#i bought a pair of shoes and this came in the box

[athenalvss]

Hey, you know, the young justice show, right? I was wondering if you can make one with like hot bombshell batmom and she visits dick at young justice league's base and like Wally and all the rest of the guys, start flirting on her.

YOUR MOM IS SUCH A MIL- ( batmom )

Summary: You didn't want to attract attention, you just wanted to spend a few minutes with your oldest son.

pairing: Dick grayson x batmom!reader

open request - dick grayson masterlist

There weren't many occasions when you went to visit Dick, the boy still lived in the mansion but perhaps spent a few weeks away busy, since the young Justice was created, and Bruce decided that his protégé was ready to work as a team, the weeks began to feel longer.

So once or twice, when your schedule wasn't jam packed with charity events, Wayne Enterprises meetings, or nights spent patrolling with Bruce, you'd indulged yourself in a quick trip to Mount Justice. Sometimes just to see him for five minutes, to leave him a gift, or other times, like today, with a small, foilwrapped box filled with those coconut cookies Alfred taught you how to make.

What you didn't expect was to cause a little chaos in the group of teenagers as soon as you set foot inside the place.

"Isn't that Mrs. Wayne? Look at her shoes, Z!" you heard someone whisper.

"It can't be his mother, she's not old enough," said another.

"Maybe the league sent her to show us something, I'd like it to be her locker room."

You turned with a friendly smile, letting your dark glasses slide down the end of your nose. "Hey girls, how are you? I'm looking for Robin."

M'gann's eyes widened, dropping the rag she'd been wiping the table with. She'd seen you several times in the magazines she'd bought about the world of entertainment, or on television when there were galas and all the cameras were waiting for Mr. and Mrs. Wayne to arrive. You were definitely more imposing in person. Zatanna giggled nervously. Her friend's mom? She was truly dazzling, and Artemis simply crossed her arms, sizing you up and down with a raised eyebrow, trying to hide her surprise at your arrival.

"I knew it was you!" Zatanna exclaimed, delighted. "Wow... Mrs. Wayne, it's a pleasure."

“And a sight,” Artemis muttered under her breath.

Behind you, a burst of speed announced the arrival of Wally, his hair tousled and his expression ecstatic. "I knew it was your perfume" he said breathlessly, stopping right in front of you. "How are you, Mrs. Wayne?"

You smiled at him with the same warmth you used years ago to serve him hot chocolate in the mansion's kitchen. "Oh, Wally boy, I'm doing great. Thanks for asking. How have you been?"

Wally smiled like he'd won the lottery. "Better now, definitely better now that I see her."

Dick arrived just in time to stop the conversation before it escalated, as always. His gaze flicked from you to Wally and back to you, visibly irritated… and blushing. "Flirting with my mom again? Go away."

Wally threw up his hands as if he were innocent of it all. "Hey! I'm not flirting, I'm being cordial, polite, im appreciating your mom, bro"

"Take your words back, she doesn't want you to like her," Dick muttered, crossing his arms. "Do you realize she's my mom? You son of a b-"

"Boys..." you interrupted, your voice soft, but enough to silence both of them immediately. You walked over to Dick and gently smoothed back a strand of his unruly hair. "Don't fight with your friend over me. I came to visit you, and it's too early for a jealous scene."

"I'm not jealous!" he said, almost indignantly.

"Okay, enough with the drama," Wally came up from the side, his expression pleading. "Can I get a pity cookie?"

"I don't know... Are you going to keep staring and saying things to my mother?" Dick snapped.

"Only the truth."

"Then no."

M'gann appeared at the side of the table, smiling curiously. "What are the cookies made of?"

"It only have coconut and love," you replied, opening the box and showing the perfectly arranged cookies.

Zatanna came over too, intrigued. “Wow. Did you make these?”

"Some of them are mine. Others… Alfred, obviously the best ones are Alfred's."

Wally sniffed from a distance. “Is that… coconut with white chocolate chips?”

Dick squeezed the lid of the box tightly. "Don't even think about it.

"You're cruel," Wally replied, turning to you with an expression that sought mercy. "Could I at least touch the box?"

"Do you want to have both hands?

Wally paused for a second, assessing the threat and still, he reached out. "It's worth the risk."

Dick growled. "Don't touch the box."

But it was too late. You had taken a cookie and offered it to him yourself.

Wally grabbed it like it was an Olympic trophy. "I promise that... well, I don't really promise anything," he said, and brought it to his mouth before Dick could swat it away.

Dick sank into the armchair with a dramatic sigh. "Can we go back to the part where my mom came to visit me and not steal the show?"

"What's your mom's fault she's pretty?" Conner asked before popping a cookie into his mouth, completely ignoring Dick's glare.

That was the last time you visited Mount Justice at Dick's request. He truly loved you, but he preferred you not to go there. From then on, you'd see him at the mansion. Or he'd come looking for you after a mission, but you never returned to the Mount.

But never say never, even though it wasn't common for you to visit the new facilities. In fact, you hadn't done so since your son asked you to years ago.

But this time it was different. It was necessary for you to go there since your husband had asked you to carry classified information and couldn't leave the computer, so you were the only person trustworthy enough available to carry the sensitive file.

Although your clothes were more sober than before, you were still yourself. You liked comfortable clothes that didn't look like you were at home, something elegant that allowed you to feel confident. But even though you made a great effort with your appearance, the common room fell silent as soon as you entered.

"Who... is that?" Bart whispered, stopping mid-comment about video games.

"Oh, Nightwing and Robin's mom"M'gann approached to look at the situation."Hello Mrs. Wayne!"

"Wow, is that their mom?" Jaime asked, his eyes wide.

You just smiled, politely and distantly. Greeting the team was quick, efficient, maternal, yet professional. You handed the sealed envelope to Kaldur, and when you saw Dick appear in the hallway, you gave him the same gentle smile as always.

"I didn't know you were coming," he said to you in a low voice as he approached.

"Bruce didn't have many options available to him," you replied. "So here I am."

"Yes, it shows, Mom."

You spent a few minutes talking with him. Not much. Just enough to catch up. You asked him if he was eating well, if he was sleeping at least five hours, if he was talking to Alfred more often. He pretended to be bothered by the questions, but he didn't take his eyes off you; he had a pending visit at the mansion.

When it was time to leave, you walked back toward the Zeta Tube without rushing. Dick accompanied you for a few meters.

"Thanks for coming," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I know you don't like being in the middle of all this."

"I don't mind," you said. "I just don't want to inconvenience you."

Dick smiled faintly. "You don't. At least the rest didn't show up."

You stroked his face with your fingers, just like when he was ten. "You have a good team, and you're doing a good job."

Dick blushed, as if he hadn't expected to hear that from you. He looked down and nodded. "I'll call you tomorrow" he promised.

"I hope so." And you were gone, the sound of the Zeta Tube filling the room for a second, and then, nothing. Silence.

Just at that moment, the side door opened.

Wally and Conner entered, carrying bags of food and chatting animatedly. They both stopped when they saw the blue light trail from the portal dissipate.

"Who left?" Conner asked, putting the food on the table.

"Was it... a visitor?" Wally raised his eyebrows, turning to face the group. "Don't tell me your mother finally came!"

Jaime nodded, trying not to laugh. "Three seconds ago. He was here."

Conner turned to Dick. “Was that your mom? She looks… prettier than last time.”

Dick glared at him. “Conner…”

But it was too late.

"Yeah, dude. Your mom's such a milf" Wally said cheerfully, as if he'd just made the most harmless comment in the world.

Dick froze for a second, until he exploded. "WHAT DID YOU SAY!?"

"THAT'S A COMPLIMENT!" Wally shouted, backing away.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" Dick launched himself after him without a second thought.

Wally was already running, but he was laughing. "Say it with pride, bro!"

The shouting moved away through the corridors at an absurd speed.

Conner looked at the rest of the group. "I just said she looked pretty."

Tim sighed. “Can we just agree that no one else talks about our Mother? Thanks.”

“Still… your mom is gorgeous,” Cassie murmured with a smile.

And from the hallway, an angry voice shouted, “DON’T CALL MY MOTHER A MILF!”

[szatears]

Modern SmokeStack twins with girly reader who loves the color pink and lace trim

pretty in pink, smoke & stack moore.

summary: you don't just wear pink on wednesdays, you own pink. and your boyfriend absolutely adores it.

pairings: modernau!smoke x blackfem!reader, modernau!stack x blackfem!reader.

warnings: established relationship, not really but kinda bimbo!reader, weed use, not proofread.

notes: i was gonna do this in the form of a headcanon but it was so messy 💔 also this isn't smoke x reader x stack but rather two separate x reader blurbs for both brothers!

STACK first noticed your love for the colour pink when the two of you were getting ready for dinner with Smoke and Annie one night. He was already dressed, waiting on you downstairs with his phone in his hand

He could hear you huffing and puffing, the sound of clothes on hangers rattling around in the closet. He frowned, getting up and walking to the bedroom, where he found you in the middle of your walk in closet, a matching frown on your face.

Your clothes were strewn all around, the result of you trying to find an appropriate outfit for the occasion. He took one look at the mess and then back at you. "What's got you all worked up, hm?" He asked, as if he couldn't put two and two together himself.

You turned to face him, his arm outstretched and leaning against the doorframe. "I can't find anything to wear," you shrugged, running your eyes over your boyfriend's outfit. He wore all black, a fitted and collared polo tee with black slacks that just about covered the pair of his beloved Jordan 4's that he wore.

"Well," he started, his head nodding towards the piles of clothes. "You got loads to pick from. Show me your favourites."

You smiled when he walked in to sit on the edge of the bed, giving you his undivided attention.

"Okay, so there's this," you started off with a baby pink co ord set, an off the shoulder top paired with a bodycon-like skirt. Stack's eyes lit up a little at it, giving you a nod.

"Or this," next was a light pink dress that went all the way down to your ankles, held together by thin straps over your shoulders. It's silky and lace material was what won you over at the store you bought it in, going so well with your aesthetic.

"You love pink, don't you, baby?" Stack smiled at you, looking around at the floor that appeared very pink what with your clothes all over it.

You smiled, knowing it had been your favourite colour for what felt like forever. "I like that dress. Like the lace," he fiddled with it as he spoke to you, and you nodded, running to put it on.

From that point on, Stack made it his duty to buy you anything pink that he thought you'd like. Especially if it was lacy. It started with a few trinkets, hair clips and bracelets and rings that he would get from his various business trips across the globe. Then it was bags and shoes, and then when he felt confident enough, clothes.

You usually shopped for yourself, knowing exactly what you liked, But ever the listener he was, Stack basically knew what you liked and disliked at this point, enough to be able to buy surprises for you.

His favourite thing though? The lingerie stores.

He had to admit at first, it did feel a bit odd going inside one without you there with him, but he realised that the look on your face would so be worth it.

One day, he came back to you with a couple of bags from your favourite stores. He watched with a smile on your face as you tried everything on, kissing all over his face and gushing over them.

When you finally opened the last box, revealing the pink, thin and lacy material you were accustomed to, your lips tipped up into a smirk, twirling the bra around your finger.

"So this is why you love me in pink and lace, hm?"

"I mean," Stack slid back into a more manspreading position on the sofa. "If you like it, I love it."

It became a thing, him buying you all these pink things. Its like he was starting to love pink more than you did.

SMOKE had always known you loved pink. He was attentive like that. Also it's not like he could ignore it, your shared house was almost covered in pink.

Pink vases, pink mugs, pink pillows... you name it. He didn't mind, didn't make a fuss about it. Happy wife, happy life after all. What he really found fascinating, though, was how you bought even the little things in pink.

Take one Thursday evening for example. Smoke came home to you all worn out and cranky from work, something about meetings after meetings and a few missing shipments. You knew on days like this he needed comfort, perhaps a lot of it.

He sat on the sofa, flicking through a phonebook. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind, kissing this cheek when you felt him relax in your hold.

"You feel like having some dinner?" your voice was soft, heavily contrasting the day he'd had, yet it was just what he needed in that moment.

He shook his head, placing the phonebook onto the coffee table. "Nah, baby, I'll have some later. I need a blunt right now."

He was about to get up to grab the box of prerolls that you both kept in a secret cabinet in the kitchen, put your hands on his shoulders prevented him.

"I'll get it. You gon' head outside?"

He nodded, and you made your way to the prerolls at the same time he headed to the garden, the designated smoking area.

When you headed through the screendoors with the old tin box in your hand, you found him laying on the lounge chair, his eyes closed.

Your feet shuffling towards him had his eyes cutting open to you. He held his hand out for you, pulling you to sit in his lap, your thighs on either side of his. He took the box from your hand, lifting himself up a little to take his lighter out of his pocket.

He chuckled to himself when he realised it was the pink lighter you got for him, his initials engraved into it. Same lighter that had his boys clowning him whenever he got it out to light a cigarette. When he opened the box to retrieve a blunt, his hands stopped as he stared at the contents of it.

"Baby."

"Hm?" you stopped swatting the humid air around you.

"Where my blunts go?"

"What do you mean?" They're there."

"What happened to the wrapping paper i used for 'em?"

"Elijah, are you okay? I'on think you should be smoking if your head hurts or whatever..."

Smoke held up a preroll for you to see. "They're pink."

"Well, yes." You said, like it was normal.

"I could've sworn the other day, as in two days ago, these was a cream typa colour."

You shrugged, a small smile on your face. "Maybe you're remembering wrong. Plus it's cute, no?"

He shook his head, lighting the blunt up and closing the box. He took a long drag, throwing his head back as he exhaled, your fingers running soothingly along his collarbone and neck.

He offered the blunt to you, eyes never leaving your face as you took a hit. You pulled his face towards you, letting the smoke out of your mouth at the same time his lips pressed against yours, that low hum in his throat turning you on more and more.

He pulled away from the kiss to take the blunt back from you, shaking his head again at how he was literally smoking a pink blunt. He didn't even know that was a thing.

You were always getting him to do things he never expected he'd ever be doing. Things like having a designating self care day, keeping his nails in shape and clean, wearing pink, even it was just subtle. He loved that about you, how one colour added so much brightness to your, and in turn his, life.

taglist. @childishgambinaax @abriefnirvana @blackisy2k @chrisevansmentee @siasoup @amethyst09 @heauxtales @skywalker0809 @thelightknight21 @klssngss @atomicearthquakemusic7 @oc3anbxbyxoxo @honestlyurslol @simpingfor-wakasa @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @favoritten @christinabae @junkie05 @gyattttsblog @jackierose902109 @rose-bliss @jexireads @queenofklonnie22 @tatertooted @thefirst-ofus

[casedclosedbye]

The Birthday Overload

Aaron hotchner x reader

Fluff

Wc: 1.5k

It was your birthday, and Aaron Hotchner had promised to get you something special. But what you didn’t expect was for him to get everything you might want… and then some.

You were sitting on the couch, casually scrolling through your phone, when Hotch came back into the apartment, looking slightly frazzled. His arms were weighed down with what seemed like an endless number of shopping bags.

“Hotch, you okay?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at the sight of him struggling to make his way through the door.

He sighed deeply, his usually composed demeanor faltering just slightly. "I… I might’ve gotten a little carried away," he admitted, setting the bags down with a soft grunt, clearly relieved to unload the weight.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his predicament. "What do you mean by ‘a little carried away’?"

"Well," he began, glancing at the mountain of bags, clearly weighing how to explain the madness, "I started with something simple. I thought you’d love this sweater." He pulled out a cozy-looking grey sweater. "But then I worried it might be too plain. So, I bought a pair of boots to go with it."

You eyed the boots, noticing how perfectly they complemented the sweater. Before you could even comment, he dug deeper into one of the bags. "But then I thought, maybe the boots weren’t quite your style. So I grabbed these instead."

Out came a pair of sleek, stylish shoes that could match any outfit in your closet. You stared, dumbfounded, unsure of how to respond to this growing pile of gifts.

"And then," he continued, “I realized, do you even *like* grey? So I bought this." He pulled out a rich, red scarf that contrasted sharply with the muted tones of the sweater and boots. It was elegant, and you could already picture yourself wearing it on a chilly night out.

You blinked a few times, still trying to process the sheer volume of thought he had put into this. "Aaron, you didn’t have to—"

"Oh, wait," he interrupted again, his hands diving back into the bags with renewed determination. "Then I thought you might want something more personalized, so I got you this." He pulled out a beautiful, intricately carved wooden jewelry box. "But then I worried, do you even wear enough jewelry to need a box? So I got you these."

He reached for yet another bag, pulling out two delicate bracelets that shimmered as they caught the light.

You chuckled softly, thoroughly entertained by his internal struggle and sweet yet chaotic effort. "Aaron, I love you, but how many more things did you buy?"

He paused, his expression a mix of determination and uncertainty as if he was working his way through some kind of mental checklist. "Well, I kept thinking maybe you’d want some skincare products." With that, he pulled out an assortment of creams, lotions, and face masks, all neatly packaged and looking as though they belonged in a high-end boutique. "And then," he continued, as if he’d just remembered something crucial, "I got candles. Because, you know, everyone likes candles."

More bags appeared, each one seemingly holding yet another thoughtful item. A plush scarf, a novel you’d mentioned wanting to read, a bag of your favorite snacks from the store, and, as if on cue, the exact blanket you’d been eyeing the other day when you’d made a passing comment about how soft it felt.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, overwhelmed but incredibly touched. "Aaron… I think you’ve gone above and beyond."

Hotch gave you an exasperated yet endearing look, finally sitting down beside you, clearly relieved to have finished unboxing his extensive haul. He ran a hand through his hair, his brow furrowed in mild frustration, but with a fondness for you in his eyes. "I just wanted to get you something you’d really love," he admitted, "but I couldn’t decide what you’d like the most. So… I just kept going."

You kissed his cheek softly, your heart swelling with warmth. "Well, you definitely succeeded. It’s perfect."

He smiled, still a little unsure but clearly relieved. "I’m glad," he murmured, his voice softer now. "I was really worried you wouldn’t like something or it wouldn’t be… enough." His gaze flicked to the pile of presents that now took up most of the space between you both.

You gave him a playful side-eye, though your voice was filled with affection. "Aaron, it’s my birthday. I’m pretty sure I’m going to love everything… even if it takes me a week to unpack it all."

He chuckled, his tension finally easing as he leaned in closer, resting his head against yours. "As long as you’re happy."

You snuggled against him, surrounded by shopping bags and the overwhelming feeling of being loved. Hotch’s gift-giving might have been a little over the top, but you couldn’t deny that the thought, the care, and the genuine desire to make your birthday special had come through in every item.

You felt the warmth of his affection settle around you like the softest blanket, and for the first time in a long while, you simply *relished* in the moment. This wasn’t about the presents or the excessive effort; it was about his commitment to making sure you felt appreciated, to ensuring you were happy, no matter how many bags it took to do that.

The pile of gifts scattered around you was just a symbol of how much Aaron cared, a reminder that love wasn’t always about grand gestures, but sometimes, about going overboard to show someone they meant the world to you. And right now, you couldn’t think of a better way to spend your birthday than in his arms, feeling more loved than you’d ever felt before.

You leaned back into him, content and at peace, knowing that no matter how many presents you opened, the best gift was always going to be him.

[shesgaymichaelscott]

Hiii I love your work! I have a reader x Melissa request if you’re okay with that. Reader is pining after Melissa (who doesn’t know) but Mel (mutual pining?) is with the fire captain. Reader goes on a date to try to get over Mel but Melissa finds out about the date and gets jealous. Maybe Melissa sees them at a restaurant or Jacob spills the beans. Melissa is all cranky about it and reader finds out why. Something along those lines! Honestly I just love mutual pining hahaha

Captain Who?

(SO much mutual pining, idiots secretly in love, random first date, angst, eventual smut-at the v v end)

Word Count: 5.9k

taglist <3: @writerspirit @schemmentigfs

~ The first time you realized you had feelings for Melissa Schemmenti, it wasn't a thunderclap or an epiphany.

It was quieter than that—smaller.

She'd leaned into your classroom doorway, arms crossed over her chest in that easy, amused way of hers, and teased you about your bulletin board falling off the wall mid-lesson. You were still flustered, holding up the whole laminated solar system with both hands like Atlas in sensible shoes, but she just grinned, shook her head, and walked away.

You stared at the empty doorway for a full thirty seconds longer than you should have.

It wasn't the first time she'd razzed you. You weren't even new to Abbott anymore. But that moment—it stayed.

And you, idiot that you are, let it stay.

You were the kind of fool who liked little things too much. The way Melissa's voice dipped when she was tired or affectionate. The way she'd call someone "honey" and it would feel like you'd earned something holy. The particular scrunch of her nose when she pretended not to care.

And it would've been fine. Quiet pining is sustainable. It's safe.

Except then came him.

Captain Robinson.

Tall. Confident. Decent jawline. Firefighter. The kind of man who makes moms at pickup line whisper in pairs. He met Melissa at a community fire safety presentation, and within a week, his name started showing up more than yours in her stories.

He brought her lunch once. Melissa told you he made her laugh. He helped her carry in three crates of juice boxes one afternoon and kissed her temple before leaving.

You'd gone home and scrubbed your kitchen tiles on your hands and knees until your arms ached.

Melissa didn't talk about him often. Not in that giddy, oversharing kind of way. But he was there—in little glimpses, in a new necklace she said he bought her, in a few mornings where she showed up with wet hair and a satisfied kind of smirk that made your heart hurt.

You tried to be happy for her. Truly. She looked... safe with him. Relaxed.

But then there were the other moments.

The way her gaze lingered on you when she thought you weren't looking. The softness when she handed you coffee without asking. That time she saw you shivering in the parking lot and wordlessly wrapped you in her own scarf—and kept her hand on your back a second too long.

It made your head spin. And it made you angry. Because if she wanted you—why didn't she do something?

Instead, you were stuck in a weird purgatory. Halfway between being her coworker and her almost-could be-something. Meanwhile, she had a firefighter with a beer belly and a stable retirement plan.

"You need to go on a date." Jacob said it during lunch one Wednesday like it was a group project assignment.

You blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard him," Janine said, nodding. "You've been weird and mopey for, like, a month. Ever since Melissa started—"

"I'm not mopey," you interrupted.

Jacob gave you a long, painfully kind look over his yogurt. "You wore mismatched shoes last week."

"I was tired."

"And you nearly cried when Melissa said you were 'like family.'"

"That was contextually emotional, okay?"

Jacob patted your hand. "You deserve to be distracted by someone hot. And kind. And not currently entangled with a fireman who looks like he does intermittent fasting for sport."

You almost laughed—but it caught in your throat.

"I don't know," you muttered. "I'm not really in the mood to..."

"You don't have to marry them," Janine said gently. "Just a date. With a woman who thinks you're cute and actually wants to kiss you instead of teasing you like it's not stringing you along."

That part hit a little too close.

They set you up with someone named Riley—a friend of Jacob's from a book club that dissolved after too many arguments about The Secret History. She was pretty in an art-teacher kind of way, all expressive earrings and dry wit, with a sharp smile that promised you wouldn't be bored.

You agreed, half-dreading it, but also desperate for the ache in your chest to lessen, even by an inch.

The night of the date, you wore something simple but flattering. Something you knew Melissa liked on you. That fact haunted you in the mirror as you adjusted the neckline.

You arrived at the cozy wine bar Riley had chosen and she was already there, sipping a glass of red and smiling like you were exactly what she'd hoped for.

"You're cuter than your picture," she said as you sat down. "Is that okay to say?"

You smiled. It was nice. It was.

Conversation flowed. She was funny. She got your sarcasm. You even forgot to check your phone for nearly half an hour.

Then the bell above the door chimed.

Melissa didn't come here often.

But there she was.

Leather jacket. Perfect hair. That careless walk like she owned the room without trying.

Captain Robinson wasn't with her. She was with Kristen Marie—probably grabbing a drink after dinner or some neighborhood thing. You weren't sure.

But her eyes scanned the room lazily...

...and then stopped.

Right. On. You.

And Riley.

Sitting close, laughing, drinking wine, her hand touching your arm like it had every right to.

Melissa froze.

Not visibly. Not to anyone else. But you saw it. The way her smile twitched. The way her eyebrows lifted a fraction of a second too high.

Kristen Marie kept talking beside her, oblivious. Melissa nodded distractedly—but didn't look away.

You felt your stomach flip in the worst way.

Because she looked jealous.

And you—god help you—you liked it.

There was a booth at the far end of the bar Melissa liked—half-lit, quiet, good vantage point for people-watching. But tonight, with you just fifteen feet away under warm hanging lights and Riley laughing like you belonged to her, she picked a table far too close.

Kristen Marie was mid-sentence, spinning some ridiculous story about one of her preschoolers swallowing a LEGO head, but Melissa wasn't hearing any of it. Not really.

Because you were smiling. At someone else.

And Melissa couldn't fucking stand it.

She schooled her face into something neutral—interested, even. She nodded when Kristen Marie paused. Maybe even laughed a little too hard at a line she barely caught. But her eyes kept drifting back. Over the rim of her glass. Under her lashes. Quietly frantic.

You were doing the same thing.

Trying to act normal. Holding onto this date like a lifeline. Laughing at Riley's jokes even when they didn't quite land. Listening. Flirting, even.

But your heart was hammering too fast in your chest. You could feel her. The weight of her stare burning into your side like a slow match. And every time you dared to glance toward the bar—there she was. Beautiful, unreadable, with one hand wrapped tightly around her glass and the other clenched in her lap.

Still not alone.

Of course.

Kristen Marie caught sight of you and waved. You smiled automatically, polite and shaky. Melissa didn't wave. Her jaw twitched once. That was all.

"She's been watching you since we walked in," Riley said casually, her voice low as she sipped her drink.

Your stomach flipped.

"What?"

Riley tilted her head, eyes amused. "The redhead. I take it you know her."

You stared down into your glass. "She's... someone I work with."

"Uh huh," Riley said, leaning back, her tone playful but sharp. "And do you work with her while secretly pining like a Victorian ghost?"

You choked out a laugh, panicked. "What? No. I mean—no. Not... not anymore."

Riley raised an eyebrow. "So formerly haunted. Got it."

You stared at the candle between you like it might offer an escape.

"I don't blame you," she added after a beat. "She's hot. And currently staring at me like she wants to set me on fire."

You flinched, glanced over. Yep. Melissa was doing that thing again—masking it with a slight smile, talking with Kristen Marie, but her eyes? Laser-focused.

"She's not—jealous," you said, maybe to yourself. "She's just..."

"Watching her coworker on a date. Intently. While ignoring her own companion? Yeah, no, that's totally casual behavior."

You rolled your eyes, but your skin buzzed with nerves. Riley was too perceptive for your own good. But she wasn't wrong.

The waitress came by with the wine refill, and you forced yourself to sit up straighter, to focus.

Riley leaned in again, a little closer this time. "So. Are we making her jealous on purpose or by accident?"

You snorted, more genuinely this time. "I didn't even know she'd be here."

Riley nodded. "Then it's fate. Which means we owe it to the universe to keep going. You seem like someone who needs a push."

You blinked. "I do?"

"You look like you've been in love with someone who doesn't deserve you for, like, a decade."

You frowned. "She's not... she's not a bad person."

"I didn't say she was," Riley said, tilting her head. "I said she doesn't deserve you. If she did, she'd be sitting here instead of over there playing I Spy with your collarbone."

You couldn't help it. You laughed.

And Riley leaned in even further.

She reached across the table and rested her fingers on the back of your hand. Just lightly. Friendly. But pointed.

You could feel Melissa's gaze burn hotter than the candle.

Riley's voice dropped, soft now. "Hey. I like you. And if this is too much, we can call it. I don't want to be some rebound you regret."

"I don't—" You hesitated. "It's not like that. I wanted to be here. I'm glad I came."

"Good," Riley said, warm again. "Then let's make it worth your time."

You smiled.

But behind her, your eyes met Melissa's.

And Melissa—still seated across from her sister, still pretending not to care—was gripping her wine glass like she wanted to crush it with her bare hands.

Melissa couldn't breathe.

Okay, no, that was dramatic. She could breathe. Technically. But something felt tight in her chest. Like jealousy had snuck up on her with its hands around her ribs and squeezed.

She'd thought she could handle it.

She told herself it didn't matter when Janine mentioned you were "finally going on a date." She even smiled. Said something dumb like, "Good for her. About time."

But now? Watching you lean toward that girl—smiling, letting her touch you, looking goddamn radiant in that shirt Melissa had once complimented half-jokingly in the break room?

Nope.

She couldn't handle this.

Kristen Marie finally stopped her story and looked at her sideways. "Are you even listening?"

Melissa blinked. "Sure."

Kristen Marie raised an eyebrow. Then turned, followed her gaze, and saw you.

"Oh, that's what's happening."

"Nothing's happening."

"You look like you're one half-glass away from walking over there and dragging her out by the hand."

Melissa glared into her drink. "She's on a date."

"Yeah, I can see that. So can you. Which is why your eye is twitching."

Melissa reached up and smoothed her face automatically. "It's not."

Kristen Marie smirked. "Okay."

There was a long pause.

Riley's grin deepened, catching the shift in tension. "You know what? Let's lean into it."

You looked at her confused.

She slid her chair a little closer and whispered conspiratorially, "Let's show her what she's missing."

You swallowed but didn't pull away.

Riley reached across the table and brushed her fingers lightly against your arm, just enough to make your skin tingle. Then she flashed a devilish smile.

"I'm a pro at this," she said.

You felt yourself relax a fraction, and a smile tugged at your lips.

Riley caught the cue and dipped her head, her eyes sparkling. "So... one more drink? Or maybe two?"

You nodded, letting yourself be coaxed into the moment.

Riley ordered another round, and suddenly the air between you was charged. She laughed more freely, her hand casually resting atop yours. You responded with a subtle lean in, fingers brushing. The chemistry was electric but playful.

Meanwhile, Melissa was watching all of it—her jaw tightening, the set of her shoulders rigid as she forced herself to laugh along with Kristen Marie's commentary. Her eyes flicked to your hand touching Riley's.

You noticed, and your heart twisted. There was a pang of guilt. But also something more complicated.

When you finally decided to leave—feeling that mixture of exhilaration and exhaustion—you thanked Riley softly.

As you stood, Kristen Marie, who had been watching the entire scene with a knowing smirk, suddenly waved enthusiastically. "Hey! Over here!"

You froze.

Melissa's eyes caught yours, and time slowed.

Kristen Marie's voice was loud enough for you to hear, dripping with playful cruelty. "Come say hi to Melissa."

You forced a smile, heart pounding, and approached the table where Melissa and Kristen Marie sat.

Melissa's gaze was sharp. Unblinking. Her sister shot you a pointed look.

"Hey," you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady.

Melissa's lips twitched into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Hey."

The silence that fell between you was thick—full of things unsaid and feelings barely contained.

Kristen Marie took the opportunity to cut the tension with a joke about her preschoolers, but it only made the awkwardness more pronounced.

You nodded politely, glanced at Melissa one last time, and quietly excused yourself.

Outside the bar, the cool night air felt like a balm, but inside, you could still feel Melissa's eyes burning holes in your back.

The next morning at Abbott, the air was heavy. The usual hum of busy teachers and students felt subdued in your corner.

Janine was bouncing on her toes outside your classroom, grinning like she'd just discovered a secret. Jacob lingered nearby, arms crossed, eyes flickering with amusement.

"So," Janine said, practically vibrating, "how was the date?"

You forced a small smile. "It was... fine."

Jacob exchanged a glance with Janine. "Come on, spill."

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. "Melissa was there."

Janine's mouth dropped open. "What?!?"

Jacob leaned forward like you were about to reveal the ending to a season finale. "Did she see you on the date? Did you talk?"

"She was the date," Janine said dramatically. "The date was the battlefield."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "We didn't talk. Not really. I mean—Kristen Marie waved me over when I was leaving, which—don't even get me started."

"Oh no," Jacob said, clutching his chest. "You had to stand there? In front of her? While she was seated, all scorned and powerful like a Roman senator?"

"Yes," you muttered. "Exactly that."

Janine groaned and dropped her head to the table. "This is terrible. This is amazing. This is so terrible."

"She said nothing?" Jacob asked, aghast.

"She said 'hey.' That's it. I think she was trying not to stab me with a steak knife. Which, to be fair, valid."

"Did Riley know who she was?" Janine asked.

"Oh, yeah. She called her 'the redhead who wanted to set her on fire.'"

Jacob gasped. "Oh my god, I love her."

"I don't think she meant it affectionately," you mumbled.

Janine lifted her head, eyes huge. "Wait. So did you tell Riley? About Melissa?"

"No," you said quickly. Then hesitated. "Sort of. I said we work together."

"You said that while Melissa was burning holes in your head from ten feet away?" Janine asked, scandalized. "Babe."

"I panicked!"

Across the building, Melissa sat at her desk pretending to care about a stack of field trip permission slips.

She'd read the same sentence four times. Something about emergency contacts. Her jaw kept clenching.

Kristen Marie had tried to talk to her on the way home, to get her to admit what they both knew. But Melissa brushed her off with a low, "Drop it," and spent the rest of the ride staring out the window like a brooding teenager.

She hadn't slept. Not well. Her mind kept replaying that moment when Riley touched your hand—when you let her.

She could still hear your laugh. Still feel the flutter in her chest she refused to name.

Captain Robinson had texted last night:

"Goodnight, babe. Can't wait to see you Friday."

She didn't answer.

The worst part was, she knew she should feel guilty. She should feel conflicted. But all she felt was rage.

And jealousy. And this tight ache under her ribs.

A knock came at her door.

She looked up too fast. It wasn't you. Of course not.

Barbara slipped inside, calm and quiet as ever. "Melissa."

Melissa straightened. "Hey, Barb."

Barbara closed the door behind her. "What happened?"

Melissa blinked. "What do you mean?"

Barbara tilted her head. "I may be old, but I'm not blind. You've barely looked at her today. And she's barely looked at you. That's not nothing."

Melissa swallowed. "We're just—busy."

Barbara raised one elegant eyebrow. "Try again."

Melissa sighed. "She was on a date. I happened to be there."

"With Kristen Marie," Barbara said knowingly, sitting across from her. "She told me."

Melissa looked down at her desk. "It's not my business who she goes out with."

Barbara was quiet for a moment. "Then why does it look like someone kicked your puppy?"

Melissa didn't answer.

Barbara leaned forward. "Do you love her?"

Melissa's breath hitched.

She didn't speak.

"You don't have to say it out loud," Barbara said gently. "But if you do... you need to be honest. With her. With yourself. And with the man who thinks he still has a place in your heart."

Melissa looked away.

"I don't love him," she said quietly. "Captain Robinson. I never really did. Not like that."

Barbara gave a small, sad smile. "Then why are you still pretending?"

Melissa didn't know. Maybe because it was easy. Safe. Expected.

But last night, when you looked at her like you didn't recognize her anymore—when Riley held your hand and you didn't pull away—it was the first time she'd felt real panic.

Not fear of losing. But fear of being too late.

Barbara stood. "You have a choice, Melissa. But if you wait too long... someone else might make it for you."

The last school bell rang like a mercy.

You stayed at your desk longer than usual, eyes glued to a stack of graded essays you had no memory of writing feedback on. Your thoughts kept looping, tangled in Melissa's unreadable stare, Riley's soft smile, Janine's gasps of disbelief, Jacob's whispered theories.

You were exhausted.

Emotionally drained from playing it cool all day. From ducking into side hallways to avoid running into her. From pretending like you weren't reliving that candlelit wine bar moment on repeat, her voice a tight "hey" that sounded like a question she didn't ask.

And the worst part?

You missed her.

You missed her. The ridiculous banter. The eye-rolls she saved just for you. The way she'd sneak snacks into your desk drawer without ever admitting it. The warmth of her when she stood close. The way she looked at you sometimes like you were gravity.

And today she hadn't looked at you at all.

Janine appeared at your door like a worried sibling, already mid-sentence. "Okay, so we've decided you're coming over tonight. I'll make spaghetti. Jacob's bringing that fancy red wine that gives us both headaches. You're not allowed to wallow alone."

Jacob followed close behind. "We're staging an emotional intervention. You get to pick the playlist, and if you say Phoebe Bridgers, I will cry with you."

You smiled despite yourself. "You guys don't have to—"

Janine cut you off with a look. "No. We do. Because we love you. And because Melissa's acting like she's in the final act of a tragic opera and it's making everyone weird."

Jacob glanced down the hall. "She's been pacing her classroom. Ava told me she took three different calls in a row and said 'I gotta deal with this' out loud to herself."

"She also slammed a drawer," Janine whispered dramatically.

You blinked. "Wait, really?"

"She never slams," Jacob said. "Something's up."

And then—Jacob's eyes widened.

"Oh my god," he hissed, grabbing Janine's arm. "Look."

You followed his gaze.

Down the hallway, tall and solid as ever, was Captain Robinson, dressed in his off-duty jeans and department t-shirt, walking purposefully toward Melissa's room with a bouquet of white tulips in hand.

You froze. Janine's jaw dropped. Jacob physically recoiled.

"He brought flowers?" Janine hissed. "She told him to come?"

"I thought she ghosted him!" Jacob whisper-screamed. "He texted her last night and she didn't answer! This is... this is the twist!"

You stared.

Melissa had called him.

She wanted him here.

You thought your stomach might hit the floor.

Janine put a hand on your arm. "Hey. You okay?"

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You felt numb. Cold and hot all at once.

"I—I don't know."

Jacob moved closer. "We can leave. Come on. You don't have to watch this."

But you couldn't move. Not yet.

Just as Captain Robinson reached her door, Melissa opened it.

She looked like she'd been non-stop pacing. Her hair was a little frizzy from her fingers, her expression serious. You couldn't hear what she said, but you saw her eyes flicker in surprise—then soften.

She stepped aside, let him in.

The door closed behind them.

And the silence stretched like it wanted to snap.

Captain Robinson set the flowers down on her desk, his grin easy. "You look good."

Melissa gave a faint smile. "Thanks for coming."

"You said it was important. What's up?"

She didn't sit. "We need to talk."

He paused, straightening. "Okay..."

Melissa exhaled slowly. "I've been thinking a lot. About us. About this."

He nodded once, the corners of his mouth twitching into something wary.

"You're great," she said. "You really are. You've been kind. Steady. Exactly the kind of guy anyone would be lucky to have."

"But not the one you want," he said gently.

She flinched. "No. I thought maybe I could get there. That something would click eventually."

"But it didn't."

She shook her head.

He rubbed the back of his neck, then offered a sad little smile. "So... who is she?"

Melissa's eyes flickered up, startled. "What?"

"I'm not blind either, Schemmenti. You think I didn't notice the way your whole face changes when someone mentions her?"

Melissa looked down at the floor, her voice quiet. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't," he said easily. "We were dating. Not married. Not even exclusive, technically."

She looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

He shrugged. "We both kept things vague. But I'm glad you called. It was the right thing to do."

Melissa nodded, the tension in her shoulders loosening just a bit.

He picked up the flowers again and smiled. "I'll give these to the nurse's office. Someone'll appreciate them."

She laughed once, and he winked. "Good luck, Schemmenti. Go get your girl."

And with that, he walked out.

You were still frozen just outside your classroom when he passed, bouquet in hand, nodding at you politely before disappearing down the hall.

You blinked. "What—?"

Janine gasped. "Wait. He's leaving?"

Jacob leaned closer. "Did she break up with him?"

You looked toward Melissa's room again.

And this time, the door was open.

She stood there, still in the doorway, watching him walk away.

And then her eyes found yours.

She didn't look away. You didn't either.

Your heart pounded in your chest.

Jacob whispered, "Oh no. This is definitely happening."

Janine clapped her hands, whisper-yelling, "Okay, no one breathe too loud. History is being made."

And you knew, suddenly, that she hadn't just called him to talk.

She'd called him to end it.

Because she finally knew what she wanted.

And it wasn't safe. It wasn't easy. It was you.

The air in the hallway went still. Like the building, the world, the entire school day had drawn a collective breath and held it.

Melissa stepped out of her classroom.

Slow. Controlled. Measured. But her face—God, her face. Her mask was gone. All that tight, sharp tension she wore like armor cracked open, and underneath it?

Bare. Raw. Terrified.

You stepped forward too, almost involuntarily. Some magnetic force that had always existed between you pulling tighter, demanding less space, fewer lies.

"Okay," Jacob whispered, tugging Janine's sleeve. "We need to go. We're not animals."

"I am," Janine hissed, eyes wide. "But fine."

They backed into your classroom with the cartoonish urgency of sitcom characters escaping a scene. The door clicked shut behind them. Probably watching through the blinds.

But it didn't matter. You couldn't look anywhere but her.

She stopped a few feet away.

Neither of you said anything.

Then Melissa broke the silence, voice low and rough. "He's not coming back."

Your stomach flipped. "I saw."

"I ended it."

A pause. "Why?"

Her breath hitched, but her gaze didn't waver. "Because I couldn't stand the thought of sitting across from someone who wanted me... while thinking about someone who doesn't."

You felt like you'd been punched. "Melissa—"

"And then I saw you." Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard. "With her. And I thought—I did this. I waited too long. I let you move on."

"I didn't move on," you said, almost instantly. "I tried to."

She stepped closer. "You looked like you were happy."

"I was happy," you admitted. "She was nice. She is nice. But I kept thinking about you. I kept wishing it was you sitting across from me instead."

Melissa's eyes shimmered. Her hands flexed at her sides.

"I was scared," she said, softer now. "You're the only thing that ever felt real. And that made it hard. I thought I could keep it casual with him. Play safe. Be comfortable."

You tilted your head, barely breathing. "And now?"

"I'm not interested in comfortable anymore," she whispered.

Another step. She was close enough now you could see the freckle under her right eye. The way her breath hitched when she looked at your lips.

Your heart pounded.

You could kiss her. Right here. In the hallway. Between the bulletin board and the copier. Right where the worst day of longing was turning into something else entirely.

But you didn't. Not yet.

"Melissa," you said, quietly but firmly. "You have to mean this."

Her eyes locked onto yours. Fierce. Devoted. Wrecked.

"I've mean it every single day," she said. "Even when I tried not to."

Your breath hitched. "Then say it."

Her voice was barely audible.

"I love you."

The hallway spun a little. Or maybe that was just your heart giving in.

You reached for her hand—her fingers threaded through yours like they always belonged there.

"I love you too."

She exhaled like she'd been holding it since September.

And then, finally, finally—she kissed you.

Right there in the hallway. After the bell. After the breakup. After the date.

Soft. Desperate. Devout.

You melted into it.

Everything that had been tangled inside you—longing, confusion, jealousy, guilt—unraveled in that kiss.

And then—from behind the classroom blinds, Janine let out a strangled sob. "OH MY GOD. THEY'RE KISSING."

Jacob practically squealed. "We are not emotionally prepared for this arc."

You broke the kiss, forehead resting against hers, laughing into her smile.

Melissa didn't pull away.

"Dinner at your place tonight?" she murmured.

You nodded. "Only if you bring dessert."

She grinned. "I am dessert."

"Oh my god," you groaned, shoving her shoulder, laughing.

Down the hall, a door creaked open.

Barbara peeked out, made eye contact with the both of you... and gave a knowing, satisfied nod.

Then shut the door again.

That evening, dinner at your place felt different than it ever had before.

Not just because Melissa was here—she'd been here plenty of times before, balancing takeout containers and grumbling about the thermostat being too high. But tonight... tonight she stood just inside the doorway, a little unsure, a little wide-eyed, like she couldn't quite believe she was finally allowed to be here like this.

You ended up making something simple. Pasta, mostly because it was what you had, and you needed something to do with your hands. Melissa leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping a glass of wine and watching you with a look you hadn't seen before—not quite smirking, not teasing.

Just... soft.

Like you were something holy.

"Y'know," she said quietly, "I used to picture this."

You glanced up. "This?"

She nodded. "You. Me. A night like this. Your place. Something simmering on the stove. You humming. Me pretending I'm not completely gone for you."

You froze mid-stir.

Her voice was quieter now. "I've been gone for a long time."

Your hands dropped to the counter. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Melissa hesitated. "Because I didn't think I could have this. You're..." Her brow furrowed. "You're the kind of person who makes me want more. And that scared the hell out of me."

You blinked back something tight in your throat. "You think I haven't been terrified every time you walked into my classroom with some sarcastic comment and that crooked smile and a bag of pretzels like I wouldn't immediately crumble?"

Melissa laughed, choked and warm. "I was never just dropping off pretzels."

"I know that now."

You moved closer, the space between you dissolving.

"I thought I could get over it," you whispered. "I really did. That's why I went out with Riley. She was kind. She made me laugh. But she wasn't you. And it didn't matter how much I tried to pretend she could be."

Melissa reached up, cupped your cheek gently. "I hated seeing you with her."

"I know."

"I hated how much she got to see you laugh. That's mine."

You leaned into her touch. "Then keep it."

She kissed you again, slow and deliberate this time. No urgency. Just this deep, reverent thing. Like she had all the time in the world now.

And maybe she did.

When you finally pulled apart, you both stayed wrapped up in each other, arms loosely looped around waists, wine forgotten.

You asked quietly, "Was it really that bad? Wanting me?"

Melissa's eyes filled with something aching. "It wasn't wanting you that hurt," she said. "It was pretending I didn't."

You exhaled slowly, forehead pressing to hers.

There were no more walls. No more stolen glances. Just this.

You whispered, "Come to bed. With me."

She nodded against your lips. "Only if I get to stay."

You pulled back, heart full. "Stay as long as you want."

You led her to the bedroom in silence.

But not the kind that stretches awkward or unsure. This was different—thick with meaning. Sacred, almost. Melissa followed close behind you, fingertips brushing your arm like she couldn't stand even an inch of distance anymore.

You turned once you reached the edge of the bed, facing her, unsure if you were shaking from nerves or adrenaline or just the fact that she was finally here, in front of you, like this.

Her hands found your hips. Yours slid into her hair.

And when you kissed her this time, it was deeper—hungrier—not rushed, but full of all the nights you'd dreamed of this. Of her.

She kissed you like she'd been starving.

Like she was trying to memorize every angle of your mouth, every sound you made when she pressed closer, every breath that hitched between words you weren't speaking.

You pulled her shirt over her head slowly, and she let you, her eyes never leaving yours.

There was reverence in the way you touched her—fingers tracing the lines of her shoulders, the strong curve of her back. She was all warmth and steady hands, moving with purpose and something more vulnerable than you'd ever seen in her.

"I used to think about this," you whispered against her neck. "What it would feel like. To be this close."

Her hands slipped under your shirt, lifting it with care. "And?" she asked, voice husky, eyes flickering with emotion.

You smiled, a little breathless. "It's better than I imagined."

Melissa kissed you again—slower this time, softer. She took her time with every button, every layer of hesitation, like she was unwrapping a secret she already knew by heart.

When the last bit of distance disappeared and your skin pressed against hers, you both paused.

It wasn't about lust. Not just that.

It was about recognition.

Like coming home.

In the hush of the room, your bodies found each other with aching gentleness—exploring, learning, listening. She asked with her hands if you were okay. You answered with a gasp and a pull that said don't stop, I need you, I trust you.

You were still tangled in each other, skin to skin, when she whispered your name like a secret—like it meant something only she got to say.

Her hands never stopped moving. Not frantically, but reverently. Like she was still learning the shape of you, the way your breath hitched when her fingers trailed along your ribs, the way your thighs tensed when she pressed a little closer.

"God," Melissa murmured, her lips ghosting over your collarbone. "You're so damn beautiful."

You exhaled softly, your fingers threading through her hair. "So are you."

She shook her head faintly, smile curving against your skin. "You've always undone me. Even when I tried to act like you didn't." Her voice was lower now, husky with awe. "I kept telling myself it was just admiration. Just a crush. But every time I looked at you..." Her lips pressed just below your jaw. "I fell a little harder."

You arched into her, gasping as her hand traced slow, languid lines down your side. She was everywhere—her body flush against yours, her breath warm against your neck, her voice making you tremble more than anything else.

"I love the way you sound," she whispered, almost in disbelief. "The way you move. The way you let me in."

You guided her hips down to meet yours, the angle perfect, a slow drag of skin on skin that made you both gasp.

Your nails clutched at her waist. "Melissa..."

Her mouth found yours again, messier this time, needy. She was grinding into you, her rhythm steady, deliberate, like she wanted to make you feel everything.

And you did.

Every moan you swallowed into her mouth. Every word she whispered—"So good," "Just like that," "I've got you"—sent your body spiraling closer to the edge.

You rocked against her, hips rising to meet her, the friction electric, dizzying, perfect.

Your head fell back into the pillow, your voice catching. "You feel so good."

She held your gaze. "Come with me."

You nodded, barely able to breathe.

And then she said it—low, breathless, honest:

"I've waited so long for this. For you."

That was what did it.

The words. The weight of them.

The love.

You came with a gasp, your legs tightening around her, your hands in her hair as Melissa followed just seconds later, her body shaking against yours, her mouth open in a soft, broken moan.

And when it was over, you stayed like that.

Foreheads touching. Fingers linked.

Both of you catching your breath in the quiet aftermath.

She kissed you again, slower this time. A thank you. A promise.

You smiled, still breathless. "I meant it. Stay."

Melissa pulled you even closer. "I'm not going anywhere."

[saltyyuuri]

How valorant agents would react to:

"what was in the box I found on your desk?"

Brimstone: "you didn't look inside it did you?!"

You didn't, thankfully. He was planning on gifting you a simple necklace he found, had a small locket on it with engravings and a picture of you both for your 2 year anniversary.

Phoenix: "Oh shit my new shoes came in??"

Of course he had bought another pair of expensive shoes for his collection, the usual.

Sage: "oh my order of tea :) I got some shipped from china, would you like some?"

She let you taste some of the tea she had ordered in, spending the afternoon in her living quarters, relaxing and chatting over the cup of tea

Sova: "Oh just some charged arrowheads for my shock arrows. You didn't touch them, did you?"

By the time he had a reply you had already opened the box and got relatively well electrocuted after touching one of the arrowheads. When he came back he just sighed, shook his head but bandaged your hand.

Viper: "poison."

It was not actually poison but the answer alone was enough to get you to not touch that box.

Cypher: "oh a new chess set, made of wood and entirely hand carved. Would you be interested in playing later?"

Of course you said yes, and the new chess pieces were quite nice. You could understand why he wanted to acquire these.

Reyna: "don't you dare open it."

The lack of detail made you curious and you couldn't help looking inside. When you saw the contents of the box, far from PG-13, you had to sit yourself down for a moment. And of course she walked in a bit after, and seeing your red face she already knew you checked. "Well now you know what's about to happen."

Killjoy: "my alarm bot. It's in time out."

You don't really understand why, curiosity getting the better of you and opening the box. You discovered pretty fast after the alarm bot was practically attacking you.

Breach: "probably a gun, molly or fusion cells."

And you were more stunned about 'molly' being an option in all of that. Turns out it was only fusion cells.

Omen: "yarn. I ordered more."

You took care of unpacking it for him and putting it in his designated basket for yarn. He was quite grateful, being able to just sit down and knit without worrying about the unpacking part.

Jett: "uhhhhhhhhhhhhh idk"

So you take it upon yourself to open the box, revealing a very suspicious looking pack. After opening it you could see it was white powder and it immediately alerted you. After a bit of back and forth texts, turns out she just ordered a bag of MSG, a spice for her food (I don't know if it's actually a spice or not so don't quote me)

Raze: "UH EITHER BOMBS OR SPRAY PAINT."

Out of curiosity you open the box. And curiosity killed the cat as you end up in med bay. From now on her boxes are going to get labeled properly.

Skye: "oh just a few wooden sculptures I stashed away. I was supposed to sort them."

You had fun looking through all the different sculptures she had made, laying them out on the desk. You sorted them by species, hoping that would give her a little bit of a hand.

Yoru: "drugs."

It was not drugs; and you learned that the hard way after Brimstone immediately searched the room after getting told there was potentially drugs. It was actually just a couple sweet snacks ordered in from Japan that he didn't want you getting into-and instead of getting himself in trouble.

Astra: "my drawing supplies!"

You did look through it briefly, finding nothing really interesting other than a copious amount of markers and pencils.

Kay/o: "why are you in my maintenance room."

It is true that killjoy is the only one who's supposed to be in that room to begin with; being the one who usually does the maintenance on kay/o

Chamber: "you will know tonight."

... I don't feel like I have to explain this one. But for those who don't understand: no walking for the next day.

Neon: "OH I FORGOT TO HIDE IT! IT'S FOR YOU THO 💙"

She had put together a little gift basket, like the one seen on tik Tok for Valentine's Day; chocolates, a plushie, a blankets, favorite drink, new tumbler and a handwritten card with an invitation to a restaurant dinner.

Fade: "kitty toys. Can you unpack them for nightmare?"

She had splurge it a little bit for her cat, and there was various toys, treats and a new little hammock for the kitty.

Harbor: "Ah! That must be the helmet I ordered for you so we can go on motorcycle rides together 😄"

He had gotten you a slightly more expensive helmet than what he usually got himself, one that had a bit of a fancy design on it and the mirror visor to look a little more mysterious.

Gekko: "OH IT FINALLY CAME IN??? I GOT WINGMAN A LITTLE SUIT."

Inside the box was a small suit that looked like it was tailored for an infant, which would make sense because trying to explain to a custom clothing maker that it was supposed to be for a radiant critter would probably confuse them. But seeing wingman in a suit was absolutely adorable.

Deadlock: "sound sensors, be careful."

The notification sound on your phone set them off, resulting in you getting stunned almost back to back a couple of times.

Iso: "snacks."

Indeed the box was full of snacks, but one in particular caught your attention. You took it out, and it was one of those bead candies that you usually wear on the necklace or a bracelet, just a different shape. It was packaged in a clear bag with no labeling and you opened it just to check what it was supposed to be. After unpacking it and seeing your face went red. Seems Iso already decided on desert for the night.

Clove: "rocks :D"

It was their entire rock collection, all nicely sorted in the box. You added one of your own in there for them.

Vyse: "Schrödinger's cat"

It was indeed not a cat, just a few various equipments that she needed for experiments she was working on. But for the joke you did leave a Post-It note with a cat drawing on it, purposely drawing it dead.

Tejo: "why are you looking through my stuff? 🤨"

Turns out he had just ordered another pair of shades, adding yet one more pair to his collection. But you did decide to mess around and borrow one of his pairs to wear around.

Waylay: "A glass suncatcher."

The glass suncatcher reflected the same way that her powers did with the light. It was honestly pretty and you hung it for her in the best spot on the window, so when she walked in it would be shimmering already for her.

[luveline]

jade! i’d love to see anything with eddie and roan <3 i miss my man and my child

eddie and roan | ty for requesting <3

“Get lost.” 

“You get lost, you weirdo.” 

“I’m serious, go play somewhere else.” 

Steve frowns, shaking the fist of his Barbie at Eddie in outrage. “This is supposed to be a playdate. You can’t just boss me around.” 

“No, this is dinner. You were invited over for dinner.” 

“And Roan employed me to build some deep backstory for her characters!” 

Roan sits in your lap at the dinner table, nowhere near their playing. She has cracker crumbs falling from her mouth as she asks, “Wait, are they talking about me?” 

“Don’t think so,” Robin says, a butter knife in hand. She spreads thick, salty butter from one corner of a cracker to the other, cheddar dust falling from it like orange snow. 

You’re pleasantly surprised when she hands it to you. 

“I’m trying to get these sweet ladies dressed and you’re messing up their outfits,” Eddie says. 

“I’m not messing them up, they just look stupid when you dress them.” 

“I know how they looked in the box, okay? I should. I paid for them.” 

“That’s not true. I bought this one.” Steve holds up a Barbie with a flight attendant’s outfit on. 

“And I bought the bug scientist one!” you add from your seat. Like with Roan, cracker crumbs try their hardest to fall down your shirt. A Metallica one, Eddie’s influence. 

“I know how they look,” Eddie affirms. 

“So what? They’re toys, you don’t have to dress them up like they came in the box. Roan, can you please do me a big huge favour and tell your daddy he’s being too strict with me?” 

Steve’s pouts at her, but Eddie’s daughter is loyal to her father. “Daddy always dresses them the best, sorry,” Roan says. 

“My angel,” Eddie says, a mutter, distracted by a Barbie where he wrestles a coat over plastic arms. “Thanks, baby.” 

She licks her fingertip. “Y’welcome.” 

You squeeze your arms around her waist and steal a slice of cheese from the paper plate in front of her. 

“Don’t let him draw you into their fighting. Anyone would think they’re the kids,” Robin says. 

“I resent that!” Eddie says, as Steve calls, “Shut it, Buckley, nobody asked you!” 

“I asked, Aunt Robin,” Roan says. 

The boys tussle over a pair of plastic shoes. Robin just sighs, like she’s seen it a hundred times before. “Thank you, Ro. I hate when they do this.” 

You’re enjoying it, but maybe the novelty wears off. 

“Babe?” Eddie calls. 

“Yeah?” Steve asks. 

“Fuck off a second. Sweetheart?” 

“Yeah?” you ask. 

“Can you get that plate of cheese out for Roan, please?” 

You snort and grab another cracker from the tub. “What does he think I’m doing?” you ask Roan in a whisper. “What, I’m just sitting here watching him play with your dollies?” 

“He’s silly,” Roan whispers back, giggling. 

A pink high heel the size of your fingernail pings off the side of Eddie’s head. “Can you pay attention to me? I’m trying to get her ready for the catwalk and you’re not helping.” 

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging with a smile. They seem like they’re actually having fun, under their exaggerated spats. “It looks like a good time.” 

[dorabellingham]

Fashion critic

warning: words of a "sexual nature"

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you do some shopping and he wants to analyze all the pieces of clothing, or better yet, admire his girl

may contain spelling and translation errors!

After finishing opening all the boxes, Jude was sitting on the couch, watching the veritable parade of luxury you had brought home. He shook his head, sometimes in disbelief, sometimes in amusement, as she arranged everything around you. Between shoes, bags, dresses, and even a pair of sunglasses that he swore he had seen you wear something similar to, the room looked like a designer store. Jude stretched his legs out on the couch and crossed his arms, with a mischievous smile on his face.

—Okay, sweetheart, let’s go. Since you spent all this money -with my money, by the way, I think you should at least try it on for me.

You stopped folding one of the bags and turned to him, with an arched eyebrow.

—Oh, really? And why would I do that, Jude?

He shrugged, still smiling.

—Because I’m the official sponsor of this game, and I have the right to approve the investment. What if something isn't worth what it cost?

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

—Oh, so now you want to be a fashion critic, babe?

—Exactly, babe. —He leaned forward, patting the cushion next to him. —Come on, go ahead. Show me what my money bought.

You huffed, but grabbed one of the dresses from the bag and went to the bedroom.

—Only because I know you love seeing me wearing these things.

—And without them too.

He muttered mischievously, and you threw a shoe in his direction before disappearing.

When you came back, wearing a short black dress that perfectly highlighted your curves, Jude's eyes widened, whistling softly.

—Wow. See? That was worth it, sweetie.

You twirled around in an exaggerated way, as if you were on a runway.

—So, Mr. Critic? Do I pass the test?

—Easy. —He smiled and gestured for you to come back. —Next.

You laughed, but kept changing clothes and coming back with different pieces. A long, flowing dress, boots that made you look taller, elegant jackets, and even a super stylish sweatsuit that you used to tease.

—This one is for when you make me lazy at home.

You said, laughing.

Jude was having more fun with each change, applauding exaggeratedly at some and even getting up to adjust details in others.

When you appeared with a red silk dress, that hugged your body in a way that seemed to have been tailored, your boyfriend was silent for a few seconds, just staring.

—So, Bellingham? Aren't you going to say anything?

You asked, tilting your head.

He got up from the couch, approaching slowly.

—I think this one… — He left the sentence hanging in the air, holding your waist and sliding his hands over the fabric. —It should be just for me.

You laughed, pushing his chest lightly.

—Oh, sure. Because I'm going to spend all of this to use it just here at your house.

—If you're going to make me like this... yes.

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks blushed slightly. Jude noticed and smiled even more.

—Come on, go. Is there more or is it over?

He teased.

You sighed dramatically.

—There's more. But if you don't stop being conceited, I'll save the rest for another time.

He walked away with his hands raised.

—Okay, okay. I promise to be serious. Go ahead.

When you came back for the last time, wearing an oversized blazer and knee-high boots, he couldn't help but smile.

—That's... that's so you, babe. It suits you perfectly.

You smiled, adjusting your blazer.

—So I passed the test? Was it worth the investment?

—You passed with flying colors. But... — He pulled you by the hand, making her sit on his lap. —I don't think it was an investment. It was a gift. You deserve all of this.

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

—And you think I don’t know that you love to spoil me?

—Of course I do. But now… —He looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes. —I think I’m going to need a few more close-up evaluations.

[blackmoonowl]

Oneshot where Barbatos is struggling not to constantly serve mc

𝐒𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧.

ꨄ Pairing: Barbatos x reader

ꨄ Summary: On a Barbatos posting roll rn. Just some fluff and crack, no serious plot points. A little short to pass the time.

ꨄ Word Count: 624

"Don't mind the mess, I did my best to clean up before you came."

Barbatos glanced around your home, taking it in. He had never seen your human world home, and it fascinated him. The butler stepped over your shoes, picking them up and neatly putting them away in the rack. Under his arm he held a beautifully decorated wooden box.

"Do not worry, I have seen far worse," the demon assured you, kissing your hand before making his way into your living room as you closed the door.

"Thanks, do you want some tea? It's probably not the good stuff you're used to," you offered, gesturing towards your kitchen. Barbatos smiled, waving his hand slightly.

"There is no need, I brought a brew I made myself, your favorite." Before you could say anything else, the butler walked past you to make the tea himself.

"Hold on a second," you replied, causing him to halt You leaned on the counter, tilting your head to the side with a smile. "You're the guest here, shouldn't I be making your tea?"

"I assure you, it is no trouble." Barbatos took the wooden box, opening it to reveal several tea blends. "I live to serve."

"Serve Diavolo, not me." You replied, gently taking his wrist and guiding him to sit down. Barbatos furrowed his brows slightly, but did as you instructed him, sitting down neatly in one of your chairs.

"Are you certain?" Barbatos questioned as you began making tea for the both of you. "I find enjoyment in taking care of you as much as I do the young master."

"Yeah, but I'm not the crown prince, I'm your partner. We're supposed to be equals here," you said as you put the tea cup on a small plate and served it to him with some biscuits. Barbatos shifted uncomfortably as he waited for you to sit down before even starting.

"This is the tea cup I bought you for your birthday years ago," Barbatos mumbled as he inspected the decorated item. "You have no idea how much that pleases me to see. Have you kept your own matching one?"

"Course I did, it's a gift from my favorite demon. I could never lose it." You shared a smile with him as he glanced back at his cup.

"I wouldn't let the brothers hear that I am your favorite, even if it is true." He crossed his legs as he watched you brew your own cup. "Even if I relish in it."

You began cleaning up the kitchen a little. Barbatos was on his feet immediately, nearly making you jump out of your skin when he stood right beside you suddenly.

"That is best cleaned with a different type of sponge, allow me to do it for you," he offered. He took the towel from you as you shot him a look.

"Barbatos, c'mon. What did I just tell you?" You huffed, crossing your arms as Barbatos wiped down your counter. You had never seem the butler so conflicted before, it was almost jarring. "Just sit down."

"Dear, your apartment is messy, and you expect me to sit down and simply do nothing? I won't stand for that." Barbatos scolded you gently. "I cannot simply sit by and not do my job as a butler. Allow me to take care of you."

"Barbatos, I'm with you because I love who you are, not what you can do for me. I promise I'll clean my stuff up later, alright?" Barbatos relented, walking back to the table with you. He sat down, neatly taking his cup of tea as you took yours. Barbatos gently blew before placing the cup to his lips, taking a small sip.

"It is perfect."

[daydreams-after-dark]

Good things come in small packages

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader

Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.

Word count: approx 2k

A/n: Hey!!! It's finally here! My Mini Han oneshot (posted in a couple of instalments because I get too excited to share). The idea for Mini Han was born through a conversation with my girl @noellllslut (we always have the most unhinged thoughts). Then I wrote a little "imagining" here (which I’ve incorporated into this fic anyway, so you don’t have to read), which then sparked quite a bit curiosity amongst you sweet/filthy readers. Questions came, and I felt compelled to explore more of this theme.

I hope you enjoy this little fic. It's sweet and smutty, and as I kept writing, I fell in love with our dear y/n and Mini Hannie. I want one for myself tbh.

CW below the cut

CW: supernatural themes, oral sex, sexual acts, sexual themes, voyeurism

You've had your miniature human, Hannie, for almost a year?! You realize, sitting at your work desk as you look at your desktop calendar. You smile and make a note to organize a celebration for just the two of you, and to buy a cheesecake for dessert. Hannie loves cheesecake. Your smile grows. He always manages to get it all over him, then wants to get it all over you so he can lick it off you.

One year this coming weekend. It feels like time has flown, yet at the same time it feels like he’s been part of your life forever. Your heart bursts as you think back to how it all came to be.

You had been lonely. You'd broken up with your long term boyfriend and was feeling sad one night. So you went online to doom scroll, and online shop. You expected you'd end up down a rabbit hole of cat memes and be $500 down in shoe purchases, but instead an ad appeared on your screen.

"Miniature human companions" it said, with images of very attractive men. Miniature men. Were they human? Couldn't be. Were they robots? Probably. They must be really expensive to make which is why they are so small, you'd decided.

You were intrigued, so you researched the company, finding that this new type of 'companion' utilizes cutting edge technology that simulates actual human behavior and bodily functions.

By 4am you'd chosen your companion. His name was Han. He was adorable and attractive, with fluffy black hair and pouty lips, and from the personality trait notes, he sounded like a lot of fun.

"Pay Now". You can still remember the feeling of excitement that ran through you as hit the button to complete your purchase.

When he arrived, he came in a box with air holes, which you found kind of weird considering he didn't actually breathe oxygen. You set the box on your kitchen table, took a deep breath and lifted the lid. You gasped as you peered inside.

A little man, about the size of a Ken doll, sat on a blanket eating miniature crisps out of a miniature chip bag.

"Oh hello!" he looked up at you. "Are you my Noona?" he waved excitedly.

Holy fucking shit. You almost fainted as you stumbled to sit down on a dining chair.

You knew he was meant to talk, but he just seemed so real as he chewed his food then licked the seasoning off his lips like he could actually taste it. His little chest moved with his breath, like he was really breathing. Could he do everything a human can do? You wondered.

"My name’s Hannie." He said standing up and brushing the crumbs off his trousers.

"Um...I-I'm Y/n..." you stuttered, trying to process what you were witnessing,

"You're really pretty, Y/n." He beamed up at you with a gummy grin.

You prepared him a little space of his own, with a makeshift bed, clothing that you had also ordered from the company you purchased him from, and bought a set of Barbie sized cups, plates and furniture. You even bought him a Barbie Dreamhouse to live in, but he preferred to just climb up your full sized furniture and use that.

You studied the information manual that came with him and learned that he could in fact, experience life just as a human did. He needed to eat, sleep, wash, poop. Oh and he could get erections and ejaculate. Wow!

Over the next weeks and months you'd gotten yourselves into a routine, and became really close. He was your best friend. You did everything together, mostly staying at home. You assumed he was some sort of AI, and that's why you got along so well, but the longer he was with you, the more his own interests came to the surface. Like singing and Anime.

He helped you bake, often getting himself covered in flour and other ingredients. You'd watch movies together. Most nights you'd lay on the couch and he'd lay face down on your chest while you watched your favorites. Sometimes you'd feel him get hard against the curve of your breast, and you'd think inappropriate thoughts about him. You'd grow wet between your legs and wish he was able to touch you.

He loved it when you’d brush his hair with a tiny little hairbrush and sit him on your benchtop in the bathroom when you’re getting ready for the day. You know he loved it when you forgot he was there one time and you took a shower in front of him. He got so hard watching you soap up your body.

Sometimes you'd take him out on a picnic somewhere secluded near the ocean so he could freely move about the picnic blanket without fear of being seen. Or he'd sneak into your work bag and scare the shit out of you when you were working.

In the early days, you'd occasionally go on dates with actual men. Mostly to take your mind of your growing feelings for Hannie. You'd bring them home and fuck them in your bed, knowing he was somewhere watching, listening. You'd imagine him getting hard from your noises, and it made you moan even louder just picturing it. You'd imagine it was Hannie inside you too, pounding hard into your cunt, and making you come on his cock.

He was distant with you in the days after. He’d sit around sulking and pouting.

"What's wrong, Hannie?" You asked him after he’d ignored you for three days.

"Noona... it's just…I get so jealous of them." He burst into tears. "I want to do things like that to you. I want to the be the one who makes you come." He sobbed.

Things changed after that. You no longer went out with other men, and you and your miniature companion began to explore a more physical, more sexual, relationship.

From letting you see each other naked, to mutual masturbation, to eventually touching each other and making each other come.

You soon learned that even though Hannie is small, he is extremely talented with his mouth, and he can make you come harder than anyone had ever before.

One morning he noticed that you were still asleep, and very naked. The way you were laying, legs splayed out looked so inviting to him. You’d kicked your blanket off at some point. He couldn’t help himself.

You woke up to a sensation between your legs, and when you looked down you saw him kneeling between your your legs, using his arms to push your pussy lips open and doing his very best to lap at your clit.

“Hannie?” You whimpered. He stopped for a moment to stand up and wave at you, the entire front of his body dripping with your arousal. “I’ve just found my favorite thing to do!” He said enthusiastically and then he was back to being buried against your pussy.

These days, at night time he’ll climb up onto your chest while you’re lying in bed watching videos on your phone. He still loves to nestle against the bulge of your breasts, especially if you’re in a loose satin camisole, and he’ll slide himself under the fabric.

“What do you want to watch, Hannie?” You’ll ask him.

“Porn!” He’ll answer excitedly. The phone is like a giant screen to him and it’s never long before you feel him shimmying his clothes off and rubbing his little swollen erection against your skin.

He’s such a desperate little thing that you let him do whatever he needs to get himself off. Often, he’ll rub his cock along your bottom lip while he humps your tits, or he’ll scramble to suck on your nipple. He does his best to stretch his mouth around it, while he grinds against you and cumming on your soft skin. Then he’ll pass out right there. Poor little tyke gets himself tired.

Some of the kinkier things he gets you to do include tying him up and edging him until his cock becomes so painfully red and engorged that he’s crying. His naked body is delicious to look at, and you love to run the pad of your index finger over his muscles. He’s perfectly toned, his skin honey brown, and his cock is mouth-wateringly big for his frame.

He’s rendered helpless as you stroke your finger gently up and down his body. Then, using the tip of your tongue, you lick his cock carefully whilst shoving your pinky finger into his mouth.

There are times when you’ll dress up in lingerie covered in buckles and straps and he’ll climb up your body like he’s doing some kind of adventure hike. He gets so sweaty and very hard as he explores the terrain of your body.

He really is the perfect companion.

You are broken from your thoughts by your alarm signaling it's time to go home from work, and you hurry home to see your Hannie.

_____________

"Fuck! Hannie! Please... need to come...need one more...please. Don't stop." You pant. It's later that evening, and you're on the verge of your third orgasm with Hannie between your thighs sucking expertly on your clit. He's got your lips spread open as far as he can manage, and he's grinding against your core seeking his own release. Inside your pussy you've got your vibrator egg on full intensity. "Yes!!! Yes...coming!!!" You cry as you arch off the bed as you come all over him.

He quickly climbs up your body, almost slipping off because he’s covered in so much of your cream, and kneels on your chest to pump his cock until he’s spurting cum onto your tongue.

“Tastes so good, Hannie.” You show him your empty tongue, but he’s already collapsed across your body.

You clean him up and put him in his striped pajamas, before you both nestle into bed. You’re used to him sleeping on the pillow next to you now, although it took you a while to stop worrying you’d roll on him in the night.

“Noona? Did you know that tomorrow it’ll be one year since I came here?” He says sleepily.

You roll onto your side and smile. “Yes, actually I do, honey. Have a think about what you’d like to do to celebrate, okay. Anything you want."

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. But just so you know, it’ll involve me being buried in your pussy.”

————-

Han laid back on the pillow. What would he like to do to celebrate? He’d love to celebrate by being inside you. Properly. Fully.

He wishes he could do the things he'd seen those men you’d do to you all those months ago. To pin your legs up and fuck you so hard the bed would shake. He takes his mind back to when he’d hide on your shelf and watch, fucking into his hand and holding back tears of despair.

What would it be like to bend you over and fuck you from behind? What would it even be like to fuck you at all? He wants to know so bad.

But he does have a special relationship with you, he supposes. Not every guy has to stretch his mouth around a nipple or clit like he has to. Can those men be covered head to toe in your juices? Or lay completely across the bulge of your boob. No. They can’t. Only he can.

He pouts to himself.

He knows he’s got it good, you are his everything. But as he lays on the pillow next you and closes his eyes, he wonders if he’s enough for you? Could you give up real men forever, with real sized cocks that can stretch you out and fill you deep? Would you be okay with never having a boyfriend you could take out in public, or take to family events, or be seen with?

Could you settle for him? A miniature version of a man?

He sighs. "Goodnight, Noona. Love you." He whispers as he leans over and gives your giant lips a kiss.

"Goodnight, my sweet Hannie. I love you too." you reply sleepily.

As he drifts off to sleep he wishes what he always wishes. That he could be human sized and be with you like a proper human.

-----------

The morning sun peeks through your window, landing on your face and causing you to stir. You groan and try to stretch, but a heaviness across your middle keeps you in place. You peer down to find a man's arm wrapped around you, snuggling you tight.

Fear courses through your body, and you scream as you fling the arm off and jump out bed. You grab your lamp, ready to hit the intruder.

"Noona?" The man lifts his head, his dark locks falling around his face.

Your eyes almost pop out of your head when you see the confused look on his face. "Hannie!?" You choke, hands poised to strike.

"Noona? What are you doing?" he peers down at the pillow his head had been resting on, and then down the bed toward his feet. "Why is your bed so small?"

"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.

"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"

"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."

To be continued…

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @ismokeeweed @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @teddy-stay @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

[often-daydreaming]

Hobbies

"I don't know. It's only forty dollars."

"Exactly."

Danny grumbled a little as he stared down at the phone squished between him and Bart.

"But there isn't even a picture or anything. Jazz always says those are scams."

"I know but it's so cheap."

"To cheap. Forty bucks for a ray gun sounds like a scam to me."

"What if it isn't though?"

"Alright. Alright. I'm gonna buy it." Danny grinned a little revealing a set of razor sharp canines as he confirmed the purchase. "Even if it is a scam it'll still be a fun little surprise when it arrives."

-_- -_- -_-

"Yes!"

Wally barely managed to duck out of the way as a massive blast of energy tore across the training room freezing the wall behind him. Massive spikes of ice erupting from the area of impact and coating nearly the entire wall in thick sheets of dense hoarfrost.

"It's a freeze ray!"

"I bet we could freeze a volcano with this thing."

Following the cheerful voices still chattering away Wally nearly had a heart attack when he noticed Bart and Danny playing around with a massive cryo-cannon of all things.

-_- -_- -_-

"How could you even afford something like this?" Wally raised a hand to cut off whatever excuse they might have while Dick looked over the cannon. "And don't tell me you bought it cause that thing probably cost thousands."

"Is Tim behind this?"

"We've talked about him buying his friends stuff but this is a little ridiculous."

"But I did buy it."

Danny held up his phone showing them his copy of the digital receipt and shipping number causing both of the older heroes to blue screen for a second.

"What?"

"Well, we bought it but Bart agreed I could use it more since he's a speedster." And neither one of them were actually listening to him which was rude.

Bart nudged his side while they were talking, well arguing about who to call in to try and find out more about the website and Danny quickly caught on to what he wanted as they both vanished, the pair quickly escaping with their cannon while Wally and Dick were still trying to process the fact someone was actually selling highly advanced tech for dirt cheap prices.

Neither boy really cared all that much about any of their complaints since they weren't exactly breaking any rules. They bought it. They even reserved a training room to test fire it and best of all nobody got hurt so they couldn't get in trouble.

Bart just had to talk with Max before anyone else could so they had somewhere to keep everything they planned on buying while deep within the Infinity Realms Technus was handling his new hobby, kind of obsession, not really side hustle since he doesn't care about money with a renewed sense of enthusiasm as another order came in. A custom order at that which made two hole orders now and it looked like they were interested in an oddly detailed police box for some reason.

I know it isn't a good prompt but I watched a short on YouTube about a rat gun and thought it was funny enough to try and come up with something. I can just imagine the two of them giving Wally and Dick grey hairs since they're gonna buy so many weird things from Technus just to see if he can actually build it only no one will ever believe them since nobody is gonna sell a war suit or air shoes for that cheap.

[piggyinthesea]

Shoelace Theory

would they tie your shoelaces?

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ғᴏʀᴍᴜʟᴀ ᴏɴᴇ ɢʀɪᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ: ᴏsᴄᴀʀ ᴘɪᴀsᴛʀɪ, ᴅᴀɴɪᴇʟ ʀɪᴄᴄɪᴀʀᴅᴏ, ᴄᴀʀʟᴏs sᴀɪɴᴢ, ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀsᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ, ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇs ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ, ʟᴇᴡɪs ʜᴀᴍɪʟᴛᴏɴ, ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀɪss, ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ ʀᴜssᴇʟʟ, ᴘɪᴇʀʀᴇ ɢᴀsʟʏ, ʏᴜᴋɪ ᴛsᴜɴᴏᴅᴀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴊᴜsᴛ ғʟᴜғғ, sʟɪɢʜᴛ ʀᴜᴅᴇɴᴇss

inspired by orange peel theory

✿

Oscar Piastri:

What? No. You could tie your own shoes. He’s not gonna stop what he’s doing to kneel down and tie your shoes.

“But why?!” You groan, following him around the paddock with your shoes untied. Almost suddenly, you trip. If it wasn’t for Oscar swiftly catching you, you would’ve ate shit.

He begrudgingly kneels down, tying your shoes. “Next time, I won’t tie your shoelaces.”

It was a lie. He did tie your shoelaces the next time.

Daniel Ricciardo:

He’s in the middle of entering his racing car when you ask him does. He looks at you puzzled but then quickly kneels down and ties them. It didn’t surprise you though, his kids must ask him all the time.

You wished him good luck before being ushered out of the garage. After the race, he comes to you with his shoes untied.

“Can you tie them for me?”

Will be salty if you don’t tie them for him

Carlos Sainz:

You asked him in the post-interviews, shamelessly interrupting. He stammers, “Could you excuse me one moment?”. At first you thought he was asking you to excuse him, until he quickly kneels down and ties your shoelaces, giving a small smile as he looks up at you.

He gets back up, mindlessly running his hand through his hair.

“What’d you think of the race?”, Carlos asks you.

“Great results! Proud of you.” You quip, raising your hands and offering a high five in which he quickly reciprocates. He watches you walk away, until he’s knocked out of his trance by the interviewer he had forgotten was still standing in front of him.

Safe to say Carlos is not so great at hiding his little crush on you.

Max Verstappen:

You catch him lacking in the Red Bull garage, and his face falls as soon as he sees you. You were the grid’s prankster and your go-to victim was always Max.

“Leave me alone, please!” He feigns fear, holding his hands up while guarding his face. He flinches when you’re in front of him, leaving you with guilt for all those pranks you’ve played on max. You had the poor boy traumatized.

“Tie my shoestrings, pretty please!” Your words came out innocent. Max looked at you as if you had grown two heads.

Suddenly he stands up, raising a fist towards you, “Get out of here!”. Of course he wasn’t actually going to punch you, he was just pranking you back.

You clench a paper-ball in your back pocket. You slowly pull it out, and instantly throw it at him. You make a run for the door, and frantically start screaming “Help!” as you hear a pair of monster feet stomping behind you.

Charles Leclerc:

He had always been nice to you. Your conversations with him had always been friendly and extremely normal. So of course, when you asked he did it. No questions asked.

The two of you continue your conversation and end up splitting ways shortly after. A few days later, he came to you with a box of converse shoes, in your size.

“So you don’t have to ask people to constantly tie your shoes.” Charles stands by as he watches you open the box, a cute smile placed on his face. He had bought you strap on shoes. He genuinely thought you didn’t know how to tie your shoes.

You did develop a little crush on him because of this.

Lewis Hamilton:

No. He avoids you at all costs. Word had gotten around on the grid about you and your shoelaces. He refused to take part of this tomfoolery and when you asked him all he did was look straight in your eyes.

He stared at you silently. A few moments pass, and suddenly he books it and runs out of the Mercedes garage and leaves you there.

That man runs INCREDIBLY fast.

Lando Noriss:

He was waiting for you to ask him and nearly sheds a tear when you do. This boy feels incredibly honored tying your shoes.

“Why yes, Madam, I will tie your shoes.”

He definitely feels included and takes it as some sort of badge of honor being included in your pranks. He goes around telling everyone about how you asked him to tie your shoes but then he finds out how many people have already tied your shoes. He was under the impression it was only Max and Oscar who had tied your shoes already but when he found out Lewis, Carlos, Charles, and Daniel had already tied your shoes before him, he felt BETRAYED.

This man ignores you for three whole days because of how late he was included. You make it up for him by doing the one thing he loved, including him in pranks. He takes it extremely well when you surprise him by shoving a face in his cake randomly and sprinting away. He laughs and begins speaking terms with you again.

George Russell:

George Russell noticed your shoes. They weren’t regular ones, these were the strap on converse Charles had gotten you. It’s funny really, because somehow they still ended up unstrapped. How was that even possible? Wasn’t the strap made of Velcro or something?

Though there’s no possible way you could hurt yourself by having unstrapped shoes. He watches you for 10 minutes, engaging in conversations with Charles. He hyperfixates on that unstrapped shoe like it’s the end of the world. It irks him to no end.

Maybe it was an ocd thing, but he completely stops the conversation you and Charles had, to stick your strap onto the sticky part of the velcro.

“Your shoe wasn’t strapped.”

Pierre Gasly:

You CAN’T find him. It’s like he completely disappeared from the face of the world, and it sucks because this time you wore your regular laced shoes for the purpose of getting him to tie them.

I mean, he had to turn up at some point, for racing season. The day you finally saw him was during qualifying. Pierre was being interviewed and you took this as your opportunity to sneak up on him.

“Pierre, can you tie-”

“No. So anyways-”

Pierre completely shuts you down, and engages in the interviewers conversation. The interviewer gave you an awkward side-eye, luckily, Max overheard him and quickly runs to the rescue as your partner in crime.

He grabs a firm grip on Pierre’s neck from behind, “Mate, you’re gonna have to tie her shoes.” He adds slight pressure, enough for Pierre to oblige, but not enough to catch a case or a fine from the FIA.

Pierre kneels down with Max’s hand still on his neck and obediently ties your shoestrings. Max lets go of his hold on Pierre once he ties them, and gives you a high five ‘mission accomplished’ style.

Yuki Tsunoda:

Nope. Not unless you tie his shoes. He hears none of your complains and refuses to tie your shoes unless he gets something in return. Honestly, give him a piece of candy and he’ll do it. Unfortunately, you’re too stubborn.

Why won’t he just tie your shoes? Totally not cool. What if you trip, hit your head, and end up in a coma for ten years? It would be entirely his fault.

You fill his mind with all these over exaggerated ways on how you could die by not having him tie your shoelaces. It doesn’t work on him and so you leave him be & angrily huff out the room. He finds himself rethinking all the ways you’ve stated you could have possible died. It’s kind of realistic falling and hitting your head ultimately ending with you in a coma. He begins to spiral and before he knows it his anxiety has taken over his mind. He sets out to look for you, walking into various empty rooms and starts searching even more frantically.

What if you’re already on the floor unconscious??

He whips open the ferrari’s garage door and finds you talking to one of the mechanic’s you made friends with. He looks down at your shoelaces, still untied. He rushes over, double knotting your laces and letting out a sigh of relief before leaving you confused.

[jinftranda]

Words I Wasn’t Able To Tell You ✧⁠*⁠。

CHAPTER 3

Synopsis: You were transported to another universe along with Ekko and Heimerdinger. Let’s just say that you didn’t expect Sevika to be your close friend in this universe, especially after she betrayed you.

Content: mu!Reader x au!Sevika, self insert : p, friends to lovers, sfw (i’ll just edit this shit if i forget something) 1st au so plz be nice 🙏

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter ??

“Welcome to mi casa!” Sevika opens the front door of her home dramatically. The door reveals a warm and comforting-looking home, these are the types of surroundings that the Sevika from your world would never live in. Her house from where you came from would never be warm and comforting like her home here, who would still have time to decorate their home when they’re under threat all the time? Of course not Sevika.

A flash of Sevika’s alley appeared. You recall the empty spaces of her alley, a couch, table, and boxes only fill her alley. Compared to this—

“Here you go again, Spacegirl” Sevika snaps her fingers when she sees you space out. Sevika enters her home after removing her outside shoes and going directly to the kitchen.

“Remove your shoes before you even think of jumping on the couch, I got you those fluffy slippers that you were gunning about at the shop, wear those instead. Grab my slippers as well, please.” Sevika spoke while grabbing utensils and tools in the kitchen.

How is this even Sevika?

You followed her instructions and saw two pairs of slippers behind the front door. A pair of regular black rubber slippers and the specific pair that Sevika told you about earlier.

It’s a fluffy pink bunny slippers.

You pick up the slippers and you remember wanting them before, back where you came from. You also remembered telling Sevika about these slippers and she gave them to you as a birthday present, unfortunately, you never saw the slippers again when— you know, she did that to you..

“Did you get my slippers already?”

“O-oh, right, I’m coming!” you shouted at Sevika after wearing the pair of slippers she got you, you also grabbed her pair as well.

“What took you so long?” Sevika questions and raises her eyebrows at you.

“Almost got lost in your home, sorry” You immediately came up with an excuse, she’d tease you if she found out you were spacing out, again.

“You and I both know that you know my house better than me—”

“Thank you for buying me those slippers, I didn’t expect you to actually buy them.”

Sevika didn’t know how to take affection very well, and your thankfulness made her flush.

“Oh, you’re welcome. Couldn’t bear the noises coming out of your mouth about those damn slippers that’s why I bought them.” Sevika snickers at you and laughs.

“I’m not that noisy.. or am I?” you have no clue if you’re noisy at this place. You do have people complaining back at home about how loud you are when you’re expressing feelings.

“Stop asking me the most obvious question, Spacegirl.” Sevika teases you with that nickname, again. You were about to have a rebuttal with her but she immediately spoke.

“Help me with my stove, will you? It stopped working again but there’s no way I’m paying a fortune for these suckers”

“Y-your stove..? What, haha..” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Yeah, you’re the only one who knows their way into my stove. Fix it up or no lunch for you” Sevika threatens sarcastically while pointing at you.

You keep forgetting that you’re this technology and builder master at this place, you wouldn’t have even known if Sevika didn’t mention the innovator’s competition— that you supposedly participated in..

“I-i’d l-love to, but uh.. I forgot how those things w-work..? Maybe call someone else? Haha...”

“You fixed these yesterday?”

“OH WOW? I DID THAT? I didn’t know that..” you really, didn’t. Your voice kept going quieter every time a word came out of your mouth.

Sevika looks at you weirdly.

“Just get the job done.”

“O-oh I f-forgot my tools! Can’t fix these things without those helpful.. t-tools!” you’d immediately be shot dead if you’re held at gunpoint and you have to make excuses.

“I bought another set of tools, it’s under the sink. So you don’t have to keep going back to your place, back and forth.”

“Oh?”

“Yes?”

“I-I’d love to fix it but I—”

“Nevermind, don’t sweat it, I’ll just do it myself.” Sevika sounds annoyed.

SHIT

“No! I’ll get right into it!” you pushed Sevika out of the way and grabbed the toolbox under the sink.

“You really don’t have too.”

“Just move out of the way!” you block Sevika from her stove and pick up a tool randomly from the box. You're just gonna have to crank it.

“Why are you holding pliers? Aren’t you supposed to—”

“I got this!” you shouted at her face.

“You don’t, just get out of the way.”

“No, no, no—”

“Just get out!”

“I’ll fix this in a blink of an eye!”

You and Sevika are practically hitting and shouting at each other’s faces. You keep swatting her in the face using your hands, not until she curses loudly.

“Shit!”

You look up at Sevika and you see a long cut on her left forearm. You immediately peak at the pliers you’re holding and see blood on them, the pliers must have cut through Sevika’s skin while the two of you are bickering at each other. You drop the pliers on the ground after the realization.

“Sevika I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean too—”

“Shut it” She turns her back to you and facepalms.

“It was totally an accident, I swear—”

“I have no problem that you don’t wanna fix my stove, you could’ve just said it straight to my face,” Sevika muttered under her breath.

“No, you got it wro—”

“Why do you have to be such a jerk about it, huh? Why not say it to me directly!”

“What? It’s not that I don’t want to help you, it’s just that—”

“What other excuse are you going to make up to get out of this?”

You hate to admit it, but Sevika is right.

You look down, just proving Sevika’s point even more. You want to tell her the truth but what is she going to say, that I’m not getting enough sleep, again?

“I’ve had enough of what you’ve done today.” Sevika turns her body around you. You look up to see her face, she looks mad.

The Sevika you’re standing in front of looks like the Sevika you knew back home.

“I let those pass through my head, but now? I won’t. I won’t tolerate any of your behavior earlier again. I keep telling myself that you’re just stressed and anxious about that stupid innovator’s competition shit.” Sevika pauses.

“But you aren’t.”

“You keep asking me why I left you when I never did!” Sevika shouts, and you look at her with a blank face.

“But this time—” You look at her in the eyes, waiting for what she’s going to say.

“I’m actually leaving you.”

You were taken aback by what Sevika said.

“Sevika I—”

“Get out, now!”

You try reasoning her out but she won’t accept it. Should’ve done it earlier..

You sigh in defeat and walk out of the kitchen, you look at her again. Sevika’s inspecting the cut on her forearm, she turns her head at you when she notices your presence.

Your eyes shoot up and grab your bag placed on a shelf that you supposedly left her house a few days ago. You grab the bag lazily and the items near where your bag is placed falls off.

You got up on your knees and picked up the small and large items. You grab something that instantly caught your eyes.

Your eyes shine at a specific item.

A picture of you and Sevika in a frame. The frame is decorated with intricate flower designs. You look at the other pictures on the table, you took a closer look at the frames for each picture and you looked back at the frame with you and Sevika’s picture.

The details on this frame you’re holding have more details than the others.

‘Is that supposed to mean something special?’

You put down the frame back on the shelf when you hear Sevika’s footsteps. You pick up the items faster than you did before and placed it back on the shelf.

You stood up from the ground and looked at Sevika, her left forearm now has bandages covering up the cut.

You looked away and put the bag over your shoulder and left her house.

‘How am I going to fix this?’

an: idk if ppl do actually read my fics but sorry for not updating yesterday guys, i was at the hospital scheduling for the measuring of my body jacket ( i have scoliosis and this body jacket will straighten my spine ) i was at the hospital when i wrote this and we kept switching places and i wasn’t able to focus properly writing this : / i’ll make the next chapters longer, i promisee. thank you for reading ’til the end : D.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated : 3

[woncon]

➳ black boots

➶ poly! fem!stray kids x gn!reader (hyunbinilix focus)｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ You have a freshly bought pair of black boots, a date night, a short girlfriend and a plan.

➴ genre: poly, slice of life, non-idol au, college/university au, domestic fluff, estabilished relationship

: ̗̀➛ warnings: suggestive themes, petnames & nicknames, reader adoring their girlfriends (literally falling for one of them)

: ̗̀➛ the name changes: chris = christine; changbin = chaebin; felix = felicity; minho = minhee/mina; the gender-neutral names (jisung, seungmin, jeongin, hyunjin) are the same.

⌨ :: 4k words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ hi!! this is the first time i wrote with fem!skz, and i loved 👏 every 👏 second 👏 of it. in this one-shot not every lady pops up, and the focus is mainly on hyunjin, felicity, chaebin and the reader. however, in the future i would really like to go deeper into this au and put together a plot that includes the others as well, their dynamic and stuff.❤️

⁀➷ also, thanks for @wonsheep for betaing! 💓

➳ mlist

The hall carpet is covered with shoes. Running shoes, casual shoes, winter boots. Seungmin's small and large studded boots. In the next box you find rest Minhee's red, pointy heels, nothing to do with the black boots you're desperately searching for. And to be fair, it's quite funny that you find their shoes, who don't even live here, before you find your own. 

You sigh in frustration and sit down on your heels. Fewer and fewer boxes remain, and with them less and less hope of finding them before you have to go on the date.

“Wait a minute!” Felicity, who came to your rescue about half an hour ago, pulls out a pair of boots. These seem to be the ones you're looking for, but the feeling immediately passes. Yours have laces, and they're not that high.

“These are Binnie's platform boots,” you identify them. Another pair of shoes from someone who also doesn't live here.

Your girlfriend takes a closer look at the two pieces. “Oh. Sorry.”

“You couldn't have known. I bought it over the weekend, I don't think anyone's seen it yet, just the box. It has a brown box and I remember putting it here.” You pat the closet door. “Right. Here.”

You already took everything you could from that drawer. No black boots, just the closet mockingly gaping at you.

“What if someone accidentally put it on?” Felicity suggests. “Hyune was late for her Picasso seminar today. Maybe she picked up the first thing she could get her hands on and ran for the bus.”

“In that case, she would have left the box at home, right?” You also remember that Hyunjin is in the bathroom. "And she would have taken it off since then."

“You’re right…”

You lean your palm on the forest of shoes and kiss Felicity's cheek where the freckles are the densest. "It's okay, Lissy. I'll find it someday. If not today, I'll pull something else. I'll borrow one of Minnie's boots, for example. There's so much here. Wow.”

“But you were so excited to put it on!” She gives your wrist a dedicated squeeze. “We'll find it, and you'll come in it, and everyone will be at your feet.”

You smile and laugh at that, because that's partly what you're aiming for with the shoes. You want to impress somebody. The fact that Felicity's noticed just proves how much she understands.

“We're going to interview everyone and go through Bin unnie's apartment and Minnie's dorm. This isn’t brownie to vanish without a trace.”

“What if the shoe fairy took it?” you ask.

Felicity narrows her eyes menacingly in response, her voice tinglingly deep. “Then I'll find her, grab her wings, and stick Mina unnie’s high heels up her ass.”

Just the visual image alone makes you grimace. “Ouch.”

"If she's been messing with you, she deserves it," she shrugs.

After finding out that Hyunjin doesn't know anything about the shoes, you make a phone call. Jisung, who also lives with you but spent the weekend at the Christine-Minhee-Chaebin trio's apartment, has nothing of substance to say either, other than that she's on her way home. One more call and it turns out it wasn't the shoe fairy who took your boots, but Jeongin.

“I wanted to make sure to pick the right shades for your date outfits. Chaebin unnie had an idea for pants and I had to see if they matched your shoes. I forgot to tell you. When I bring over Lissy unnie's dress, I'll bring that too,” promises your enthusiastic, dedicated fashion guru, whose dorm room is probably in a similar mess as your hallway; your brought-over clothes scattered but carefully laid out everywhere.

“And did Binnie see it?” you ask.

“I was careful, baby. It was in the box the whole time. And she'll be wearing sneakers like you wanted.”

"You're an angel, Innie," you say gratefully, breaking the line.

Felicity frowns. She heard it all, she just doesn't understand. But she waits in vain for an explanation. With a cryptic smile, you wink at her, then scramble to stretch your weary legs and pour motivation into yourself to put the shoe army back in the drawer.

///

As a final touch, you adjust your socks and check the laces. At last, everything is restored: the shoes you threw out are packed back in. You're wearing the clothes you had planned on wearing, complete with your new black boots.

“So?” you ask.

“Wow, that's big," Felicity says, surprised. “Until you’ve pulled it out, it looked smaller.”

“That's what she said," Jisung steps into the hallway with a waggle of her eyebrows. Felicity laughs and nudges her shoulder. 

Then Jisung looks you up and down. So far she has unpacked and given a detailed account of her weekend. She hasn't had a chance to look at your date outfit yet, so she takes the time to do that before she takes a critical look at your shoes. “Sexy. You can stay.” Though she grins playfully, her expression exudes a kind of sincere affection and fascination that makes heat begin to bubble in your chest. 

“You mean... at home?” In your mind, the afternoon, most of which you spent searching for shoes and the rest of which you spent in excited preparation, slowly rolls by in a series of images. Also, there was some serious planning going on this week, juggling daily schedules so that you could finally go on a longer date with some of your girlfriends, not just quick meetings during coffee breaks between meetings or classes. It would be silly to throw it all away.

"For real," Jisung nods vigorously. You're sure there are images flashing in her head too, just probably different ones, judging by the way her gaze stops at your thighs and how she bites her lip slightly. “You could stay, but you wouldn't stay clothed for long.”

..Okay. The others will understand that you're throwing everything away. They'd do the same if Jisung looked at them like that.

“No!” Jeongin, appearing on the doorstep, seems to be shouting at your thoughts. You flinch. She doesn't approach you, she stops next to Jisung and Felicity, but she's still quite intimidating, and you still get the impression that she's actually snapping at your thoughts. “No way, unnie. You don't have the right to corrupt my masterpiece yet.”

“Oh?”

“I've worked hard on the composition. For hours. The four of them will look wonderful together if you let them.”

“They'd look wonderful naked together too…” Jisung reports wistfully.

Jeongin sighs. She sighs with similar resignation when Doongie ruffles her cardigan. The sigh is exasperated, but the expression on her face is one of fascination. Love. "Unnie, please."

As Jeongin pleads with Jisung, you too are compelled to bear with yourself. Thanks to this, you remember one of the highlights of your evening, the one you've planned, when the footwear you've chosen really comes into its own, and thus, where the fire of desire has just flared inside you, it settles back to excitement.

Jisung snorts in surrender. “Fine, Innie-yah. I'll wait.” She blows out the air as if her lips were Pandora's box, and now all the horror has been set on its way.

“What's gotten into you, Hanie?” asks Felicity. She and Jisung are usually on the same wavelength, and easily understand each other's feelings. Sometimes they seem to read each other's minds. Now the blonde girl can't read the other either.

“Nothing extra,” she waves her hand, but at the same time she measures your body again with a dreamy expression. “Just a half-finished lyric about Y/nie's thighs and how nice it would be to die between them.” She bites her lower lip again. It's probably involuntary, but even if it's on purpose, you can't resent it. You love biting her as well, her lips always soft and sensitive under your teeth.

“Did you write it?” you wonder. It'd be surprising. It's not that Jisung doesn't like your thighs, she just doesn't write about them. To your knowledge, the last time Jisung wrote about legs was when she put the story of one of her iconic falls into song. The case involved a stuffed guitar case, the pavement and her untied shoelaces. 

“It was written by someone who loves traffic and vehicle metaphors.”

Oh. 

So Christine writes lyrics about your thighs. It makes you feel like a voyeur peeping through a curtainless window to see yourself on the other side. Christine between your thighs– the thought makes the skin on the back of your neck heat up. You stroke it with the palm of your hand, as if that will cancel out the hopeful flood of heat, the hot feeling that simply knowing Christine is fantasizing about you on scraps of paper has brought out in you. 

There is something particularly flattering, sweetly special about being the love of artists. 

“Muse?”

You raise your head. At the same time, Felicity, Jisung and Jeongin turn around like three curious meerkats. And Hyunjin giggles, realizing that she calls you all her muses. “Fee. Y/nie. Are you ready?”

“Fuck,” cries the blonde. “I forgot my lip gloss.” With that, she disappears inside the apartment to finish her make-up.

Meanwhile, Jeongin and Jisung make room for Hyunjin, and you look at her as if you're seeing her for the first time. She has her hair done up high, in a bun on the top of her head. Gold earrings jingle by her neck. Lips glowing red with lipstick. She's wearing a black, form-fitting dress and body-coloured stockings. There is no shoes on her feet, but as you're standing in the hallway, that's about to change soon. 

It's so different from the Hyunjin emerging with brushes poked through her locks and paint-stained, frayed jeans on her way to the bathroom break from her studio or a flash of colour in the living room as she rushes to her university class. This Hyunjin stops now, or even stops time with her exuberant beauty, because time wants to delight in her too, and preserve her in this moment.

“Wow. You are…” Gorgeous. Amazing. Breathtaking, “wife material,” you whisper. 

The next moment you're kneeling in front of her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jeongin put her hand to her mouth and Jisung's lips part.

“What are you doing?” asks Hyunjin, surprised. Like someone who doesn't dare to breathe. 

Your knees are weak at the sight of her, that's the case. “I just... just, uh, can I help you put your shoes on?” You finally offer hopefully. “So your clothes don't wrinkle. Or– Or your stockings.”

Hyunjin gives you a gentle smile. “I want to wear my black patent leather shoes.”

While you take out said pair, Jisung and Jeongin come to their senses. The latter tries to pretend that she knew you were not serious or had different intentions than you seemed to, but she cannot speak. Jisung, on the other hand, is starting to indulge in a monologue.

“Damn, it was something, I mean I almost had a heart attack, and, and, well, actually it would have been a nice death, and I could see the drama before my eyes, because wow, how brutal would it be if Y/n wanted Chaebin's wife too–”

Hyunjin lifts her leg for you. Jisung decides to keep quiet and just be a spectator to the events. You slip the shiny-soled shoe onto Hyunjin's foot, and then, with deft movements, you buckle it. You repeat the procedure with the other leg. Hyunjin rewards your patient, dedicated work with a hand extended towards you. When you're done, she pulls you into a standing position.

“You look impressive too, you know. These boots really suit you. If I could, I'd paint you right here.”

You smile gratefully at her, and are happy to let her kiss your hand. The imprint of her lipstick remains on your skin, but it doesn't bother you in the least. You will wear it for the rest of the day like a precious jewel.

“I'm ready!” Felicity glides in like a cheerful blonde whirlwind in a cloud of vanilla perfume. Her pink, floral dress swirls with her as she presses a loud kiss to Jisung's cheek, then Jeongin's, and then strolls over to you in her sandals. “We're not late, are we?”

Although you spent many seconds during the ritual of putting on your retrieved shoes admiring her, you are not too surprised to find that you are not yet satiated by the sight of Felicity. Perhaps you never will be. At least you'll have the whole evening to watch her, and chat with her and the others about trivia or world affairs or whatever the mood brings. You just want to be with them, the rest is extra.

“If we were about to be late, I wouldn't look like this,” Hyunjin chuckles, hugging the younger one around the waist. “Don't worry.”

“Leave though,” Jeongin urges you. “And have a great time, ok?”

“Okay, Innie-yah, you'll be rid of us soon,” Hyunjin rolls her eyes, “and you'll have Jisung all to yourself.”

“Yikes,” says Jeongin with her arms crossed.

“Hey!”

Jisung's offended cry melts as Jeongin turns to her, kisses her cheek, and then walks into the apartment. 

“Oh, oh. Yeah. Go ahead,” Jisung gives a thumbs up, and retreats. “Innie-yah, what are your plans? Are you going back to the dorm or are you staying?” You can still hear her hopeful echo.

Felicity rattles her keychain, with all its decorations. “Then let's go on a date!” 

You click your heels together like you're Dorothy. Sadly, that won't magically get you all to the restaurant entrance. You have to get there on your two feet, the shoes feeling like stones tied to them. But you'll get used to it. You break them in, as Minhee would say, who has a penchant for breaking in high heels and other shoes. And as you break them in, you'll hold Felicity's soft little hand.

///

Once again, Chaebin has found a comfortable place. She had booked a table on the terrace. The golden glow of the light bulbs hanging above the tables is like stars stolen from the sky. The smell of meat frying on rich fat spreads. Clinking cutlery duets with the soft jazz that emanates from the space inside.

Stretching your neck, you search for a beautiful woman at a nearly empty table. It's not hard to spot a bored goddess among the many chattering table companions, playing with the rim of her wine glass and occasionally sighing deeply. What a sign.

The fact that your boots are taller doesn't save you from the sensation of falling. In fact, it makes you fall deeper into the heat of love.

Hyunjin doesn't need to signal that you have a reservation, because Chaebin waves vigorously as soon as she spots you. Boredom melts off her face instantly, and she slaps the surface of the table with a wide grin, signalling, come here, please. She's always hungry and eager after a workout, but for now, she's only got the glass of wine in front of her. 

“Have you ordered yet, wifey?” Hyunjin asks, taking a seat next to her. She rests her hand on the back of the seat and slides her legs over her thigh, and as you sit down you see the nose of her shoe brushing Chaebin's black denim-clad calf. Felicity sits next to you, facing them.

“Nothing on the menu was as desirable as you,” Chaebin says with a grin. “Thank you for spending the evening with me.”

“C'mon, unnie,” Felicity snorts, reaching for the menu. “It's our pleasure.”

You try to find a comfortable position on the cushioned chair, while not taking your eyes off Chaebin. 

She's like a spark of optimism. When you look at her, the world is a better place. And it's also so good to look at her: her simple, pink T-shirt, the way the soft, warm crocheted cardigan wraps around her arms and makes it look big compared to the wearer, hiding what muscles are really straining underneath; her hair falling freely; her sweet smile, her face glowing with life; the fading traces of love marks peeking out from under her shirt, around her collarbone. 

“You planning on getting down on your knees again?” Hyunjin's innocent-sounding but devastating question interrupts the long moment you spend staring at Chaebin. You blink slowly, as if waking from a dream, but the flush is creeping rapidly up your skin, covering your face in a hot wave.

“Excuse me, but what?” Chaebin elbows on the table and leans closer to you, eager for you to share anything and everything. Those beautiful, sparkling eyes of hers now look only at you, and you would never do anything to make that light fade or die. You want it to shine always. And you know that Chaebin would never judge you for what happened in the hallway, nor would she laugh derisively, so you're not afraid to open up to her.

You adjust the tablecloth with a faint smile. “I helped your wife put on her shoes. But you know her: she overdramatizes everything.”

Chaebin laughs. Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. The laughter turns into a throat clearing. “The secret of our long marriage is that I don't blame her for her mistakes,” Chaebin announces with a serious expression, as if she's truly married to Hyunjin. Then she leans closer, intimately. “Another secret of our marriage is that it is open. Surprisingly open. So... Do you have plans for me too?”

You have many, many plans for this beautiful woman. So many, in fact, that they'll last you a lifetime. Even though you open your mouth, you can't make a sound. Felicity beats you to it.

“You're right,” she says. She holds the menu so high that Chaebin can only see the top of her head, not the conspirational wink she gives you. 

Your blonde lover seems eager to help you with your plan.

“Really?” Chaebin tilts her head to the side. Hyunjin's interest is also piqued, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if she could see into you with a squint, reading all your secrets like a cat. She learned this willingly and surely from Minhee. Or from one of your girlfriend's cats, the point is the same.

“You'll see,” you promise. “Today.”

“I can't wait, darling.”

A waiter approaches your table. You feel it's time to follow Felicity's example and take the menu to study it closely. Of course, you won't be able to do so as thoroughly as you have just immersed yourself in the beauty of Chaebin.

///

While Hyunjin and Chaebin are in the bathroom, Felicity reapplies her lip gloss. She parts her lips and watches her movements in her tiny handheld mirror, tracing the path of the pink glittering brush.

“How do you want to do it?” she asks as she closes the mirror with a flick and drops the make-up product into her bag.

Since she went on your shoe-finding tour with you, persistent and supportive, there's no reason to hide it from her. You share your plan with her, and she nods as she listens.

“I'll take Hyune up to the apartment. We won't disturb you.”

You blink in dismay. How can your lovers bother you when you're with one of them?

“This will be an intimate moment,” she explains. “And I feel it should be a moment for the two of you.” She gives you a committed look.

“As you wish, Lissy.”

Hyunjin returns. She picks up her small bag from the chair and props her chair up expectantly. As the three of you leave the table, Chaebin is stuffing the bill into the pocket of her sweater, holding the rest of the leftover boxes with her other hand.

“If you don't mind, we'll take you home to our place, pretty,” Felicity purrs to her, stroking Chaebin's side.

She doesn't mind.

You step up to help with the boxes. For the first time, you stand side by side with your black boots creating an even greater height difference between you. It's enjoyable, very much so.

“New shoes?” A look of surprise crosses her face.

“Do you like it?”

Chaebin nods in agreement, and you all make your way towards the exit.

///

Felicity easily manages to leave you and Chaebin behind. In fact, before she switches to a faster pace, she takes the boxes from both of you, while also dragging Hyunjin away, who has been whispering in Chaebin's ear with enthusiasm, making your girlfriend giggle sweetly. When Chaebin wants to hurry after them because she probably suspects gossip in the air, you speak up.

“Binnie, wait. I owe you a confession.”

The door slams shut behind Felicity and Hyunjin. It's just the two of you on the sidewalk, drenched in the streetlights.

“Oh, all right.”

Your girlfriend grins and doesn't move. You step in front of her, the nose of your boots kissing the nose of her shoes. 

Chaebin must turn her head all the way up to look you in the eye. And oh dear– her eyes. So shiny. Maybe while you were walking under the open sky, stardust fell into it. Or an entire, endlessly glowing galaxy. In fact, there might be a whole galaxy hiding inside her body: strong muscles, bright emotions and a sweet laugh vibrating through the cosmos. 

Woe to you. You want so badly to sweep her off her feet with your black boots that you let her pull the rug out from under you with her mere existence.

“I bought these shoes for you. To see you like this.”

She frowns.

“So,” you stroke her face with your free hand, “from this height. You're even more beautiful from here.”

“Excuse me, but we're talking about a few centimetres,” Chaebin's face flushes red, but she doesn't pull away.

“A few centimetres can do wonders. I see you differently. You're still fabulous, by the way.”

A giggle comes out of her. A soft, sweet voice that dispels the evening darkness and makes the world a few shades more beautiful. “Okay, I like how a little height makes you so confident.” She puts her hand on your waist and pulls you closer. “Keep going.”

You both know that if Chaebin wanted to, she could easily throw you over her shoulder like a rag doll. How tall you are or what the heel of your shoe looks like doesn't change the fact that she trains her body on a daily basis. That little detail aside; Chaebin isn't the kind of girl who just throws her partners around, and you can flirt with her in a way that makes her knees go weak and heat pour into every single one of her cells.

“Do you know why Hyunjin always wants to kiss you?”

“Ah, it's an eternal secret. Maybe I accidentally gave her a love potio–” Your finger slides over Chaebin's lips and she falls silent.

“From this height, your mouth is plumper. Even more kissable.”

“Hey... You talk as if I were irresistible,” she murmurs to your fingertip. The skin tingles where her lips touch it.

“Because that's the way it is. You,” a soft kiss to her forehead, “are,” a kiss to her nose, “irresistible,” then to her cheek.

“Come on, you giant. Give me a proper kiss.”

Your fingers slide down her neck, your tongue in her mouth. The taste of wine mingles with love, and you're drugged. You almost drop your own presence of mind. Chaebin embraces you, pulling you close. She holds you. When your hand slips between the locks of her silky hair, she groans. The sound has the same effect on you as when you hear her laugh. Her heart murmurs a ragged confession against your chest, and yours responds in a similar rhythm.

You don't know how long you stand like this, lost in each other. 

You know you could do this forever, here or elsewhere. 

Anywhere.

“I really like your black boots, darling,” notes Chaebin, panting. “If you feel like it, wear them on our next date.”

“I'll think about it.”

You walk to the door of the building. Your black boots proudly knocking with every step.

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[daysofyellowroses]

fries

carmen berzatto x reader | 1.1k

prompt was: Carmy getting all sassy and dom like bc his girl spent money on herself instead of using his card/calling him and telling him that you wanted something and to pick it up off hold on his way home!! That is such a HC for me I feel Carmy would be super pouty if his girl bought something expensive or ‘necessary for him’ like your makeup, hair stuff, clothes, shoes, etc. ESP food he like gets so upset when she will pick herself up McDonald’s or smth and is like “baby why didn’t you tell me you were craving a burger and fries” - as requested by @thecapricunt1616 thank you so much, i hope you enjoy 🌼

🐻

Sometimes you think you know everything about your boyfriend. If someone quizzed you, you would ace it. It's only been just under a year since you started dating Carmy but in that time you had learned everything about him, or so you thought.

There were things that you didn't know every detail about, like his family, particularly his mom, but you knew that he would talk about those things in time, when he was ready.

What you didn't expect was that he would have a certain..kink, one you wouldn't have expected him to have but was a very pleasant surprise. 

It had happened incrementally, you first noticed when you came home after work one day with a pair of new sneakers. When you showed them to Carm he seemed a little..off. It wasn't exactly something to celebrate but you found it a little odd that he didn't seem to care when usually he was so attentive and loving.

You put it down to a long day at work and forgot about it. 

Until it happened again, when you came home after a splurge on makeup and skincare products. He found you putting them away in the bathroom and just walked away, leaving you deeply confused. 

When you asked him if everything was okay he said it was, and you decided not to push it. You noticed that he was a little more attentive than usual, keeping you in his lap while you relaxed on the couch, insisted on getting you whatever you wanted, carried you to bed when you started falling asleep. It wasn't that he never did those things usually, you just felt like he was doing more somehow.

Deciding to test out the beginnings of a theory, you waited a week or so before deciding to really treat yourself, splashing out on a pair of expensive heels that you had wanted for so long. As you were the first one home, you put the shoes away and waited for Carmy to get home.

He was his usual sweet self, and you were a little excited to test out your theory. You waited until Carm was making dinner, and you were sitting on the counter watching him.

“Oh my god, I have to show you something,” You smiled, getting down from the counter. “I'll be right back.”

You went to your bedroom, opening the closet and reaching into the back to take out the bag with your new shoes before carrying it to the kitchen behind your back. 

“Look what I got,” You grinned, holding out the bag. “I may have gone a little overboard but I really wanted these.”

You set the bag down on the ground and took the box out, feeling Carmy's eyes on you. 

“How beautiful are these?” You opened the box and took out one of the shoes. “They were almost three hundred but I figure I'll keep them forever so..”

“Three hundred?” Carm raised a brow, his hand on his hip. “You spent three hundred?”

“Yes, I did,” You smiled, feeling like your theory was about to be proved. You looked at the shoe in your hand, turning it slowly. “But work is going well and I really wanted them so..”

“You shouldn't have bought them,” Carm sighed, reaching for the dish towel that was draped over his shoulder and wiping his hands. “That's too much.”

“I'll buy what I want,” You frowned, putting the shoe back in the box. “It's my money I'm spending, not yours.”

“But it should be.” Carmy muttered, meeting your eyes.

“What do you mean?” You asked, stepping closer to him and setting the box in your hands down on the counter. “I don't expect you to drop that kind of money on me.”

“I want to,” Carmy insisted, his arm moving around your waist. “I know that you can afford all those things you want, but..I want to treat you, I want you to tell me what you want and let me get if for you, or take my card and go get it.”

“Please don't feel like you have to do that,” You smiled, touching Carmy's cheek. “I don't care if you buy me things or I buy them myself, just being with you is all I want.”

Carm was quiet for a moment, gently stroking your waist before leaning in to kiss you, your arms moving around his neck.

“It's more than that,” Carm murmured softly against your lips, pulling back to meet your eyes. “I know you don't expect me to, and I know I don't have to but..the thought of seeing you in clothes that I bought you, knowing you're out treating yourself to things and using my money to do it..I want that.”

You take in his words, your hands lightly touching the back of Carm's neck. “Does it..does the thought of that do it for you?”

“Big time,” Carm nodded, and you felt your heart race. “I keep thinking about you coming home, showing off all the things you bought on my card, giving me a little show..”

“I think I know what I should buy first then.” You grinned, leaning in to kiss Carm. 

Dinner is delayed, and you don't quite make it to the bedroom, but you feel like you've never been happier. 

As it turned out, Carm wasn't lying about wanting you to spend his money. You didn't go crazy, you weren't going to buy something just for the sake of it. But when you came home with a bag full of new lingerie and handed his card back to him, Carm had you screaming like you never had before. 

So, once a week or so you treat yourself to a little something, just to bring out a more possessive, dominant side of your boyfriend, loving how he can go from adorable and soft to calling you a spoiled brat and having you begging for more.

And apparently, his fondness for you spending his money wasn't limited to clothes, shoes and underwear, but there was one exception. 

You had come home from work with a McDonald's, knowing Carmy would be home late and that you weren't in the mood to cook. You were just sitting down to eat it, scrolling through your phone when the front door opened.

“Hey,” You smiled, picking Carmy's card up from the table and taking a sip of your milkshake as you handed it to him.

“What's this?” Carm frowned, pointing to the food on the table.

“This?” You grinned, pointing to the McDonald's bag. “Just a little restaurant, you've probably never heard of it, it's only got like a billion locations.”

“Very funny,” Carm sighed, pushing his hand through his hair.

“Are you..pouting?” You grinned. “Over a burger?”

“I could have made you a better burger,” Camy shrugged. “That's all.”

“I know,” You nodded, swishing your shake with a grin. “But only your money can get this.”

“You think I can't make you a milkshake?” Carmy raised a brow.

“Not like this,” You teased. “You don't know the secret ingredients.”

“I'm making you a damn shake. And a burger."

[petersasteria]

Mine In Every Lifetime - Choi Seunghyun/T.O.P

Pairing: Seunghyun x fem!Reader Summary: in which seunghyun is distraught about your breakup, but a trip to a quaint antique shop in a small town makes him realize a few things.

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The breakup took a huge toll on him. He felt awful for losing the love of his life over something stupid. He blamed himself for what happened and in the end, it was too late when he came to his senses that you were being ignored in the relationship. The guys were there for him, though. He was extremely grateful for them because they made sure he ate, showered, and changed clothes. Over time, he was able to be himself again. Though, he was still thinking of you and keeping tabs on you. After all, he still loved you.

On one of his day offs, Seunghyun decided to go to a small town and walk around in anonymity. He did all kinds of stuff. He went shopping for fresh food, bought a house plant, bought snacks in a small grocery shop, and ate at local restaurants. His heart was full and for the first time since the breakup, he was happy. Deciding that his hands were full, Seunghyun placed everything in his car before locking it and walking around more.

As he took a stroll, he noticed a quaint little antique shop. He wasn't supposed to go in, but curiosity got the best of him. As he entered, he saw a lot of trinkets from the past. Old stamps ripped for envelopes, old newspapers for scrapbooking, figurines of deities probably passed down from generation to generation, old mirrors, empty picture frames, and other antiques.

He grabbed a basket and picked out a few trinkets to give to the boys and just as he was about to pay, he saw a box of old photos. He raised an eyebrow and whispered to himself, "Now, who would buy old photos of people they don't know?"

Still, he browsed through the photos and smiled. As an artist, he was able to see through the photos. Sure, he found it awkward that people were buying photos of these random people, but as he really looked, he realized that they weren't just people. He realized that those people lived lives and he suddenly felt grateful that he got a glimpse of them through the photos. In most of the photos, he noticed that there were couples.

Wedding photos, honeymoon photos, photos with a couple's newborn, and other simple joys of being with the one they love. Seeing those photos made his heart ache. He loved and missed you a lot. His mind started flashing your old photos together and if he only thought you were the one before, he was definitely sure now that you're the one for him. No hesitations. He knew he had to tell you. He bought the things and he bought his favorite photos from the past. He went back to the store that sold him his new house plant and bought you a cute little succulent.

By the time he got back to the city, it was already night time. He went home first to drop off the things he bought for himself and the guys, changed his clothes, and drove straight to your apartment.

As he walked to your door, he felt a little nervous. He was holding the succulent in one hand and the photos in the other. He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

You were watching a show on Netflix when you heard the doorbell rang. You weren't expecting any guest, so you were surprised to see Seunghyun on the other side of the door when you opened it.

Both of you stared at each other before he cleared his throat and said, "Um, may I come in?"

You simply nodded, still in shock. You stepped to the side to let him in and you quickly shut the door behind him. He kicked off his shoes, set the succulent down on your coffee table, and he got comfortable on your couch.

You sat next to him and both of you faced each other. "So, how've you been?" You asked in a small voice.

"I'd love to answer that question, but not now. I have something to get off my chest and I just want to say it, okay?" Seunghyun said nervously. You nodded your head, nerves getting the best of you too.

"I miss you, Y/N. I'm so sorry for what you went through in our relationship. You didn't deserve to be ignored and I'm mad at myself for letting that happen. I was stupid. I'm sorry for not trying more, but I'm tired of feeling sorry for what could've been. I can't keep doing that everyday. It's tiring and it's taking a toll on me mentally." He explained.

"I've decided to clear my head today, so I went to a small town and just relaxed. I went in this small antique shop and saw these old photos of random people." He said softly as he handed you the photos.

You browsed through them and smiled a small smile to see those people happy. A bride on her wedding day, young lovers at the drive-in cinema, an elderly couple on the front porch laughing, a newly married couple on their honeymoon at the beach, a soldier with his pregnant wife, and new parents holding their newborn baby.

"They're all nice, Seunghyun. What does this have to do with us, though?" You asked as you looked at him.

He smiled, taking the photos from your hands, placing them next to the succulent, and held your hands. "When I saw those photos, I immediately thought of us. While I was looking through them I was smiling the whole time because I saw us in them instead. It made me realize that our love for each other will never waver and it'll be there in every lifetime because I know we'll always find ways to be together."

You were crying at this point.

"I love you, Y/N. I'm sorry I didn't show it enough, but I'm not about to let you go because of that. I'll try harder, I promise. I don't want anyone else. I want to be with you and I want to experience the love those people felt and I want that with you. I want to take a bunch of photos with you, so we can look back at them. When our time is up on Earth, I'd look for you in the next life and do it all over again with you. And who knows? Maybe in that lifetime, our photos will be in an antique shop being sold for a few cents and we stumble upon it and we do the same thing." He chuckled through his tears.

"You really mean it?" You croaked.

He nodded with a bright smile, "There's nothing else I want more. I'd look into your eyes forever so that I'll know it's you for when we meet again next time. You're mine in every lifetime, Y/N, and I'm yours... if you'll have me."

He looked at you with hope in his eyes. You sniffed and playfully hit his arm.

"After professing your love for me, you really think I wouldn't take you back?! You're crazy if you thought I wouldn't take you back. I love you too, Seunghyun." You wiped your tears. He wiped his tears too and pulled you into a tight hug.

"I love you so much. I can't wait for the memories we'll make, baby." He said lovingly and kissed the top of your head.

-

a/n: may a love like this find us 🤍 hope u guys liked it!

permanent taglist: @redhoodedtoad @billiesiousji @hayd3n8 @sherrayyyyy @nbjch05 @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten @emmiesoverthemoon @breakmeoff @sayugarper @breakmeoff

seunghyun taglist: @loveesiren

[bloodwrittenletters]

LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!

pairing . . . jason grace x fem!reader

the cassette playing . . . so american! olivia rodrigo

the letter reads . . . some headcanons about you and your cute boyfriend: jason grace!

warnings . . . none!

a/n . . . i literally can't write anything to save my life these few days, so jason grace headcanons! this beautiful blonde boy deserves more love.

✴ he's the type of guy who would ask "can i be your boyfriend?"

✴ even before you started dating, he would go OUT OF HIS WAY (and everyone else's) to give you what you wanted.

✴ learns an specific type of hair routine to help you.

⤷ would ask piper, hazel, or annabeth for hair care products or how to take care of your hair type.

✴ the moment you guys start dating, all of his closet is yours.

⤷ you eventually start to feel bad and tell him he can also wear your clothes if he wants, a week later you find him wearing your pink top.

⤷ "i got stuck, but i look way too hot in this... can you help me take this off?"

✴ everything he makes in arts and crafts, he shows it to you.

⤷ half of the time, it's jewelry for you. the other half is for percy and leo.

✴ if you ever get in a discussion with one of his bros, he looks like a sad puppy for having to pick a side. but he always picks yours.

✴ whenever he goes to new rome alone, he comes back with millions of gift for you.

⤷ that either made him think of you, or thought it would be something you like.

✴ has shared a playlist with you.

⤷ before he asked you out, he made three playlists. "songs that would be ours if we were dating. / songs that remind me of her. / songs about one-sided pinning."

✴ he was surprised when he found out you also had a crush on him.

✴ supports everything you do. (sports, hobbies, etc etc)

✴ this man will 100% have a shoe box of things you gifted him, going from a chocolate wrap to comfort him when he first came to chb to glasses with little lighting bolts.

✴ if someone hits on him / ask him out (didn't know / didn't care he has a girlfriend) jason has two options:

⤷ "no, thanks. although my girlfriend would love to be your friend, have you met her yet?"

⤷ "no. i'm deeply in love with my girlfriend, have you seen how pretty she is? i bought her this bookmark yesterday."

✴ never really liked valentines day or any other holiday since it wasn't celebrated in camp jupiter, but goes all out with you in each one.

⤷ dress up with you for halloween if it's something you want to do, fills every room with hearts and flowers and takes you out in special dates for valentines day, plans your chritsmas gifts months ahead.

✴ if you have herritage ( or are ) from a different culture, he would learn everything and more.

⤷ makes sure that he respects it and honors it. learning your home language, learning your favorite foods, learning your history etc etc.

✴ he burns an extra piece of food for your godly parent.

✴ helps you with homework / does it with you.

✴ loves doing double dating.

⤷ your favorite one has been hazel and frank. his favorite one has been percy and annabeth.

⤷ if the second one happens, you and annie feel like the third wheel of their bromance.

✴ he doesn't have a good relationship with his dad, and... his mom is dead, so he introduces you to thalia, apollo, and maybe hera. also with all of your other friends.

⤷ "guys, this is yn."

⤷ "are you forgetting that i've known half of them longer than you have? did your amnesia came back?

⤷ "the voices in your head are getting louder, my love."

✴ that man LOVES pet names. specifically the original ones he comes up with for you.

✴ he loves to gossip with you.

✴ he is SO FUNNY. we have to stop pretending he's not.

✴ for your anniversary he would probably make you a memory book of your whole relationship.

✴ "i love you, good night, dear."

⤷ "are you staying with me? isn't that against the rules?"

⤷ "screw the rules. good night, my love."

✴ you're one of the few ones allowed to use his sword.

✴ loves matching outfits with you.

✴ he said, 'i love you' first. it was an accident when the two of you were in the middle of fighting monsters, and it just slipped.

✴ has your initials in a chain around his neck.