?

You just sit there, nodding along, pretending that every detail doesn’t feel like a stone being added to the weight already crushing your chest.

Yoongi is nodding along, gasping at all the right moments—but you see through him. His fingers tap lightly against his cup, and his lips twitch, like he’s suppressing a grimace every time Nina gets a little too animated. He loves her, adores her even, but Yoongi—despite being a massive book nerd with an unspoken love for romance in fiction—is allergic to real-life romance talk.

So the fact that he’s enduring this? Says a lot.

You, on the other hand, sit stiffly, your fingers curled around the handle of your cup, the ceramic warm against your skin. You don’t tense. You don’t flinch. You just… exist in the moment, pretending this conversation isn’t making you want to pour your espresso straight into your eyes. Your smiles are perfectly timed, your little laughs polite—just enough to make it seem like you’re engaged. But inside, every word feels like an iron weight pressing on your chest.

“And I swear, I was shocked,” Nina exclaims, eyes wide, hands flying through the air as if she’s physically reliving the moment.

Yoongi leans back slightly, expression unreadable. “No way you didn’t see it coming at all.”

Nina scoffs, placing a hand over her heart as if personally offended. “I didn’t! Look!”

Before anyone can react, she shoves her phone into Yoongi’s face so fast he physically jerks back, blinking like she just hit him with a flashlight. You don’t even need to look at the screen to know what it is.

“My friends and YOU, my sweet brother, knew and didn’t even tell me to get my nails done,” she groans dramatically, shaking her head.

Across the table, Jungkook, who’s been suspiciously quiet during this entire reenactment of his own damn proposal, finally speaks.

“They didn’t wanna ruin the surprise for you, baby.”

His voice is soft, steady, but there’s something in the way his hand lightly rubs Nina’s back that makes your stomach churn.

You tilt your head, forcing out a light laugh. “Wow. Talk about friendly sabotage.”

It’s an attempt at humor—something, anything—but your fingers twitch against your cup, and when Jungkook glances at you, just for a second, his expression unreadable, you feel it.

The weight of it.

Of everything.

Jungkook looks away first.

The moment is fleeting—just a quick glance, a second of hesitation—but it lingers in the air like a truth neither of you dares to acknowledge. The weight of years apart, of missed conversations and things left unsaid, sits between you, thick and unmovable.

And then, Nina speaks again, blissfully unaware of the silent war happening right in front of her.

“But they could’ve at least hinted at it,” she whines, but her eyes shine, a soft glow of happiness radiating from her features. “Like, I dunno—‘Oh, your nails are getting long, maybe book an appointment?’” She sighs, shaking her head. “Now my engagement pics are lowkey ugly.”

You let out a small, amused scoff. “C’mon, it can’t be that bad. Let me see.”

She doesn’t hesitate to show you her phone, flipping the screen toward you. You lean in slightly, eyes scanning the image. And yeah, okay—you get it. Her nails are a bit grown out, the perfect white tips slightly out of place, but it’s nothing dramatic. Still, if it were your hands in that picture, with a ring that big and nails that unpolished, you’d probably throw a tiny fit too.

You tilt your head, offering her a sympathetic smile. “Ouch. You kinda do have a point, girl.”

“Right?” Nina huffs, crossing her arms, but there’s laughter laced in her voice now.

Your gaze flickers to her hand, fingers curled around her coffee cup, the diamond on her finger catching the light just right. “At least your nails are on point now,” you remark, nodding toward them.

She grins, wiggling her fingers in front of you. “Duh. No way I was letting that happen again.”

Yoongi snorts. “I swear, you’re the only person who could turn a proposal into a nail horror story.”

“Hey! It’s a valid concern,” Nina shoots back, tossing a sugar packet at him. “A girl’s gotta have her priorities straight.”

Jungkook chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “Babe, you literally cried when I got down on one knee. You didn’t even notice your nails until, like, an hour later.”

“Yeah, because I was overwhelmed!” She points an accusing finger at him before turning to you. “Do you know how rude it is to just casually propose out of nowhere? No warning, no heads-up—just ‘boom, life-changing moment, now deal with it.’”

You press your lips together, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Damn, how dare he propose to you without a PowerPoint presentation and a six-week prep course?”

“Thank you!” Nina exclaims, dramatically placing a hand over her chest. “Finally, someone who understands my suffering.”

Jungkook groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “Next time, I’ll send out a calendar invite first.”

“Yeah, maybe you could even send it to us too—so we can all prepare for the big day.”

The words leave your lips before you can stop them. Sharp-edged, bitter. You’re an adult. You know better than to let something so petty slip out. It’s not like you. It’s childish. Spiteful. But restraint is impossible when the truth is gnawing at you from the inside out—when the person who once felt like an extension of yourself didn’t even tell you he was getting married.

Didn’t give you the chance to be there. To help pick the perfect ring. To witness his excitement, his nerves, the way he used to come to you with every major life decision. You were robbed. Of a moment. Of a friendship. Of him.

Nina, oblivious, just laughs at your remark, too caught up in the glow of her engagement to notice the venom laced in your voice. She keeps swiping through her phone, showing video after video of the proposal—footage taken by the friends who did know, who were there, because Jungkook, ever the romantic, wanted to pop the question in front of the people she loved.

Yoongi wasn’t there. He had been overseas for a project. That’s the only reason. But it’s funny, isn’t it? How he never even mentioned the proposal to you until the invites were sent out. How that makes you question so many things.

Funnier still is the way he reacts.

Jungkook blinks. Slowly. His expression barely shifts, but you see it. The subtle tightening of his jaw, the way his tongue darts out to press against his cheek. His brows furrow, just slightly, like your words bother him. Like they’re an itch he can’t quite scratch.

And Yoongi—he catches it too. His shoulders flinch, his breath stutters for just a fraction of a second, but his gaze never leaves Nina’s phone. Like he’s pretending he didn’t hear. Like he doesn’t want to hear.

“Mhm.” Jungkook hums, tapping his fingers against his cup. “Didn’t wanna tell too many people. Didn’t want it getting out too soon.” His lips pull into a smirk, eyes meeting yours with a flicker of something unreadable. Something close to a challenge. “You know how it is—I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise.”

You force a nod, shifting in your seat. “Yeah,” you say, voice a little too smooth, a little too controlled. “Good thing you only told the people you trust.”

His smirk falters—just for a second. It’s quick, almost imperceptible, but you catch it. He tilts his head slightly, like he’s choosing his next words carefully.

“Well, you know me,” he finally says, leaning back with a casual shrug. “Always thinking ahead.”

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Genius.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, but there’s something tight in the way his jaw moves, something lingering in the air between you that neither of you dares to name.

“Sooo,” Nina drawls, turning to you with a sly look, her eyebrow raised like she’s putting you on trial. “What’s going on with that boyfriend of yours?”

You blink at her, momentarily lost. “Which boyfriend?”

She scoffs. “Come on, you know—the guy you were talking about last time I saw you.”

You tilt your head, giving her a flat look. “Nina, that was two years ago.”

“So what?” She shrugs, taking a sip of her drink like that’s not a ridiculous amount of time to be out of the loop.

You exhale sharply, pressing your lips together. “We broke up over a year ago.”

Her brows furrow. “Why?”

You pause, fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of your cup. “Ehh… We just—drifted apart, I guess. Fell out of love.”

Nina hums, eyes flickering over you like she’s assessing if that’s the whole truth. You hold her gaze, daring her to dig deeper. She doesn’t—but the air still feels a little heavier.

You don’t notice the way Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around his coffee cup, how his grip falters just enough for the ceramic to shift in his hands. You don’t catch the subtle squint of his eyes when you mutter “drifted apart.”

But Yoongi does.

His gaze flickers to Jungkook, studying him like he’s reading between the lines of an unfinished story. Their eyes meet for the briefest second—silent, heavy. Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, clears his throat, like the moment never happened. Like Yoongi hadn’t just told him something without saying a single word.

But the message is loud and clear.

Dude, you’re an asshole.

But Jungkook—he doesn’t feel like an asshole. He doesn’t feel like he did something wrong.

Because he was the one who tried.

He was the one sending Facebook messages every damn day that summer while you were in Europe, just so you could reply—maybe three times a week, at best—because you were just so busy.

He was the one staying up all night, his textbooks blurred at the edges from exhaustion, only to set his alarm too early just so he could call you before your day started.

He was the one skipping lectures, missing out on life around him, just to sit in his tiny dorm room and listen to you talk—because that’s how much he wanted to hold onto you.

And when he finally stopped—when he silenced his alarm, when he went to class, when he decided to just wait and see if you’d reach out first—there was nothing.

No new calls.

No desperate messages.

Just silence.

And that silence? It was deafening. It was humiliating. It rang louder than any ‘I don’t love you anymore’ ever could.

So, no. Jungkook doesn’t feel like an asshole. He just feels like someone who learned the hard way that loving someone more than they love you is its own kind of heartbreak. He’s the one who learned when to stop trying.

When to stop holding onto the ties already cut.

“So, what are you guys up to tonight?” Nina asks, her gaze flicking between you and Yoongi as she swirls the last of her coffee in her cup. There’s a glint in her eye—curious, maybe even a little mischievous.

Yoongi leans back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “Nothing much. Gotta finish a chapter I’m reviewing for that author I told you about,” he says, voice casual, though you can tell he’s already dreading it.

You glance at him before taking a slow sip of your coffee, the bitterness settling on your tongue. “Same. Just… getting mentally prepared for work tomorrow.”

Technically, it’s not a lie. You do have work tomorrow. But beneath the surface, there’s a flicker of something else, something you try to ignore—a spark of unease picking at your subconscious.

Because it’s Wednesday.

And that means an email is coming.

An email you don’t want to read. An email you’ll tell yourself to ignore. An email you know you’ll end up opening anyway, your fingers hovering over words that feel like ghosts of your past self, haunting you in black and white.

Yoongi, oblivious to the shift in your mind, tilts his head toward Nina. “Why?” he asks, tone easy but laced with mild suspicion.

Nina taps her fingers against the table, her lips twitching as if she’s debating something. Then, she shrugs, but it’s far too casual to be genuine.

“I was just thinking…” she starts, letting the words linger, dangling in the air like bait.

You're hooked, despite yourself. Nina’s dramatic pause stretches, her fingers absently twirling a lock of her black hair as she builds the suspense.

"Since Kook and I took a few days off..." she starts, her tone almost too careful. Then, before either of you can react, she holds up a hand. "Look—before you call me crazy, I know it’s the middle of the week," she adds quickly, eyes locking onto Yoongi like she already expects his disapproval.

Yoongi exhales sharply, his patience wearing thin. "Just spit it out, for fuck’s sake."

Nina grins, as if this is exactly the reaction she was hoping for.

"Okay, so—I saw there’s a gig at The House tonight, and I thought, maybe we could all go. Check it out. You know, like we used to in high school."

Her words land heavy in the air. Nostalgia. A double-edged sword. You feel it settle into your chest, an old, familiar ache.

The House is a relic of your teen years, a place that holds too much history to ever feel neutral. By day, it was a quiet coffee shop, hidden from the general crowd—only those who truly knew TH even realized it was open before sunset.

But at night? It transformed. Gigs, live music, bands clawing their way into existence, hoping to be something more than just a name on a dimly lit flyer. The House wasn’t just a venue; it was a second home. A place where dreams felt tangible, where friendships were solidified over cheap drinks and lyrics screamed into the air.

And if you go tonight, you already know exactly how it’ll go. The moment you step through those doors, Alex will spot you. His signature flirty smirk will stretch across his lips, the same one he’s been sending your way since you were a teenager. He’s only two years older, but he’s been working at The House since your very first time there—and somehow, he never left. A fixture. A piece of that place, just like the worn-out stage and the dim, flickering neon sign above the entrance.

Alex was always a walking contradiction. Despite his shameless attempts to charm anything with two legs and a vagina, he was also something else to you. To all of you. Like an older brother who saw too much, who knew more than he let on. Who watched you fall in love—watched you get hurt—and never said a damn thing.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? If you go tonight, it won’t just be a night out. It’ll be a collision with your past, a forced confrontation with the version of yourself that once walked those same floors, heart bare and reckless.

So, no. Thank you, but no. You’d rather spend the night wallowing in your misery, drowning in thar email, than risk stepping back into a place that remembers too much.

“Ugh, I don’t know…” Yoongi scratches the back of his head, clearly torn between his usual routine and Nina’s relentless pleading.

You lean back in your chair, taking a slow sip of your coffee. “I have work tomorrow, girl,” you remind her, hoping she’ll get the hint.

Nina’s eyes widen, and she immediately pouts, sticking out her bottom lip like she’s trying to win a contest for the most dramatic face. “Please,” she begs, “we haven’t gone out since high school. Just one night. Please?”

You roll your eyes, feeling the weight of her stare. “One night? Yeah, right. You’ll be the first to tell me how much I regret it tomorrow.”

“Not if you’re with us!” Nina says, flipping her hair dramatically. “It’ll be fun! You, Kook, Yoongi and me—same old crew, just like the good old days.”

Yoongi scoffs, giving her a side-eye. “You act like we were some wild party animals back then.”

Nina grins mischievously. “Whatever, but I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You stare at her, arms crossed. “Fine. But this is the last time, you hear me? Next time you pull this stunt, I’m throwing you in a broom closet with Alex from The House.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Wait, so you're going just to avoid the broom closet?”

You shrug. “Maybe. Or maybe I just enjoy torturing myself.”

Jungkook, who had been quietly observing the conversation, finally speaks up, his voice a little hesitant but teasing. “You know,” he says, leaning in slightly, “if you really want to make it interesting, we could all take shots and make it a competition. Who can go the longest without regretting it?”

You glance at him, your eyebrow raised. “Oh, you think you’re some kind of expert on not regretting things?”

Jungkook smirks, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Well, I did just propose, didn’t I? That takes a lot of confidence... and the ability to ignore some regrets.”

You laugh dryly, rolling your eyes. “Good one, Kook. Real subtle.”

Nina claps her hands excitedly. “Yes! That’s exactly the spirit we need! It’s settled. We’re going!”

You lean back in your chair, pretending to contemplate. “Fine. But if I hate it, I’m blaming all of you. And I’ll make sure you pay for the coffee tomorrow.”

Yoongi leans back in his chair with a smirk. “If I end up with a hangover tomorrow, I’m blaming you. And I’ll make sure you’re the one buying that coffee.”

Jungkook grins, chiming in, “I think I will need another coffee after Nina’s ‘party planning.’”

Nina gives him a playful glare. “You’re all just jealous you don’t have the same enthusiasm for drinking.”

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, yeah. But if I end up regretting this, I’m haunting every single one of you.”

Nina winks. “Deal!”

The weight of reality hits you the moment you step through the door of your apartment. The familiar scent of home isn’t as comforting as it used to be; instead, it hangs in the air like an unwelcome reminder. Why? Why did you agree to this reunion, knowing exactly what it would stir up? Going to The House feels like self-sabotage—it feels like clawing at open wounds that never really healed, just scabbed over. It's a mistake. You know it’s a mistake.

You stare blankly at your surroundings, the space that once felt so much like yours, and now it feels... wrong. The corner of your table catches your eye. Your laptop sits there, silently screaming at you. It’s the email. That email. It’s been sitting there all day, mocking you. “Take me. Read me. You know you want to,” it seems to whisper. But you won’t. Not today. No. You won’t let yourself fall back into that mess—not today, not when you're already feeling like this.

You push the thought away, willing yourself to breathe through the tightness building in your chest. There’s a limit to how much you can take, and you’ve reached it. You will not engage with that stupid email today, no matter how much it calls to you like some kind of irresistible siren. No. Not when you have exactly three hours before you have to face everyone.

Before you have to see Jungkook again.

It’s been so long since you’ve had to look him in the eye. Seeing him earlier today was one thing, but now, after everything, having to face him again—two times in one day—feels like too much. You’re not sure what you expected from today, but you know it wasn’t this.

Not this weight.

You stand there, frozen in the middle of your apartment, knowing you should get ready. But it feels impossible. Every part of you is screaming to run away, to hide from the past that keeps trying to drag you back. But you can’t. You won’t. You have to face it—face them. Even if it feels like you’re suffocating under the pressure of it all.

Your mind drifts back to The House, the one place you’ve avoided for so long. The memories are already flooding back. The laughter, the music, the people you used to know so well. But most of all, it’s the feeling of him—Jungkook. His presence is still a shadow over everything. And you know, deep down, this reunion, this thing Nina’s dragging you into, is just going to make everything worse. You're not ready.

You never will be.

Your phone lights up, the soft ping of a new message breaking the silence of your apartment. You glance down—Yoongi.

Yoon 🤍: ya home?

You: yea, just arrived. u?

Yoon 🤍: same. you sure you wanna go out tonight?

You: no, haha. wby?

Yoon 🤍: same man. but she’s my sis and the bride, gotta make her happy.

You: yeaa

Yoon 🤍: and i guess it would be nice to chill there, like before yk? see alex.

You: yeah, i miss alex, lowkey feel gulity for not visiting him there.

Yoon 🤍: yea me too.

Yoon 🤍: go get ready, we’ll be picking you up later.

Your phone pings again, Yoongi’s name lighting up the screen.

Yoon 🤍: you okay tho?

You: yeah, just... weird.

Yoon 🤍: i get that. but it’ll be fine. i’ll be there.

You: thanks. i guess it’s just… i dunno, feels like a lot of things are gonna come back up.

Yoon 🤍: yeah, i hear you. but sometimes it’s good to face the past, yk?

You: idk if i’m ready for that.

Yoon 🤍: i’ll be there to distract you if it gets too much.

You: appreciate it.

Yoon 🤍: of course. just get ready, we’ll be leaving soon.

You: alright, give me like 20 minutes.

Yoon 🤍: sounds good. see you soon.

You set your phone down, trying to take a deep breath, but then the realization hits. You quickly grab your phone again.

You: wtf dude, aren’t u supposed to pick me up in 3 hrs, not this soon?

Yoon 🤍: 😂 i’m messing with you. we won’t be there for a while. but hurry up, time’s ticking!

You: you’re an asshole, but i’m getting ready.

You roll your eyes, setting the phone down again.

As soon as you slide into the car, a sense of discomfort washes over you. It’s like stepping into a memory you’d rather not revisit, yet here you are. The seating arrangement is completely different from what you expected. Yoongi is at the wheel, his hands lazily draped over the steering wheel, fingers splayed wide. He’s laughing at something Nina’s saying—some ridiculous piece of friendship drama she’s telling him, no doubt embellished for dramatic effect. Nina, as usual, is sitting in the passenger seat, her voice louder than the rest of the car’s noise.

Then there's the seating beside you: Jungkook. It feels strange. Just like before. Yoongi and Nina are up front, gossiping, while you and Jungkook are squeezed into the backseat like it’s high school all over again. You’d imagined Nina and Jungkook sitting next to each other, given the whole engagement thing, but no—Nina missed her brother so much, she had to hog him for herself.

You sit next to Jungkook, trying to ignore the growing awkwardness. The car is small—Yoongi’s car is cramped, and the backseat feels even smaller. Jungkook is practically taking up half of it, his body large and solid, pushing you against the door like a pancake. You can sense the heat radiating off him, and every time he shifts, it’s like you feel it. His leg brushes against yours, making the space feel even more suffocating.

“Sorry,” Jungkook mumbles, trying to adjust, but his leg doesn’t budge much.

You chuckle dryly, trying to mask the tension in your chest. “It’s fine. Not like you can really do anything about it,” you say, motioning vaguely at how small the car is with your hand.

He nods, his eyes drifting to the window, as if he’s looking for some kind of escape in the passing scenery. The silence stretches between you, the weight of old, unspoken words hanging in the air.

You clear your throat, breaking the silence, whispering, even though your voice sounds too loud in your head. “I’m glad, you know.”

“Huh?” Jungkook looks at you, confusion flickering in his gaze.

“About your engagement,” you clarify, glancing at him. “How your life turned out. It’s... good to see.”

He softens at that, nodding in appreciation. “Thank you. Same goes for you. I’m glad all your dreams came true.”

You offer a small, forced smile. “Yeah, thank you.” The words are polite, but they feel like they belong to someone else.

The words hang in the air for a moment, soft but heavy. Jungkook’s voice barely breaks through the hum of the car, but you catch it, feeling the weight of it settle between you.

“Did you ever regret it?” His words are a whisper, but there's a tremor in his tone, something vulnerable hiding beneath the surface. You glance at him, catching the shift in his expression—there’s a quiet intensity in his eyes, like he's waiting for something, anything, from you.

You feel your chest tighten. Regret? The question cuts deeper than you expected. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, the cramped space suddenly feeling even smaller.

“Regret what?” You ask, your voice quieter than you intended, your breath catching slightly as you look over at him.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the passing streetlights outside, as if the answer is too difficult to voice. “Following your dreams,” he says again, slower this time, as if testing the words on his tongue.

You breathe in sharply, trying to shake off the heaviness that threatens to settle in your chest. You let the silence stretch for a beat too long before you respond, trying to sound more certain than you feel.

“Never thought about it,” you reply, the words leaving your mouth easily enough. You glance away from him, fingers fiddling with the hem of your sleeve as you add, “But no, I don’t think so.”

And yet, even as the words leave your lips, there’s a flicker of doubt. A small part of you wonders if you really don’t regret it—if you don’t regret all the things you left behind in the process, the pieces of yourself that never quite fit after chasing everything else.

The rest of the ride passes in silence between you and Jungkook, the quiet tension almost suffocating. The only sounds are the hum of the engine and the occasional shift of his leg pressing against yours, the warmth of it seeping through your jeans, but neither of you speak. The space between you feels like a canyon, and you’re unsure if you’re even capable of bridging it anymore.

Instead, you let Nina's voice fill the car, a steady stream of gossip, her words a distracting, almost absurd relief from the heavy quiet. You listen absently as she recounts her latest drama, her tone increasingly animated.

“So, like,” Nina starts, her voice brimming with excitement, “Ana, you know Ana, right?” Yoongi nods. “Well, apparently, she’s been sleeping with her best friend’s husband. And get this—she’s been doing it right under her nose, for months.”

You blink, glancing at Nina through the rearview mirror, raising your eyebrows. The shock registers slowly. What the hell?

“I mean, what kind of shit is that? You should’ve seen Ana’s face when I called her out on it. She was like, ‘It’s just a fling, Nina. I don’t owe anyone an explanation.’” Nina lets out a loud, disbelieving laugh, “A fling?! With a married man? How do you even get to that point?”

You can feel the tension in the car rise, your stomach sinking as Nina’s story spirals.

"And guess what? The wife knows—she just hasn’t said anything yet. She's playing it cool, waiting to catch them in the act. She’s just letting Ana keep digging her own grave.”

Nina’s eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, a grin playing at the corner of her mouth as she leans in closer to Yoongi, who looks like he’s trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Wait,” you interject, not sure if you want to hear any more, “So, what—Ana's sleeping with the guy while his wife is just letting her?”

Nina nods, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Exactly! And the best part?” She leans forward, her voice dropping dramatically. “She caught them at a party the other night. The husband literally walked right past her, gave Ana this huge kiss on the cheek, and then turned to his wife and said, ‘Babe, I’m going to grab another drink.’ As if nothing was going on!”

You stare at her, blinking in disbelief. “What the hell?”

Nina throws her hands up in mock frustration, her eyes wide as if she's about to lose her mind. “I know! It’s like a fucking soap opera. I swear to God, I can’t keep up with these people anymore.” She shakes her head, laughing at the absurdity of it all. “Like, if you’re gonna cheat, at least have the decency to be subtle about it.”

You glance over at Jungkook, who still hasn’t spoken, his eyes focused outside the window, though you can tell he's listening. His profile is unreadable, but you wonder if all lf this is more of a distraction for him than it is for you.

As soon as you step into The House, everything is blurry. The chaos of the night engulfs you—laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the booming bass from the speakers that makes the floor beneath your feet vibrate. There are a lot of faces, some familiar, some new. Thank God for the new ones. For a moment, you let yourself breathe in the energy of the place, the music blaring, the cigarette smoke curling around you, invading your senses.

Then you hear the familiar sound of a voice you didn’t realize you missed.

"Well, well, well, look who it is."

Behind the bar, a wide grin spreads across Alex’s face, his eyes lighting up as soon as he sees the four of you. Without hesitation, he’s moving—practically running—towards Jungkook. The scene is a little bizarre, sure. Alex, a full head shorter than Jungkook, wraps his arms around him like a long-lost mother finally reunited with her child.

“My boy!” Alex beams, patting Jungkook’s back like he’s proud of him for some hidden accomplishment. Jungkook laughs, actually laughs, his shoulders shaking a little with the sound.

“You’ve gotten so big. You’re huge now,” Alex adds, since the last time he saw Jungkook was… Well… Years ago.

Jungkook smirks, chuckling under his breath. “You forgot how to use a razor or something,” Jungkook says, pointing at Alex’s beard.

The comment makes Alex pull back just enough to give him a playful shove. “Hey, don’t start with me. I’m just getting better with age, alright?”

Nina, with a sly grin, steps forward as Alex turns to her. "Pretty girl," Alex motions toward her with a wink, “Look at you. Thinking about giving me a chance already?”

Nina laughs, rolling her eyes but giving him the affectionate hug he’s so eager to receive. “You’re still so lame.”

"You know I’m just being nice,” Alex says, patting her on the back as she pulls away. “But I’ll take the hug. You look good, girl.”

Yoongi, already standing off to the side with his arms crossed, lets out a small sigh. "The nerdy," Alex singsongs, eyes narrowing with the teasing tone. He gives Yoongi a respectful dap, fully aware how Yoongi’s personal space is sacred.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow but doesn’t pull away, muttering a quiet, “You’re lucky I don’t have to be nice to you,” but his voice holds no real bite.

And then Alex’s gaze falls on you. His eyes soften immediately, like everything around him just slows down. He leans over the counter, his arms outstretched toward you. “And my lil monster,” he murmurs, his body melting into yours as you wrap your arms around him.

You breathe in, the scent of him enveloping you—cologne, wood smoke, and something you swear smells like the old leather of the barstools. He smells like home. A safe place you didn’t know you needed.

“I missed you too,” you say, your voice surprisingly soft as you bury your face in his shoulder.

Alex chuckles, pulling back just a bit to give you a knowing look. “You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”

You smirk, rolling your eyes playfully. “Don’t start, Alex.”

“Can’t help it,” he grins widely, the energy between you two palpable. “You all still owe me drinks. I’m running a tab tonight. Just like old times, yeah?”

Nina glances at Yoongi with a raised brow. “You know, I don’t think I ever told him no,” she says, half-teasing, half-serious.

Yoongi snorts, his arms still crossed. “We’re still not paying for you. Last time you drank enough for all of us.”

Alex throws his head back, laughing loudly, clearly unbothered by their teasing. “Yeah, yeah. But I’m the one who knows the best drinks, so you’re all stuck with me.”

You settle into the bar stools, the hard, cool surface pressing into your legs, yet it feels oddly comforting. The familiar buzz of The House surrounds you—dim lights, low murmurs of conversation, and the steady hum of the music—but all you can focus on is the figure behind the bar. Alex. His face practically glows as he crosses his arms, his sharp gaze flicking between the four of you with an intensity that feels almost... predatory. It’s like he’s studying you, looking for something, anything, that betrays the carefully constructed walls each of you put up. You can almost feel the weight of his eyes on you, dissecting every movement, every shift.

“So, what’s new?” Alex asks, his voice casual, but his eyes betray an underlying curiosity that you’re not sure you want to indulge.

Surprisingly, it’s Jungkook who answers first. He was always the one who could talk to Alex without hesitation, like the two of them shared some sacred bond. You can almost hear the warmth in his voice when he speaks. “I’m getting married, bro.”

Alex freezes for a moment, and for the briefest second, time seems to halt in its tracks. His brows furrow, and a flicker of recognition crosses his face as he processes Jungkook’s words. Then, his eyes dart to you, and it feels like the world slows down, all noise fading into a dull hum.

“Dang, dude,” Alex says, the words lingering in the air. “So I didn’t only miss you making it official, I missed the whole proposal?”

And just like that, everything shifts. The air in the room turns thick, suffocating. Your breath catches in your chest, and for a second, you think you might choke on your own thoughts. What? The? Fuck? Why would he say something like that? Why would he imply something so... loaded?

Jungkook gulps, his hand instinctively reaching for his drink, but it’s not served yet. There’s nothing to steady the trembling in his fingers. You see the tension in his jaw, the way he clenches his teeth, as if holding himself back from saying something. Yoongi’s eyes shut for a fraction of a second, like he’s trying to block out the uncomfortable atmosphere. Nina just stares, her expression unreadable, caught somewhere between confusion and shock.

And you? You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to feel. All you can hear is the sound of your own pulse thudding in your ears, louder than any of the chatter around you. You want to say something—anything—to break the tension, but your words get stuck in your throat.

But then, like a cruel punchline, Alex bursts into laughter. It’s not just a chuckle. It’s manic, almost cackling, like he’s just pulled off the best prank of his life.

“Ha!” he says, his voice ringing with amusement. “Should’ve seen your faces, I’m just kidding.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, but the relief doesn’t last. It doesn’t feel like a joke. Not really. The weight of his words hangs in the air, lingering in a way that makes you feel like you’re being suffocated by something you can’t shake. Because Alex is too good at reading people. He knows. He knows something shifted in the room, something unspoken that’s now hanging between you all. And even though he’s laughing, you can feel the subtle shift in his demeanor. You can feel his gaze flicker toward you, that apologetic look in his eyes—his way of trying to backpedal, to ease the tension he just created.

But it doesn’t feel like an apology. Not when you see how his eyes flick toward Jungkook with that look—a silent understanding passing between them. It’s the kind of look that speaks volumes, and you know exactly what it means: He saw it. He knows.

The air feels colder now, heavier. And no one says a word as Alex wipes the smile off his face, pretending like everything is fine, like nothing just happened. But you can’t shake the feeling that nothing good comes after this.

taglist: @lovingkoalaface @santiiagopopegarcia @jadaocon1 @asyr97 @gukieater @themwordsblog @whatevevrerr @amarawayne @tititania @guwol @reallygenerouskoala @bgfdcvbnjk @kyljjk @whoa-jo @taekritimin123 @minimoninini @upo1313 @polnaraffsrack @tatzzz-25 @orphicepiphany @coletaehyung @bjoriis @epiphany-n @kimyishin @eegyo @dearmyfavoritepeople-bts @parkinglot-nights @mar-lo-pap @evrsncenewyork @jjeonjjk7 @minghaosimp @cerulean1riz @anumita-2007 @vantelover1306 @vynmin @nadzzzblog @jnghs @lachimolalajeon

[prettylilyanime]

Our Blessing ♡ Prologue

♡ Pairing: Toji Zenin x reader

♡ Synopsis: in which your ex boyfriend left you with your biggest blessing in life, or- a bundle of a blessing. And he doesn’t even know it.

♡ tags/warnings: 18+, (explicit content in later chapters) angst, and drama, exes to lovers, hidden baby trope, Toji is an asshole (but we love him), Reader just wants to raise Megumi in peace, CEO Toji, possessive Toji, emotionally constipated Toji, Tension, misunderstandings, Flashbacks to past relationship, Heavy themes of abandonment, trust issues, and redemption, baby Megumi is a cutie, Megumi is a mama’s boy, reader works at a flower shop, Hidden Baby Trope

♡ Masterlist ♡ Next

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"Shit!"

The curse slips out before you can stop it as you stumble against the narrow, overstuffed hallway leading to the backroom of your little shop.

The bulky cardboard box in your arms wobbles precariously, the scent of freshly delivered daffodils wafting up as you struggle to keep your balance. For a moment, you fear disaster—flowers crushed, stems snapped, your pride bruised—but you manage to steady yourself just in time.

"Mama, that’s a bad word."

The reprimand is calm, almost casual, but the unimpressed side-eye that follows is devastating.

Seated by the shop’s wide front window, Megumi barely spares you a glance, his small frame bathed in the golden morning light. The sun catches in his dark lashes, making his ever-serious little face all the more heartbreakingly adorable.

You groan, already rubbing a hand down your face. "Damn—Yes, Megumi, I’m sorry." You cut yourself off before another curse can slip out, exhaling as you set the box down with a dull thud. Any more near-disasters like that, and you might actually break a hip.

Some mornings, you wake up feeling twice your age, your body aching from years of hauling flower crates, bending over counters, and chasing after an endlessly curious toddler. The weariness settles into your bones, a quiet reminder of just how much you juggle between running a business and raising a child on your own.

But then you glance at Megumi.

He sits by the shop window, his small fingers tracing absentminded patterns against the glass, bathed in the golden morning light. The soft glow highlights the curve of his cheeks, the thoughtful furrow of his brows as he watches the world outside. Your exhaustion melts just a little. You’d do it all over again—every sleepless night, every aching muscle—without hesitation.

Outside, the city hums with life. A gentle breeze rustles through the trees lining the sidewalk, carrying the scent of fresh flowers and warm pavement.

People stroll past, their neutral expressions softening into fond smiles when they catch sight of Megumi. A few wave through the window, but true to his nature, he merely blinks at them—stoic as ever—before returning to his quiet observations.

"Say, Megumi, what do you want for lunch today, hm?"

He pauses, tilting his head slightly in thought. His emerald-green eyes flick up to meet yours, considering, before he declares with certainty: "Dino nuggets."

You blink. "Dino nuggets? Again? But we just had them yesterday."

"Yeah," he says simply, as if that should be enough to end the discussion.

"Megumi, we can’t eat chicken nuggets every day. That’s not a balanced diet."

He frowns, tiny arms crossing. "I balanced it with fries."

You press your lips together, fighting back a snort. "That’s not how it works, honey. If you eat too many, a stomach bug might get you before bedtime."

He huffs, brows knitting together in frustration. "But dino nuggets make me feel good. And stomach bugs aren’t real."

That does it—you actually snort this time, biting down a laugh. Megumi’s sharp little side-eye nearly makes you lose it again.

"Okay, okay. How about this? We get pizza next door instead." You know it’s not the healthiest swap, but hey, at least it’s better than microwaved dino nuggets… right?

Megumi doesn’t look convinced at first, his small fingers still resting on the window as if debating whether or not this betrayal is worth arguing over. Then, his gaze flickers to you, studying your expression.

"Hmm." He makes a show of thinking before relenting with a dramatic sigh. "Okay… but I want ice cream too."

You shake your head with a chuckle. 

With Megumi’s small hand tucked in yours, you push open the door to your store, the little bell above jingling softly as you step outside.

The late morning air greets you with a mix of warm sunshine and the faint scent of blooming flowers from your storefront display. The city hums around you—distant chatter, the occasional honk of a car horn, the rhythmic click of hurried footsteps on pavement.

Megumi stays close to your side as you walk the short distance next door, his tiny fingers gripping yours like second nature.

The pizzeria is a familiar comfort—Tano’s Pizza, a cozy little hole-in-the-wall with a chalkboard menu propped just outside.

The scent of fresh dough, bubbling cheese, and roasted garlic drifts through the slightly propped-open door, instantly making Megumi's stomach grumble.

You push inside, stepping onto worn wooden floors that creak softly underfoot. The walls are lined with framed newspaper clippings and faded photographs—snapshots of the restaurant through the decades.

At the front, a glass display case showcases bubbling slices fresh from the oven, the cheese still glistening under the heat lamps. Behind the counter stands a young employee, dressed in a slightly oversized apron and adjusting his cap as he notices the two of you walk in.

"Ah, it’s Megumi-kun!" the worker says, his voice light with familiarity. "Back again, huh? You’ve got good taste."

Megumi, naturally, doesn’t respond. He merely stares up at the man, then tilts his head ever so slightly.

The employee chuckles, undeterred. "Still not much of a talker, huh? No worries—let’s see if today’s pizza can win a word out of you."

You smile, ruffling Megumi’s hair. "He’s getting there. Slowly. Anyway, we’ll take two slices—one cheese, one pepperoni."

"And ice cream," Megumi adds, very seriously.

You sigh, shaking your head. "We’ll talk about that later."

The employee grins, already sliding two hot slices onto plates. You guide Megumi toward a corner booth by the window, the worn red leather seats creaking as you both settle in.

He swings his little legs beneath the table, fingers drumming idly against the surface as he watches the worker prepare the slices.

"Mama," he says after a moment, his voice quieter now, thoughtful.

"Hm?" You glance at him, mid-reach for a napkin.

"Pizza is better than dino nuggets."

You pause, blinking. Then, you huff a quiet laugh. "Oh? So all that fuss before was for nothing?"

Some days are exhausting. Some days, you wonder how you manage it all—balancing work, life, and motherhood like you’re walking a tightrope with no safety net.

But moments like this?

They make it all worth it.

The daytime sun streams through the wide windows, casting a soft glow over the checkered tile floor.

You take a sip of your drink, letting yourself relax, just for a moment.

Then the doorbell jingles.

It’s an unremarkable sound, the same chime that’s rung a dozen times since you sat down, but this time, when you naturally glance up, the air in your lungs turns to stone.

Two tall figures stroll in like they own the place. Crisp suits, easy smiles, and voices that haven’t changed a bit.

“God, Suguru, I’m starving,” the white-haired one groans, a hand resting lazily on his stomach as they walk toward the counter.

Satoru and Suguru.

Two ghosts from your past, standing just a few feet away, like time hadn’t torn a canyon between you.

It’s been five years. Five years since they dropped you as easily as an old habit. Five years since they picked a side that was never yours to begin with.

They were always Toji’s friends first, you knew that, but still—being discarded so effortlessly after your breakup stung in a way you’d never admit out loud.

Megumi notices the shift immediately.

“Mama? What’s wrong?” His voice is quiet, but his brows pinch, his little body instinctively leaning against yours. Then, as if sensing something deeper, he scoots closer, resting his head against your side. His small hand clutches your shirt.

You want to curse the gods for making Megumi such an incredibly perceptive child, but at the same time, you want to thank them for giving you the sweetest boy imaginable.

No, really—you could start crying at the way his tiny fingers grip your shirt, like he already knows you need the comfort more than he does.

You clear your throat, ducking your head as if looking away will make them disappear. “Nothing, honey,” you murmur, smoothing a hand over his hair. “Just thought I recognized someone.”

A white lie. A harmless one. But your pulse won’t settle, and your fingers curl against the tabletop.

Because you don’t just recognize them. You know them.

You remember the unanswered calls, the ignored texts—the way they never once gave you a way to reach Toji when you needed him most. They didn’t know you were pregnant, sure. But even now, after all these years, the resentment bubbles up like something toxic in your chest.

And worst of all? If they see Megumi, they’ll know.

It wouldn’t take a genius to put the pieces together.

The kid is practically a carbon copy of his father—God, if you hadn’t been in the delivery room, you might’ve thought Toji had just spawned him into existence himself.

Your anxiety spikes as your mind races ahead, spiraling through every worst-case scenario.

Those striking emerald eyes you love so much? They’re just a smaller, rounder version of the ones you used to get lost in years ago.

And their smiles—though rare—mirror each other’s perfectly, down to the sharp curve of their lips.Maybe, just maybe, Megumi inherited your nose.

It’s a weak thought, flimsy and desperate. Because deep down, you know that in a few years, as he grows, his resemblance to Toji will only become more undeniable.

You swallow hard and exhale through your nose, forcing yourself to stay calm.

You just have to get through this meal. Get Megumi home. And pray that today isn’t the day the past comes knocking.

⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖

To be continued, after the completion of Blooming Hearts !

[arabella0001]

my maladaptive dreaming kicking in

cn: just fluff, marriage&kids

you and satoru have only been apart for two days while he’s away on a mission with his students, but you already feel the weight of his absence. you reassured him multiple times that it was okay for him to go, even though he tends to overreact when it comes to how you’re feeling after delivering your second baby. and while you’re so grateful for all the love and support he’s given you, today was a rough day.

your two-month-old baby has been feeling worse than usual, crying inconsolably because of stomach pain. you’d hoped your seven-year-old daughter—who adores the baby—would be her usual patient self. but today, she threw a tantrum, refusing to listen to anything you said. all the while, the baby cried endlessly, and you didn’t even have a second to take care of yourself—your face was still unwashed, and the postnatal pain was nagging at you. your emotions felt completely out of control.

when satoru finally came home that evening, he called out softly, “sweetheart?” raising an eyebrow as he looked over at your daughter, his expression playful but concerned.

you didn’t greet him, didn’t kiss him, didn’t say a word. instead, you rushed to the bathroom, locking the door behind you and leaning against it as you tried to steady your breathing.

“baby, what’s going on?” he asked, his tone gentle.

“just... leave me alone for a second, satoru,” you managed to say through the door.

there was a brief pause before you heard his dramatic surrender, raising his hands “of course, my lovely wife. take all the time you need.”

he turned his attention to your daughter, crouching in front of her and noticing her pouty expression—one that reminded him so much of yours.

“hey, my little one,” he said softly, brushing her hair out of her face. “remember what i told you? let’s not make mommy sad, okay? when mommy’s sad, daddy gets sad too. she’s working so hard, so why don’t we work together to cheer her up, yeah?”

meanwhile, you sat on the cold bathroom floor, fighting back tears and guilt. you’d convinced yourself today would be easier—that your baby’s discomfort would ease up, that your daughter would be more patient, that everything would go smoothly. instead, nothing had gone right, and the pressure felt suffocating.

in the living room, satoru stayed busy. he played with your daughter, making her laugh again, or checked on the baby, gently rocking him in his tiny bed. but he couldn’t help glancing at the bathroom door, his usual playful expression fading into something more serious. he drummed his fingers against the couch, bit his nails as he stared beneath the rim of his glasses.

the second you stepped out of the bathroom, he was on his feet. his worried expression softened into a small smile as he walked up to you.

“my pretty wife,” he murmured, placing a hand on your back and pulling you close. “what happened? talk to me.”

“it’s okay, satoru. i’m sorry. let’s just—”

“no, no, no,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “we don’t do that here.” he led you to the bed, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap.

“talk to me,” he said again, his voice so gentle as you hesitated, looking anywhere but at him, but the moment your eyes met his, the tears started to fall, making his eyes widen a little.

“i’m so sorry, satoru,” you whispered, voice cracking. “i don’t want you to think i’m too dependent on you. i know how much i wanted you to keep working, and—”

“hey, stop,” he said softly, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb brushed away your tears. “do you really think i’d ever feel that way about you having a bad day? i know how much you’re dealing with. and our feisty little girl?” he chuckled. “she’s not easy to handle, especially when you’re on your own. what can i say? she’s both of us combined.”

you let out a weak laugh, tears still slipping down your face.

“and listen to me,” he continued, his voice serious. “you’re not less of a mother if you call the babysitter to help out when i’m away, okay? you’re an amazing, strong, intelligent woman—and, might i add, incredibly beautiful,” he teased, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling faintly.

“but i need you to take care of yourself too. your body’s still healing, and you need time to breathe, especially when i’m not here to remind you. promise me you’ll let someone help next time?”

you nodded slowly. “i know, but—”

“no ‘buts.’” he pressed a finger to your lips. “don’t talk about my wife like that. have a little faith in her, like i do, yeah?” he kissed your temple, the warmth of his touch calming you.

“okay,” you whispered, sniffing.

“good.” he stood suddenly, scooping you into his arms and starting to walk.

“now,” he said with a grin, “let’s relax for a bit. i’m running you a bath.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into his chest with a content sigh. “i love you so much, you don’t even understand.”

he chuckled softly, pressing another kiss to your temple. “oh, sweetheart, believe me—I do. because i love you just as much.”

[dayndream]

✶ FLOWERS FOR YOU

Fluff ft. Childe, Xiao, Neuvillette x gn reader.

⊹ CHILDE :

This man always looks for the prettiest flowers at every single floral shop he encounters whenever he gets the opportunity. Even if he is on a mission, he would never stop thinking about you; it would simply be impossible for him. Therefore, no matter how difficult things might become for him, he would always be doing his best to make some spare time in order to get souvenirs for you and his family on every mission trip he has to attend.

For him, the so-called "prettiest flowers" he is diligently searching for are nothing less, and nothing more, than the ones that remind him the most of you, considering you the literal personification of beauty itself.

When he is finally able to see you again after what you both felt like was a whole eternity—only a few days—he catches you in his strong arms, hugging you as deeply as it was physically possible, wanting to stay like that just a little longer before kissing your lips fondly.

"I missed you like crazy, my love. I really needed to see you, to feel you," he says, smiling while giving you a loving stare right into your eyes, the same eyes he would do anything for, admiring them as if they had hidden stars and galaxies. Without letting another second slip, he decided to show you what he was holding behind your back, leaving his other arm still around you. "Thought you'd like them. They're almost as charming as you, right?"

A bright smile danced across his lips before getting gently pressed against your forehead; a kiss full of warmth and care. Slowly, his lips traced a path down to yours, leaving adorable pecks onto your cheeks before getting to your mouth. The soft pressure of his kiss lingering, cherishing every moment with you as a treasure, the most precious one.

⊹ XIAO :

His sharp gaze does not fail to notice every single detail in the area while he is patrolling the Wangshu Inn at night, and that includes even the tiniest flowers on his way. Your image runs across his mind at those moments, thinking about how endearing you are to him, just like the soft petals being washed under the silver moonlight, caressed by the nocturnal breeze.

A love-filled expression was drawn on his face when his lips gently curved into a mild smile, almost as if he was unaware of how deeply in love he is with you, but he knows; he has no doubt when it comes to you. This dark-haired man is willing to give you his whole heart at minimum, yet he is scared it might not be enough; he is convinced you deserve a lot more than that.

His fingers reach carefully for the flowers he decided to collect for you, just as if they would turn into actual dust once he touches them. A lovely gaze in his eyes as he admires the tiny blossoms now on his hands, with discreet yet meaningful whispers of a love confession—his true feelings, silently echoing in the air.

Of course he would not want to wait any longer to meet up with you, impatient to give you his cute floral present, but he would never dare to interrupt your sweet dreams while you are peacefully sleeping at night. After all, an opportunity to relax is something priceless for him; something he even forgot what it was like before swooning into the serenity you make him feel solely by your companionship.

Determined to convey to you the ethereal beauty of that very moment, he waited for the next night to be under the same moon together. His hands sweetly intertwined with yours, while his golden eyes seem unable to focus on anything but you. "I got this for you." His words were a bit measured, as always, but they held a profound affection for you.

⊹ NEUVILLETTE :

Heartfelt letters trying to express a love just as deep as the ocean, yet they never seem to be enough. His love and devotion for you are immeasurable, so even after writing down the most endearing words, nothing can truly capture its depth. He loves you endlessly, beyond what he would ever be able to demonstrate, except when his softened gaze locks with yours, almost letting you hear his heart beating loudly, as if it was going to rip out of his chest just to lay on your soft hands.

He is a man whose perceptive eyes know how to find beauty in everything; his refined taste never fails to impress you whenever he gives you something, always gifting you the most thoughtful details.

As he finished pouring his heart onto this new letter he was writing for you, he decided it would be nice to give you some pretty flowers; it was more of a habit now. He rapidly left his desk, leaving the handwritten letter folded and kept inside an elegant envelope, which stood out gracefully from all the other papers on the surface.

His attention was drawn to a decorous bouquet, but he wanted something more intimate; hence, he made a bouquet himself, carefully, meticulously. The amount of passion, time, and effort he put into anything he wanted to give you is unimaginable; only you, being the only one capable of holding his warm and sentimental heart—which was usually covered by a distant and solemn coat—could have a slight idea.

He invited you to watch together the sunset scenery at the shore, and by the time his work was finished, he felt the urge on the tip of his fingers to give you his handmade gift. His hands held the flowers and the envelope with delicacy, giving a few steps in your direction when he noticed you. A sweet smile appeared on his face at your fragrance, pressing his lips onto your cheek and going for your lips afterwards, finally giving you his love present.

© 2025 dayndream. — do not modify, repost, claim, copy or translate.

[fastandcarlos]

Meet Baby Ricciardo : ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo

summary: after welcoming your first child, you return to the paddock and introduce everyone to baby ricciardo

You smiled wide as Daniel glanced back, checking that you were still just behind him. You followed him stride for stride as he parted the crowd, allowing you to easily wheel the pram through the paddock as you headed for the garage where you could make yourselves comfortable. 

“How many visitors do you think we’re going to have today?” Daniel laughed, holding the door open for you so that you could walk in, heading straight for his driver’s room. 

You greeted a few familiar faces as you walked into the hospitality lounge before throwing yourself down on the sofa in Daniel’s room. You were already exhausted as you reminded yourself how busy the paddock was, unable to remember the last time that you were there. 

It had taken a little bit of convincing by Daniel for you to return today, your daughter in your company. He’d been pestered endlessly by the other drivers, keen to meet your daughter for the first time, unable to stall them all for any longer. 

Daniel closed the door before taking a seat beside you. “I give it five minutes before they start appearing, you know how it is around here, nothing ever stays secretive for too long.” 

“You never know, they might all be too busy getting ready for practice to come over here.” 

“No way, you’ve got no idea how excited all of them are sweetheart.” 

The two of you made yourselves comfortable, but as expected, it didn’t take long. After just a couple of minutes Daniel opened up the door to see several figures hanging around outside, desperate for their first glimpse of your little girl, someone they already adored. 

After letting you know who was outside, Daniel lifted your daughter out of her pram, handing her to you and instructing you to find a seat at one of the tables of the lounge. As you did, Daniel stepped outside to greet them all. “Do you people not have anything better to do with your time?” 

The boys all shook their heads, peering through the open door to see where you were sat. After briefing them all to be quiet, Daniel invited the group in, pointing in your direction as they all hurried over, fighting it out to be the first one to get there. 

Your smile was wide as you looked around, Oscar, Lando, Charles and Max all stood around you, their eyes bright and their mouths open in astonishment. 

“Wow, look how cute she is.” 

“You guys...she’s adorable.” 

The sound of new voices had your daughter squirming, much to the boys’ delight. “She’s so small,” Max whispered, unable to take his eyes off of her, finding his breath taken away with how tiny she was. 

Daniel took a seat beside you as the rest of the boys all pulled up chairs, sitting as close to you as possible. They couldn’t get enough as you filled them all in and introduced her properly, barely able to get a word out without them cooing over something that she did. 

“Can we have a hold?” Lando excitedly asked you, nervously extending his arms out. “I mean, only if that’s alright, I’d just love to have a cuddle.” 

“Of course,” you responded, carefully standing yourself up, moving over to where Lando was. 

A gasp came from you at how light she was as you placed her into his arms, almost scared to hold her alone with how fragile she was, struggling to keep her eyes open. 

“How did you manage to create such a beautiful daughter?” Oscar jokingly asked Daniel, able to get a much better look at her now that she was in Lando’s hold. “There’s no way she’s got any of your genes going on there.” 

“And she’s not got the nose,” Charles sniggered, feeling Daniel hit against his arm. “I’m only messing, she’d look beautiful even with your snout.” 

After a few moments Lando passed your daughter onto Max who was beside him, feeling your eyes watch over him as they passed her, still slightly terrified of something happening. “I can’t actually believe that you’re a dad,” Max smiled over in Daniel’s direction. 

Truthfully, he couldn’t quite believe it either, it absolutely felt like a pinch me moment. He was loving life to say the least, finding every day that he was learning something new about the newest lady in his life, the lady who had captured his heart from the moment that she arrived. 

Daniel hummed as he draped his arm across your shoulders. “I was never too sure on having kids, but now that she’s here, I can’t believe there was ever a moment when I wasn’t sure.” 

“We always knew you’d be a good day,” Oscar chimed in response, “you’re like an old man and an annoying older brother all in one around the paddock, the perfect qualities that you need to be a dad.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle, getting exactly what Oscar was trying to say. “He won’t like me for telling you this, but someone did actually shed a few tears too when I was in labour, well, he probably cried a river.” 

“I was not that bad!” Daniel quickly protested as the other boys sniggered at your story. “It was a pretty emotional moment; I don’t know what else to say. You guys all wait; you’ll know the feeling one day.” 

The memory of Daniel would always stick with you, he was an emotional guy, but you’d never seen him so overcome with emotion in your life. He didn’t know what to say or do as his heart raced, struggling to believe what you had done, and that his little girl was there. 

As silence descended, it was soon broken by your daughter letting go of a sneeze. A chorus of coos came from around the group again, everyone’s eyes landing on your daughter. 

“Well, that was officially the cutest sneeze I’ve ever heard.” 

Everyone quickly nodded in agreement with Lando, finding themselves falling in love all over again. “Do you reckon we can all mutually agree to just forget about having to drive a car today and spend all our day sat around here with this one instead?” 

It would’ve been nice, everyone agreed with Charles, but you knew it would never come true. However, the one you thing you were confident of was that you never needed to worry about your first trip back to the paddock as all the boys looked after you both, perfectly. 

“You better be coming to every race from now on,” Oscar warned you as you stood up to take your daughter back. “Do you know how calm I feel after sitting here? I’m going to need this relaxation before every race.” 

“I’m just coming to races for cuddles from now on.” 

“And I’m going to go and persuade Alexandra that we need a baby,” Charles added as Max finished talking. “It’s funny, she probably has no idea who any of these strange men sat around her are, does she?” 

“We’ll make sure as she can, she does,” Daniel smiled around at the four of them. “It won’t take long for her to know who her weird uncles are who drive cars around for a living.” 

“There’s nothing weird about us,” Lando protested, “although you can assure her we’ll be protective uncles who won’t let her ever go near a boy in her life.” 

“Can you please stop wishing my child’s life away?” You laughed in reply, “she’s barely a couple of weeks old, not a moody teenager about to rebel thank you.” 

Daniel smiled across at you as you spoke, “we’ve got all of this to look forward to darling.” 

“No way, she’s staying my baby forever.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reaction to their s/o forgetting your anniversary but trying to cover it up

Request: Hiii can you do OT13 reaction where you kinda forget that it's your anniversary but now you're just trying to cover it up 🫢 because you forgot? 🧍🏻‍♀️ What's their reaction? THANKSSSS

A/N: LMFAOOOO this is so funny 😭 where do you guys even get these ideas. Y'all are better at scenarios than I'm at my delusions

Figures it out immediately but plays along — Jeonghan, Joshua, Seungkwan

He knew you forgot the moment you greeted him like it was just any other day because knowing you, that's not how you're supposed to act if you remembered. That's not how you're with him, yk? But he says nothing. Watches you with a tiny smirk all morning. Then, when you suddenly start acting extra sweet, bringing snacks and saying “you’re the best boyfriend ever,” he just raises an eyebrow. “Hmm. You remembered… right?” You freeze and he’s already laughing, pulling you in for a hug like, “You’re cute.” He teases you endlessly, but deep down he thinks your panicked efforts are just so so adorable.

Genuinely thinks he forgot — Hoshi, Dokyeom, Mingyu

You start acting weirdly romantic out of nowhere and he kinda starts overthinking. “Wait… did I forget something?” You’re like “Nope! Just wanted to surprise you for… our anniversary! Haha!” and he gasps. “OH MY GOD. I’M THE WORST.” Now he’s overcompensating and trying to buy you flowers, apologizing, spiraling, all while you’re internally sobbing because he was the one who remembered first and you just made him misunderstand thinking it's not you guys anniversary BECAUSE YOU WERE ACTING NORMAL IN THE BEGINNING AND HE WAS TRYING TO REMEMBER WHEN ACTUALLY IS THE ANNIVERSARY 😭 Eventually, when you admit it, he’s like “WAIT—YOU FORGOT??” and then collapses from emotional whiplash you gave to this poor innocent soul.

Kinda hurt but doesn’t make a big deal — Wonwoo, Woozi, Minghao

He was looking forward to today. Even had something small planned, maybe a sweet day out or a gift. So when you go the whole morning like it’s nothing, it stings just a little. But he brushes it off. When you finally remember and try to play it off with “I was just building up the surprise,” he gives you a look; not angry, just a little disappointed [not much, dw]. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to forget.” You have to make it up to him with a thoughtful gesture and extra cuddles and hugs and kisses, and eventually he softens. He always does.

Heartbroken for five seconds, then clingy about it forever — Seungcheol, Jun, Vernon

When he realizes you forgot, his expression drops immediately. “You really didn’t remember…?” He tries not to make it a big thing, but he’s so obviously hurt 😭 Once you start panicking and feeling bad and trying to fix it, he forgives you instantly, but he’s going to be clingy about it for weeks. “Hey, remember that you forgot our anniversary last week? Yeah, me too. Just checking.” He doesn’t need flowers or a gift. He just wants to feel like you treasure him as much as he treasures you. So when you kiss his cheek and say, “You’re my favorite person,” everyday, he melts. Just shower him with love because he craves it and he loves you sooooo much that even this incident is an excuse for him to extra attention lmao. Just cave in already.

Didn’t remember either but pretends he did — Dino

You realize too late and immediately start overcompensating. “Heyyy baby I made breakfast and I also lit a candle and also you’re my everything and also—” Meanwhile, he’s panicking internally because he forgot too. “Oh! Yeah, I knew it was today! Totally. Definitely. Yup.” It becomes a standoff of fake confidence and over-the-top gestures until one of you breaks and admits it. You both end up laughing on the couch, sharing one dessert and saying, “Okay, we’ll be better next year.”

[animekpopsimp]

Hi, can I make a request where Reader is a Yapper and Genshin (S/O) was busy, then Reader stopped talking cuz she thought that Genshin (S/O) wasn't listening, but they confirms that they're actually listening by answering the thing she was talking about??

Genshin Men x Talkative Reader

You have the tendency to talk a lot, and you sometimes think it annoys your boyfriend. One day, you think he isn't listening, but when he responds, you realize he's been listening to you the whole time.

Diluc

You had gone silent, thinking Diluc had been ignoring you the whole time. A small frown appeared on your face, thinking Diluc was growing annoyed by your talkative nature. However, you noticed a small smile stretching across his face as Diluc turned to face you. There was a soft look on his face as he effortlessly continued talking about the same topic you had been rambling about before. You couldn't help but smile as he silently urged you to continue, he could never be annoyed with you.

Kaeya

Kaeya had a drink in his hand as he sat next to you, he had a small smile on his face as you talked endlessly. Though he didn't respond, he still listened to every word that came out of your mouth. He always found you adorable, even if you did tend to talk a lot. Part of you had worried that he would be annoyed by it, but he had always reassured you that you could talk as much as you want, and he would always listen.

Zhongli

Zhongli sat across from you with a soft smile on his face as the two of you enjoyed some tea together. You almost continued talking, but paused for a moment. Looking up at Zhongli, you noticed that he wasn't responding.

"Why did you stop talking?" He asked, still smiling. You were silent for a moment. You wanted to admit that you were scared that you had annoyed him, but it was clear that he wasn't. You simply continued talking, knowing Zhongli didn't mind listening to you ramble about your favorite topics.

Xiao

Sitting next to Xiao on the top floor of Wangshu Inn, you began telling your boyfriend about your day. He didn't say anything in response, simply humming and nodding on occasion. You stopped for a moment, looking over at him. Noticing that you had stopped talking, Xiao looked over at you, a tiny smile that you barely noticed appearing on his face. He gently placed his hang over yours,

"you can keep talking" he spoke, his voice soft. Your heart felt warm, knowing he would happily listen to you speaking for hours.

Neuvillette

Sitting in your husband's office, you had begun to ramble without even realizing it, a habit Neuvillette found adorable. He smiled softly as he continued to listen to what you were talking about. Hearing you speak with such passion was enjoyable. Suddenly, you stopped. Looking up, he saw that you were staring at him with a small frown on your face.

"Is something wrong?" He asked in a comforting voice.

"Am I annoying?" You suddenly asked, Neuvillette didn't say anything, he stood up from his desk and walked over to you. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on your forehead, making you blush.

"Of course not, keep talking" he told you.

[st4rg8te]

A Captured Dragon (BL)

Yandere! Half-brother X Crown Prince! Reader

[tw: graphic depiction(s) of violence, obsessive behaviour, betrayal, imprisonment, gaslighting, non-con kissing, incest!!!, teeny tiny bit of feminization]

✦✧✦✧

“You have done nothing to deserve that title. You were only lucky enough to be born the King’s son.”

A lot of things in life were beyond your control. 

But fate had been kind to you, gifting you a life that most could only dream of. Born into the royal family as their beloved Crown Prince, the world bent to your will from the very moment you drew your first breath. 

Spoiled, indulged, and never once tested by struggle—perhaps you were destined to fall from the start.

✦✧✦✧

✦✧✦✧

It’s getting harder to tell the days apart.

The world around you blurs into a cycle of sleepless nights. Your mind is a fog, heavy with the weight of guilt and fear. Each hour blends into the next, until time itself feels like a punishment.

The nightmares don’t help either.

Every time you close your eyes, they come—haunting, vivid dreams where blood stains the corridors and screams pierce the air. The sounds of blades slicing through flesh, of bodies collapsing onto blood-soaked floors, echo endlessly in your ears. It is relentless. 

You see the palace engulfed in flames, your servants and people—those you’ve known your entire life—crying out in terror as they are cut down by the cold steel of soldiers.

In every dream, you stand helpless, watching as they beg for mercy. Your people reach for you in desperation, their faces twisted in agony, but you can’t move. 

In every dream, at the center of it all, is him.

Daewon.

Your half-brother.

While you grew up in the limelight, basking in the affections and adoration of others, your half-brother was cast into the shadows. Born from a lowly maid, his very existence was a blemish on the royal family's image. He was the son who would never be acknowledged by his father—neither loved nor remembered.

Despite that, you had treated him kindly.

When did everything go so wrong?

After the slaughter, you were taken away and imprisoned. The room you were kept in was dark and empty—there was no light, or any warmth. It was a far cry from the luxury you were used to.

Occasionally, food and water would be brought to you—a guard would come every few days, sliding bowls of stale rice and cloudy water across the floor without a word, without so much as a glance in your direction. You felt like an animal.

But worse than the silence of your captors were the visits from Daewon.

You hated those days the most.

“Brother.” His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. You can’t make out his face within the shadows.

So you bury your head further into the damp pillows, hiding from the monster in the room.

It isn’t long before you feel the bed dip under his weight, the chain on your ankle rustles against the sheets. He kneels beside you, leaning close enough for you to smell the faint traces of blood still lingering on his robe.

“You haven’t been eating,” Daewon’s voice was soft, almost tender, but you could hear the dark amusement laced beneath it. “Is the food not to your liking?”

You keep your eyes shut tight, fists clenched under the thin blankets.

It'll all be okay. Soon enough, he would leave you alone.

Cold fingers brush against your cheek, and you flinch. He chuckles at that, a low, mocking sound that makes your skin crawl.

“Did you know that these meals are what I had to eat as a child?” He whispers, his breath hot against your ears.

You briefly open your eyes, glancing at the food scattered across the floor, remnants of your earlier fit of rage—destroyed, just like everything else in your life. 

“There were many days when the servants never even came. My mother often gave me her share, just so I wouldn't starve." 

You grit your teeth—

"Why don't you just kill me already?"

The words hang in the air, and a suffocating silence stretches between you.

But then, Daewon's firm hand suddenly grips your chin, forcing you to meet his dark gaze.

“Kill you?” A cruel, guttural laugh escapes him, sending a shiver down your spine. “But death would be far too easy.” 

“No... you have to live. You’ll live and endure. Just like I did.”

He had lived a life of invisibility, where no one cared to look beyond the stain of his tainted blood—no one, except you.

And the thought of it drives him mad.

His hand falls from your chin, trailing down until it rests against your chest. With that simple touch, your spirit breaks just a little more.

You hate him—hate him more than you’ve ever hated anyone. 

Without any warning, you feel the press of his soft lips against your own. His body heat seeps into yours as he forcefully pulls you closer and presses you flush against him.

You are too tired, too hungry to resist.

"No, stop—" You protest breathlessly, the words barely escaping your lips as your mind reels, still foggy from the kiss. A dizzying mix of shock, confusion, and disgust floods your senses.

"This is wrong, we can't—"

"They will never fully accept a half-blooded bastard like me as their king."

“What?” You swallow hard, blinking up at the man.

"But surely, they'll accept a 'bride' from the royal family.”

The realization hits you like a punch to the gut. 

Before you can react, his lips crash against yours again, harder this time, more possessive. The taste of him—bitterness and control—invades your senses completely.

A twisted smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and you finally understand.

This is a debt of suffering, a price he intends to collect over and over—until you were broken.

"Don’t worry. For everything you’ve done for me, I'll repay your kindness tenfold."

✦✧✦✧

[A/N]

This was not proofread, sorry for any mistakes!

[mzyjxu]

Part: 1, 2, 3, 5

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Every few days, Satoru would show up at your door, not with bruises, but with a paper bag rustling with kitten formula, treats, a tiny pink collar with a bell, or a small toy mouse Lady Purrshia would play with in Satoru's presence! (he got jealous and secretly slid it between the couch, he thinks you have no idea but you did watch him being a menace)

One night, he knocked with a bag of premium wet food and declared, “Child support.”

You blinked at him. “Huh?”

He held up the bag like he was shooting for an advertisement. “You’re raising our daughter alone. I’m just doing my part.”

You rolled her eyes, laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”

No matter how crazy he was Lady Purrshia adored him. She’d go full baby mode around him, curling up in the crook of his arm, mewling at his attention, shyly showing him her stomach for pets, purring like she’d swallowed an engine.

And maybe you did too, a little. Not purr. But soften around him.

It felt easy. Safe. Comfortable.

"Now, why is my princess still making biscuits?" he picked her up and sat on the couch. "Is mama making you do extra work at the bakery?" he asked her, holding her in front of his face.

"That's child labour Toru, just accept that your child loves making biscuits” you explained, giggling.

It was perfect.

Everything in the moment was perfect.

Satoru on the couch, holding Lady Purrshia close, her tiny nose pressed into his collar as she purred with absolute trust probably complaining about how you don't give her treats at every hour of the day no matter how cranky she gets, you stood in the kitchen, towel in hand, frozen mid-motion.

You realized that you were looking at him, no, you were looking at him- affectionately.

Your chest ached with a strange kind of warmth. Foreign. Familiar. Dangerous. Safe. Home.

He wasn’t doing anything remarkable, just cradling a kitten, rubbing his thumb absentmindedly along her back, eyes soft. But the way Lady Purrshia leaned into him, the way Satoru looked at her like she was a little moon orbiting his chest—

You felt it. Like something blooming in your ribcage, the same feeling you felt when you found him in front of the dumpster, when he brought Lady Purrshia home, the same damn fluttering.

You blinked. The world outside was changing, just weeks ago you met him in late September, when the sky had wept like it knew your sadness. It had rained endlessly, soaking the city in long hours of grey. You remember pulling your coat tighter around your body when you saw him for the first time, his damp jacket. You were both trying to stay warm in a season that hadn’t quite decided what it was.

Now it's mid-November, the rain had passed. The leaves had turned. Burnt amber, faded gold, soft ochre—the streets were scattered with the colors of things ending gracefully. The puddles have turned into kaleidoscope bouncing the soft sunlight. Something softer, something warmer.

He changed it. He changed your harsh rain into warm sunlight.

Maybe this was what safety looked like.

Not silence. Not stillness.

But a detective with bruised knuckles and a kitten in his lap. Everything is perfect.

Until one day he stopped coming.

On the first day, you thought he was just busy, on the second day you started feeling nervous, texting him Purrshia's pic as an excuse to see if he was fine, he didn't read it, on the third day you called him- no reply, fourth day your anxiety got worse, the feline started noticing her papa missing and mama being so restless, at night she snuggled in your chest, “I’m scared purrshie, I'm like really scared *starts crying softly* I hope.. I hope he is fine" she snuggled closer helping you to sleep.

On the fifth day, you decided that it was all stupid, you were stupid for bringing a stranger home, you were a fool for letting him come over whenever he needed help, absurd for playing house with him- raising a cat, what a nuisance you were.

You still call him every day, just to know if he is safe.

But from his side, silence. No messages. No calls. His phone rang and rang, then went dead.

You waited. Hours became days. A week passed.

By then, worry had cracked open something deeper.

.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖.☘︎ ݁˖

It was the end of a long shift. The ER was buzzing with low chaos—someone was yelling about chest pain, someone else was vomiting in the waiting area. Emergency medicine taught you to be calm as a millpond under all the chaos. You never thought that a man would make you so anxious by not picking up your calls- here you go again thinking about him.

You changed your clothes, throwing your scrubs into the resident's laundry, punching your attendance card, and signing off of your duty, debating on what to eat and the books you need for your master's exam. Then suddenly-

“Doctor, I know your shift’s over, but we’re short-staffed. Quick consult—mild trauma. No interns around.”

You sighed. Your shoulders ached. Your legs felt like concrete. But you nodded. “Its okay, I'am coming.” smiling at her.

You walked briskly into the exam room. Glanced at the chart. Gloved up.

And froze.

There he was.

Satoru.

Standing against the wall, still in his dark jacket. His face was gaunt, eyes sunken, hair disheveled like he hadn’t slept in days. Beside him sat a younger detective, wincing and clutching a bloodied shoulder. Satoru's eyes were wide when he saw you.

You internally felt like a huge rock of constant nervousness and worry had been taken off of you, now that you have seen him- safe, you decided to never get attached with anyone in you life ever again.

You stepped past him, quietly assessing the injury, gently cleaning and bandaging the wound. Your hands were steady. Efficient. Your voice calm and professional.

You didn’t even look at him.

And Satoru knew.

After you finished, you turned to the nurse. “Vitals stable. No need to admit. Discharge when he’s ready.”

"Be careful next time, you got lucky today" you adviced the younger detective, he nodded.

Then you walked out. Picked you bag and stormed out of the centre.

He followed you out of the ER, past the sliding doors and into the cool, sharp air of the parking lot.

“YN—”

You kept walking.

“YN, wait.”

You stopped. Took a deep breath. Turned around. Your eyes flashed—not angry, but hurt. So deeply hurt.

“Where were you?” your voice was low, trembling, you thought you will sound stronger but you enotions took a toll on you. “Why didn’t you pick up me calls? You disappear for a week, and you clearly have your phone with you, was texting me back really that hard?

He was silent. His hands clenched at his sides.

“Do you know how scared I was?” you whispered. “Do you?”

He took a step forward. “Please. Can we just go home? I’ll tell you everything. I swear.”

You stared at him. Your chest rose and fell with the weight of unspoken fears. Then, after a long pause, you nodded.

𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸

note: hi guys, this chapter was getting little long so i decided to cut it in two part, the next one will be here asap, thank for reading, i really appreciate ya'll, i will keep on improving, love ya~~

*TO BE CONTINUED*

[existence-is-a-pain87]

Do you have any self aware Rodger as yet? Plz ? 🥺

I did have a piece that Tumblr deleted by accident, but I can definitely make a new one!

Also, just a quick note: To ANYONE who wants to make fanart or fanpieces based off the things I make, DO IT. DO IT AND SEND ME WHATEVER YOU MAKE!

I WANNA SEE THE ART AND THINGS YOU MAKE!! ESPECIALLY IF I INSPIRED YOU!

PLEASE I BEG OF YOU ALL!!!

Detective's Work

Yandere!Self-Aware!Rodger x Reader

Warnings: Obsession and other general yandere behaviors, swearing

--☆☆☆☆☆--

Rodger was interested in you.

A player they can hear? My, how interesting!

Did that mean he liked you? No.

You were not necessarily someone he veiwed himself as liking. You were just... too excited, strangely loving, and...

Rash. Far too rash.

You blurted out whatever came to mind, endlessly spoke to those you played with in the chat, would ignore Twisteds charging at you in order to grab items.

He was interested in you, yes, but he wasn't like Goob.

He didn't like you immediately.

He actually believed you could be a danger. Perhaps you'd be cruel and only put upon a façade of gentleness. Perhaps this was you in an especially good mood.

He didn't think he would ever 'like you', per say. He would look into you, view you with hesitation and skepticism, but not like.

He swore to himself he'd never truely liked you.

He didn't realize he was lying to himself.

--☆☆☆--

He didn't like that you swore.

It didn't happen constantly, but occasionally, a cuss would fly from your mouth in fits of frustration. Especially when a Twisted came out of seemingly nowhere for you and damaged you.

Once you did that to Toodles.

For a moment, he hated you.

Then, almost instantly, you talked about how you couldn't swear to a child and immediately apologized.

Rodger liked that you took ownership of your actions and apologized when you realized you did wrong.

He started to believe perhaps you were no threat.

Perhaps you were someone he could like, if even slightly.

He kept his eye closely trained on you, which he found much easier when you played him far more than any other Toon.

You adored research as much as he did and would run around collecting it, thrilled to get more research for Toons.

He didn't admit that he liked how much you played him.

--☆☆☆--

He was the first to tweak the game.

He was the first Toon to realize they were in a game and to find the code, so is it hard to figure he was the first to learn how to tweak the game?

It was simple anyways, something no one would notice.

He made it exponentially more likely for Main Twisteds to spawn when you played him, or for Twisteds who research you wanted.

It was simple work, something barely anyone noticed.

In fact, when someone did notice, they weren't even angry, just happy to see you more.

He even went as far as forcing a Twisted Dandy to spawn when you desperately wanted to fufill the Astro requirement.

Dandy was pissed, but Rodger didn't care much.

It was simple detectives work, after all.

Anyways, Toodles really liked you. She thought you were really cool and really wanted to meet your cat.

He told himself him warming up to you was only because Toodles liked you.

He was lying to himself.

--☆☆☆--

Rodger was filling notebooks with information he gathered about you.

He's filled twelve to the brim with tiny words, and drained a number of pens.

All to contain information about you, every single piece of information unique or expanding upon pieces of information he already gathered.

He's constantly writing more based off all the information he's been able to gather about you from what you said to them or people around you when you were playing.

A while ago, Rodger learnt of Vee seeming to know significantly more about you than he did.

She didn't crack when he kept trying to interview her and learn what she knew of you that he didn't.

It frustrated him, but he didn't dare share this with everyone.

He just resumed gathering whatever information about you he could.

Then he found the microphone.

--☆☆☆--

Scraps had to stop lending Rodger pens with the amount of them he drained empty.

He wasn't too fazed. He just used your note app and transferred all his notes about you to there and hid it from you.

Rodger had stopped lying to himself about liking you at this point.

No, he loved you. Loved you to the point of obsession.

He knew it was wrong. That he was setting a bad example for Toodles. He didn't care.

To their creators and their gods, he fucking LOVED you.

Wow, now you even had him swearing when Toodles wasn't around.

To him, you were the other parent Toodles needed in her life. Supportive, gentle, and able to be much more excited and playful than he could.

He didn't even need to think long over if you'd like to play with Toodles or not.

You were not the perfect person for children, and several times you had stated you didn't want children.

But he knew he could change your mind.

Oh, even with all he knew of you, he desperately wanted to sit you down and interview you for hours. Desperately wanted to learn how you ticked, to see your little quirks face to face.

He wanted to tie you up and never let you free.

He wanted to resent you for this obsession. For you making him obsessed.

But he knew better. He knew you never meant to do this to him, you never meant for anyone to be obsessed with you.

He couldn't resent you.

He never could.

He wasn't even frustrated he never learnt why it was you they heard, and only you.

No, he was pleased.

You frustrated him occasionally, yes.

But god, he wanted to do so many things to you.

He could now admit to himself he adored you utterly and completely.

It was merely an effect of his detectives' work, after all. And he couldn't be more pleased by the mystery of you being solved.

[pleasuresofsohodolls]

⋆.ೃ - Greene!Reader

Greene!Reader who was practically Carl's guardian angel when his group first arrived at the farm - never leaving his room because he was the first person her age she had seen in months since the beginning of the apocalypse and she would've cursed the Lord above if he didn't live. Carl genuinely thought he was in heaven and she was an angel when he woke up.

Greene!Reader who is a complete mix of Beth and Maggie, given that they were the only examples of teenagers when she was younger was a rebellious brunette and a compliant blonde.

Greene!Reader who was jealous of Carl's 'crush' on Beth at the prison and would ignore him just to piss him off - even going so far as to put eggs in his cowboy hat, two things she learnt from Maggie.

Greene!Reader who is attached to the hip with Carl, wherever he is she is, and when they got to Alexandria and they had to spend time apart for more than five seconds she'd get all moody.

Greene!Reader who has Carl wrapped around her finger. She says she misses something? He is finding it. She's hungry? He's giving her half of his plate - even if she. argues. Michonne is endlessly teasing him about it but he can't find it in himself to care because he just loves her so much, she's always been there for him.

Greene!Reader who loves Glenn (in my heart he lives) and he's literally just the brother Shawn never was to her, given thirteen year age gap and all. Even though Glenn was ten years older, they liked all the same things. Video Games, Movies, he got her into skateboarding at the prison after he found one on a run, they're both equally as sarcastic as the other, and the most notable shared interest : Maggie. Although they both love her in different ways, she's their favourite person.

Greene!Reader who absolutely adores Judith. Whenever she can she's babysitting her, playing with her, holding her, anything involving Judith she is usually there. And this only makes Carl more obsessed with her, because she's so loving. She loves everything and anything cute and he feels the same way, except she's the everything and anything cute.

Greene!Reader who is obsessed with animals. When Carl told her he used to have a hamster she almost screamed, she was never allowed tiny pets like that due to living on such a large plot of land. She was always reading books with the horses back at the farm, randomly talking to foxes she finds in the woods, she's practically the apocalypse Snow White.

Greene!Reader who is always stealing Carl's clothes in the winter or to sleep in. It just brings her so much comfort to be able to smell Carl wherever she goes. Her attachment issues would probably get her into therapy in the old world.

Greene!Reader who despite being cautious and scared of every sound, loves sneaking out of Alexandria with Carl. She loves how freeing it is not being constantly watched by Maggie or Daryl. And she especially loves the amount of alone time it gives her with Carl, their first kiss was underneath their tree.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

Someone take the screen away from me I can't stop writing these 😭 I have so many different reader types for Carl in my head it's actually crazy I love this man so much 💔