#i just think love– to love and to Be loved – are the answers to life‚ somehow.

[goldfades]

okay but a paige x highschool sweetheart headcannons…….🤫

you’ve known paige since middle school, back when she had braces and that oversized basketball hoodie she wore like a uniform. you weren’t best friends right away, though

she was the loud one, all confidence and easy laughter, and you were… not. but eighth grade science class changed that—she offered you half of her sandwich during a field trip, and suddenly, she was sitting next to you every day

and by the time high school started, paige was already a star

everyone knew her name, not just because she was the point guard who could do things no one else could, but because she had that kind of energy that pulled people in

and yet, her favorite place to be was still with you—sitting on your bedroom floor, eating pizza, and letting you quiz her on geometry proofs. she claimed you were her good luck charm whenever she passed a test

paige didn’t officially ask you out until sophomore year. she said she’d been working up the courage for months—you laughed because, honestly, what did paige bueckers have to be nervous about?

but she was fidgeting with the drawstring of her hoodie, looking at you like she’d miss her next shot if you said no. of course, you didn’t

being with paige meant learning to share her with the world. you went to all her games, cheered louder than anyone else, and learned to love the way she’d scan the crowd for you after every buzzer, that grin of hers lighting up the whole gym when she found you

she’d sneak you into post-game interviews sometimes, just so she could wink at you while pretending to answer a serious question

she loved basketball, sure, but she loved you, too—in a way that made it clear you weren’t just her high school sweetheart

you were her person, the one she wanted next to her, whether she was on the court or sitting on the roof of your car, counting stars

and when senior year rolled around—the stakes felt higher, both on and off the court. she was being courted by every top college program in the country, and you—you were figuring out what life after high school might look like for the two of you

late-night talks turned into plans scrawled in notebooks, filled with possibilities of visits, long-distance calls, and maybe even the same college, if the stars aligned just right

when the acceptance letters came in, it felt like fate. uconn for both of you!

paige couldn’t stop smiling for days, talking about how you’d get to keep cheering her on, just in a bigger arena. but the transition to college wasn’t as seamless as either of you had hoped

paige was the star recruit—the freshman everyone had their eyes on. she was juggling practice, games, media appearances, and the pressure of being "the next big thing"

meanwhile, you were trying to find your footing in a new environment, feeling a little like you were standing in her shadow for the first time

it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but there were nights when it felt like the distance between you wasn’t just physical. you missed the simplicity of high school, the way things felt so easy back then

paige tried—she really did—to balance it all, but sometimes it felt like basketball demanded every piece of her

by sophomore year, the fights started. little things at first—missed plans, forgotten texts. but they added up, like a pressure cooker ready to burst. there was one night, after a particularly tough loss, when everything came out

"i’m trying my best, okay?" she’d said, voice raw. "you think i don’t miss how things used to be? but this… this is my dream. and i don’t know how to do it all."

"and what about us?" you’d shot back, tears in your eyes. "am i supposed to just wait around while basketball gets all of you?"

it was the kind of fight that felt like a turning point—the kind where you either figure it out or fall apart. and somehow, through the tears and the yelling, you found a way to talk. really talk.

paige admitted she’d been scared of losing you, of letting you down. you told her how lonely you’d been, how hard it was to feel like you were coming second to everything else. by the time the sun started to rise, you’d fallen asleep on her dorm room floor, her arms wrapped tightly around you, like she was scared you’d disappear if she let go

things weren’t perfect after that but they were better. you both learned how to make time for each other, even when it felt like there wasn’t any to spare

paige started bringing you to practices sometimes, letting you sit courtside while she worked through drills. you found your own rhythm at school, joining clubs and making friends who reminded you that you were more than just "paige bueckers’ girlfriend."

by the end of sophomore year, you’d both grown in ways you didn’t expect. paige was still the same girl who gave you half her sandwich back in eighth grade, and you were still her good luck charm

but now, you were partners, too—figuring out how to build a life together, one game, one moment at a time

[dirtyvulture]

Its 4 am cant sleep so hear me out, shy neighbor Natasha x amab OF creator reader, thoughts?

Oh 👀

18+ only, read at your own risk

AN: Got very carried away with this, but not sorry at all. Merry Christmas!

Natasha would be one of your highest-paying subscribers and she has notifications to your profile turned on so within minutes of you dropping a new video or photo she is online to check it out.

She is very loyal and only gets off to your content. When she uses a dildo on herself, she pictures it's your dick instead, thinking about how hard you would be throbbing inside her when you're about to cum.

One day, you open your account for personal 1-on-1 video calls for a steep price. Natasha is your first buyer. She's so nervous she's practically shaking when she logs onto the call with you, and doesn't turn the camera on her face but her body instead.

You ask her if she has any requests and she just asks if you can jerk off while looking at her boobs and you are more than happy to comply.

Natasha practically drools as she watches you jerk off your length slicked up with lube and pre-cum, grunting and moaning. The vein on your cock throbs the closer you get to release.

Her own hand dips into her panties, frantically rubbing her clit so she can cum with you.

"Almost...there..." you grunt, moving your hand faster. "I wish I was there so I could cum all over your pretty tits."

Natasha hums at the thought. "You're so close," she pants, noting the dual meaning of her words as she is in fact your neighbor three houses down.

You point your cock towards you so you can shoot your load all over your abs. Natasha grumbles at the waste of your seed, but there isn't much she can do now. Her own release is a little disappointing as she removes her hand from her panties and wipes it on a towel.

You end the call abruptly, but Natasha knows not to take it personally. You probably have a long line of people who paid to have you fulfill their fantasies. Natasha is just another customer to you.

She closes her laptop and takes a shower, suddenly reviled by her pathetic behavior. She knows she needs to stop spending her money on porn and focus on real life, but she can't.

There's a knock on her door just as she steps out of the bathroom. Natasha has no friends, let alone expecting any guests, so she's hesitant to answer.

But when she sees you standing on her porch, holding a single rose in your hand, she almost drops to the floor.

"I recognized your voice on the video call," you explain, handing her the rose and she takes it with trembling fingers. "But if you ever want a more...personal...call with me, I'd be happy to make it happen."

Natasha is too stunned and embarrassed for words as she watches you walk back towards your house. Finally, she finds her focus and dashes after you.

"Are you free tonight?" she asks breathlessly. She had never asked another person out in her life, and doesn't quite know where she has the courage to do so now. "Maybe we can get dinner and then you can come over--"

"I would love that," you say before she can finish her sentence. "I'll come pick you up at six?"

"Yes. Yes, that works."

You wink and retreat to your house while Natasha stands on the sidewalk, still holding the rose and unable to believe her luck.

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

AN: Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[revelboo]

Merry Christmas 🎁🎄

I just wanted to tell you every time Megatron takes psychic dmg from his subordinates being deviants I'm cackling. Also I love that moment where Megatron sees the construckicons with a little human and asks if everyone is fragging them meanwhile the construckicons now have more questions than answers.

He’s too fun to torment

Everything Is Alright Pt 94

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Shifting against you, wings trembling slightly as they stretch out behind him where he’s sprawled on his side, he reaches to pull you closer and his knuckles bump against something. Growling as it comes back that he’d let Soundwave stay, your body trapped between theirs. Neither of them bothering to mass shift back and waste the energy. Wanting to hold you while you sleep. And he thinks again about just taking you. Disappearing with you and staying mass displaced. Find a place, make a home with you. Wanting to believe he could be happy with that life. With you. That he could let go of his ambition and his spark hurts, because he knows it’s a lie. You’re the most important thing he has, the only thing that actually matters. So why is he still hungry for more? Why can’t he be satisfied?

• Warm servos touch your jaw and you sleepily stir. Starscream against your front, Soundwave at your back. Feeling safe between them, happy. And trying your hardest to not remember Megatron walking in on you and Starscream fucking like animals on the floor. Because that mortification, that memory, you’re trying to bury as deep as possible. The only consolation is that you’re pretty sure the warlord had been as horrified as you were. “Morning,” you mumble as Starscream brushes his mouth against your temple. Hearing him rumble softly and knowing Soundwave is watching.

• Knuckles sliding up your spine, Soundwave reluctantly sits up and watches you stretch, back arching. Venting in annoyance when Starscream drags you back against him and his mouth finds yours. Listening to your little noise of surprise before you relax into the Seeker. Not even surprised when you’re nudged onto your back and mounted. Knows it’s a show of dominance, a claim made. Especially as Starscream’s optics narrow at him before his attention is back on you. Listening to the breathy sounds of your pleasure, he stands and stalks off. Uncomfortable with the pointed reminder that you’re bonded to Starscream, not him. Spark aching and unable to shut out the sounds. Servos flexing into fists until the Seeker finishes with you. Because he knows he could care for you better. That you’d be happier with him and his cassettes, no schemes. No plots.

• Denta grazing your jaw as he shifts over you, it’s the sly look on his face that makes you suspect he’s not going to let you shower before taking you to Megatron. That this is some petty possessiveness just to spite the warlord as embarrassing as it is to be brought to him with Starscream’s release trailing down your thighs. Gripping your arms, he pulls you up with him and you squirm, feeling the wetness there. Skin prickling feeling both of them watching you as you head across the top of the berth to dig through your pile of clothing. “Shower first?” You ask, voice hopeful. Grabbing a bottle of soap and shampoo. Bracing for the no.

• “Acceptable,” Soundwave says, cutting off Starscream before he can deny you. And you smile up at him, grabbing your things and hurrying to him. Cupping his hands against you, he mass displaces and lifts you up with him. Hears your little unhappy noise and feels you shudder against his servos. Aware of Starscream mass shifting with an annoyed grumble, he cups his hands around you to hide your nakedness as he leaves Starscream’s quarters and carries you to the washracks. Letting you set your coverings aside, he turns on the water and holds you under the spray. Can feel your embarrassment tingling through him as you wash yourself, head tipping as you use your cleansers and try to scrub their scents from your skin. Something about that bothering him.

• Venting as he finds his own stall, Starscream can’t deny that it bothers him that you’re wasting his scent away. Wanted Megatron to know you’re his. Turning, he watches Soundwave help you dry off and offering you your coverings. Watching you pull them on, he reaches out a hand to you. “Come along,” he says, ignoring the look Soundwave levels at him as if to ask if he can do this without antagonizing Megatron.

• Settling yourself in Starscream’s hand, you brace for dealing with Megatron as you’re carried down the big hall to the bridge. Heart beginning to race as dread twists through you. Especially when he arrives at the door and it opens to reveal Megatron sprawled on his throne. And the purple mech with the single optic standing by him. Seeing the moment he spots you and his antenna immediately flatten back in offense as he snarls.

Previous

Give me a reason (I don't believe a word)

To end this discussion (of anything I've heard)

To break with tradition (they tell me that it's not so hard)

To fold and divide (it's not so hard)

So let's not get carried (away with everything)

Away with the process (from here to in-between)

of elimination (the long goodbye)

I don't want to waste your time.

Tell me that you're alright,

Yeah everything is alright.

Oh please tell me that you're alright,

Yeah everything is alright.

[helioooss]

isolation caved in, i adore you; the sound of your skin

synopsis: you and minjeong get caught up in a dating scandal — all along, she realises she has been in love with you.

warnings: flufffff

w/c: 3k+

a/n: another short story…it’s 2:30am and i couldn’t really sleep.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the faint buzzing of your phone on the nightstand jolted you awake, the sound cutting through the quiet of your small apartment; the dim light from the screen cast shadows across the room as you reached for it, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

minjeong’s name lit up on display, accompanied by a string of missed calls that made your stomach twist with unease.

she never called like this, not unless something was wrong.

“hello?” your voice came out rough, still thick with sleep, as you pressed the phone to your ear.

there was silence for a moment, save for the faint sound of her breathing on the other end. you sat up straighter, the worry bubbling up in your chest.

“mindungie?” you tried again, softer this time. “what’s going on? are you okay?”

her reply was a shaky inhale, followed by a soft sniffle that made your heart drop. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “i didn’t want to bother you.”

“you’re crying,” you said, your voice laced with concern. “don’t apologise, i’m here.”

another pause, heavy and suffocating. then, in a voice so small it was almost inaudible, she said: “i’m in another dating scandal.”

your chest tightened at her words. she had faced scandals before — being in the public eye in one of the most popular girl groups in the world meant she was no stranger to baseless rumours and invasive speculation but hearing her cry over it was completely new.

“what’s sm doing about it this time?” you asked, already trying to piece together a plan in your head. “aren’t they handling it?”

“they want me to take a hiatus,” she said bitterly, her voice trembling. “alongside my recent surgery; they think it’s the best way to let things settle, but it’s not just about me this time. it’s affecting other people…people who don’t deserve this.”

your heart ached at the frustration in her voice and the way she sounded so defeated. you hated this; hated how the world wouldn’t leave her alone, wouldn’t let her live without dissecting every moment of her life.

“it’ll settle down,” you reassured gently, even though you weren’t sure if you believed it yourself. “it always does. people will move on to the next thing soon enough.”

“not this time,” she mumbled, her voice quieter now, tinged with something close to despair. “this one’s different.”

you frowned, the weight of her words sinking in. “what do you mean? who are they saying you’re with?”

there was a long pause, the kind that made your chest tighten with dread. you could hear her breathing, uneven and shallow, as if she was trying to muster the courage to answer.

finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “you.”

the word hung in the air and for a moment, you weren’t sure you’d heard her correctly.

“me?” you repeated, making sure you heard correctly.

“yeah,” she said, letting out a bitter, shaky laugh. “they’ve got all these photos…ones from when we were kids and some from the last time i visited busan. they’re saying we’ve been secretly dating for years.”

your mind raced as her words sank in. you thought of all the moments the two of you had shared, ones that were so innocent but now felt heavy under the weight of her confession.

the time she’d visited you at the restaurant, laughing as she stole bites of your food; the long walks along haeundae beach, where she’d tease you about how much slower you’d gotten since you were kids.

moments that had always felt like yours alone — twisted into something you hadn’t prepared for.

“that’s ridiculous,” you replied firmly, though your voice wavered just slightly. “they’re just making things up like they always do. anyone who knows us would know it’s not true.”

“it’s not about what’s true,” she added, her voice breaking again. “it’s about what they can make people believe. and they’ve done a good job. it looks…convincing.”

your stomach twisted at her words, the dread settling deep in your chest. “have you looked at it?”

“yeah,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “and it’s bad. really bad.”

you clenched your jaw, anger and protectiveness bubbling up inside you. “minjeong, you know none of this matters, right? the people who care about you, the people who know us, you — they won’t believe it.”

“but it’s not just about me,” her voice trembled. “it’s about you, too. they’re saying things — terrible things about you, digging into your life. our lives in busan. i didn’t want this for you.”

you’d always known the risks of being close to her, of staying a constant in her life even after she became a star but you never imagined being dragged into her world like this; exposed in a way that felt so violating.

“i don’t care what they say about me,” you insisted, though the knot in your stomach told a different story. “what matters is you. we’ll get through this. we always do.”

she let out a shaky breath, her voice softer now. “please don’t look it up,” she begged. “it’ll only hurt you, and i don’t want that. promise me, please.”

the curiosity was already gnawing at you, but the desperation in her voice was enough to make you falter.

“i’ll try,” you answered eventually, though you weren’t sure if you could keep that promise. “but you’re not alone in this, okay? you don’t have to carry it all by yourself. and you’ve done nothing wrong.”

she didn’t respond right away, but you could hear her breathing slow slightly, as if your words had brought her even the smallest bit of comfort.

“can i come over?” she asked after a moment, her voice small and tentative. “i’m back in busan for a week or two.”

“of course,” you said without hesitation. “you can stay as long as you need.”

“thank you,” she whispered and for the first time since the call started, her voice carried a faint trace of relief. “i’ll be there in a minute, see you, y/n.”

“okay,” you hummed with a smile. “be safe.”

when the call ended, you set your phone down and leaned back against the headboard, staring at the faint glow of the streetlights outside your window. your mind was a storm of thoughts — worry for her, anger at the situation…and a quiet, nagging fear about what this would mean for the fragile boundary you’d built between friendship and the feelings you harboured for years.

as much as you hated to admit it; a small selfish part of you felt the weight of her words differently. they thought she was in love with you. and no matter how false the rumour was, it struck a chord in you that you tried to bury a long time ago.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the small kitchen was quiet except for the soft clink of the spoon against the teacup as you stirred the honey into the warm chamomile tea. the warm light above the stove cast a faint glow on the countertop, highlighting the steam rising from the mug.

on the side, you’d set out a small plate of chocolates — the mint chocolate ones she always liked. it wasn’t much, but it was all you could think of in the middle of the night, your hands moving on autopilot.

your mind drifted, as it often did when it came to her. minjeong. winter. her name alone carried a weight in your chest that you’d grown used to over the years but never quite knew how to handle.

you have loved her for as long as you could remember, though you’d never dared to say it out loud — not to her, not even to yourself most days.

it was easier to keep it buried, to cherish the friendship you had without risking everything by wanting more. but now, it felt like the fragile balance you’d built was falling apart.

this scandal, these rumours — they were forcing everything to the surface and it terrified you.

what if she believed it? what if she looked at you and saw the truth you’d been hiding all this time? worse, what if it ruined everything?

the thought of losing her was unbearable.

resting your hands on the counter to steady yourself, you heaved out a sigh. the fear clawed at you; relentless and unyielding. you didn’t want her to think there was any truth to the rumours or make her feel uncomfortable around you. all you wanted was to protect her.

your gaze drifted to your phone on the counter, the curiosity too strong to ignore. she’d begged you not to look, but your fingers moved before you could stop them, typing your name and hers into the search bar.

almost instantly, the top result caught your eye — a youtube link with over a million views. the title read: aespa winter and y/n: secret love through the years.

your stomach dropped as you hesitated, then tapped on the link. the video began playing, a soft piano melody accompanying a slideshow of photos.

the first few were ones you recognised: pictures from your childhood, back when you and minjeong were just kids running around the streets of busan; they were harmless, ones you’ve shared to the public.

then came the more recent ones and your breath hitched. you didn’t even know where the fans had found these photos, but they all told the same story.

the two of you, close and comfortable, looking at each other like no one else existed. in every frame, your gaze lingered on her like she held the universe in her hands.

and then came the details — the matching necklaces, the ones you’d ordered from japan for her 21st birthday, customised with her initials and a small star charm. the video even included clips of minjeong talking about you in interviews, her voice warm and full of affection as she called you her rock, her safe place.

it was overwhelming and your chest tightened with a mix of emotions — fear, longing, guilt. you hadn’t realised how obvious your feelings were, how much they’d been captured in fleeting moments you thought were private.

you closed the video quickly, the knot in your throat threatening to choke you. you couldn’t let her see the truth, not like this.

a sudden, soft knock at the door startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. your heart jumped as you turned towards the sound. wiping your hands on your toy story pyjamas, you walked to the door and opened it slowly.

there she was.

minjeong stood in the hallway, her small frame wrapped in an oversized hoodie, the sleeves hanging past her hands. a black hat and mask covered most of her face, but her red and swollen eyes were unmistakable.

she looked utterly exhausted and before you could say a word, she stepped inside and crashed into you, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she buried her face in your shoulder.

her body trembled as she started crying again, her muffled sobs breaking whatever composure you’d managed to hold onto.

“i’m so sorry,” she choked out between breaths, her voice cracking. “i’m so, so sorry.”

you froze for a moment, overwhelmed by her sudden closeness, but then your arms moved on instinct, holding her tightly.

“hey,” you whispered, your voice soft and steady, though your heart was racing. “it’s okay. you don’t have to apologise.”

“it’s not okay,” she sobbed, her words coming out in gasps. “you don’t deserve this and i don’t know how to fix it.”

you closed your eyes, resting your chin gently on the top of her head. “we’ll figure it out,” you reassured, your voice firm despite the storm inside you. “you’re not alone in this. i’m here.”

she clung to you like a lifeline, her sobs slowly quieting as you held her and closed the door behind you. the scent of her floral shampoo filled your senses, grounding you in the moment. you didn’t know how long you stood there but you didn’t care. all that mattered was her and the promise you’d made to be there, no matter what.

when she finally pulled back, her face was flushed, her eyes red and puffy. she wiped at them with her sleeve, looking small and vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache.

“thank you,” she murmured, her voice hoarse. “for everything.”

you shook your head, offering her a small, reassuring smile. “you don’t have to thank me, mindungie. just…come sit on the couch. i made us some tea.”

her lips twitched into the faintest of smiles; trailing behind you. her presence filled the space with a warmth that was both comforting and heart-wrenching.

as you handed her the cup of tea and watched her take a small sip, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could keep the truth hidden — how much further you could pretend you weren’t in love with her when every moment like this made it harder to breathe.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the cup, her favourite one; chipped and its colours fading, now sat on the coffee table as she curled up at the far end of your small couch; knees drawn to her chest, her oversized hoodie drowning her small frame. the moonlight streamed through the half-drawn curtains, bathing the room in a soft silver glow.

you just sat beside her, unsure how to navigate the weight of her silence.

finally, she broke it. “i don’t care what happens to me,” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to make your chest ache. “but you…i’m worried about you.”

you blinked, taken aback. “me?” you said, your voice quiet. “you don’t have to worry about me.”

“how can i not?” she replied, her eyes locking with yours, wide and filled with worry. “they’re going to dig into your life, say horrible things about you. i can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt because of me.”

you sighed, leaning back against the couch. her concern was touching, but unnecessary. “minjeong, i’ve lived my whole life being just another face in the crowd. no one’s ever cared enough about me to say anything, let alone horrible things. i can handle it.”

“you don’t know what it’s like,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “you don’t know how cruel people can be when they think they know your story.”

“maybe i don’t, but i know this much: i can handle petty comments from strangers. what i can’t handle is seeing you like this. so don’t waste your energy worrying about me, okay?”

her lips trembled and for a moment, you thought she was going to cry again. instead, she looked away, her blonde hair falling messily into her face.

“you’re too kind, you know that?” she began softly. “sometimes i think you’re too good for me.”

you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her words, but the vulnerability in her voice stopped you. before you could respond, she turned back to you, her gaze hesitant. “can you…can you hold me?” she asked shyly, her voice almost timid. “just for a while?”

your breath got caught in your throat, but you nodded, shifting closer to her on the couch. she leaned into you, her head resting against your shoulder as her body relaxed against yours. you wrapped your arms around her gently, feeling the warmth of her against you and the steady rise and fall of her chest.

the moonlight caught her features, highlighting the soft curve of her jaw, the delicate slope of her nose, the way her messy blonde hair framed her face.

even like this — tired, vulnerable, with tear-streaked cheeks and swollen eyes, she was breathtaking.

your fingers found their way to her hair, running through the strands gently and you felt her sigh against you, a soft, contented sound that made your heart ache.

“sometimes,” she murmured, her voice muffled against your hoodie, “i wish i wasn’t famous. i wish i’d chosen a normal life, stayed here in busan. with you.”

your heart squeezed at her words, but you forced yourself to keep your tone steady. “you were meant to be a star, minjeong,” you said softly. “you’ve always been destined for it. even when we were kids, you had this…this light about you. people were always going to notice.”

“but i didn’t want them to notice this,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness. “i didn’t want them to hurt you.”

you didn’t know what to say to that, so you stayed quiet, your fingers continuing their soothing rhythm through her hair. her words, though, lingered in your mind, intertwining with thoughts you’d been trying to suppress all night.

what would it be like, you wondered, if she truly felt the same way about you? if the rumours weren’t just rumours but a glimpse into something real?

you’d spent so long convincing yourself that she was out of reach — that her world was too far removed from yours for anything more than friendship.

what could you even possibly offer her? your simple life, a tiny apartment and a small restaurant?

there was nothing about you that could ever impress her, nothing that could compare to the glitz and glamour of her world.

and yet, here she was, leaning against you, seeking comfort in your arms. it felt too good to be true and you hated the way your heart clung to the moment, desperate to believe it meant something more.

“what are you thinking about?” her voice broke through your thoughts, soft but curious.

you froze for a moment, your hand stilling in her hair. “nothing.”

she pulled back just enough to look up at you, her face still close enough that you could see the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes. “don’t lie to me,” she muttered, her tone gentle but insistent. “you’ve got that look on your face, like you’re a million miles away.”

you hesitated, unsure how much to tell her. your mind raced for an excuse, something lighthearted to distract her, but the weight of her gaze made it impossible to lie.

“i was just…thinking about us,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “about how different our lives are. and how…how lucky i am to still have you in mine even though you’re a big star now.”

her expression softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in her eyes; something you couldn’t quite place. before you could dwell on it, she leaned back into you, resting her head against your chest this time.

“you’re not lucky,” she smiled. “i am.”

her words settled over you like a blanket, warm and comforting, yet heavy with meaning. you didn’t know what to say, so you stayed silent, holding her with your eyes closed as the moonlight bathed the room in its quiet glow.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the soft chirping of birds filtered through the open window, mingling alongside the morning sun spilling into the room. the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake was warmth — minjeong’s warmth, her body pressed close to yours, her head nestled against your shoulder, an arm draped across your waist and her soft breaths tickled your neck.

you froze, your heart immediately racing as the situation fully sank in. it had been years since you’d been this close to her — the space you’d carefully maintained between you was gone and the intimacy of the moment made your chest tighten with equal parts longing and fear.

as your eyes fluttered open, her blonde hair was the first thing to greet you, falling into her face in strands that glowed golden in the morning light. her cheeks were slightly flushed, lips parted ever so slightly as she remained lost in sleep. she looked peaceful, so beautiful.

for a second, you let yourself admire her.

then reality hit and panic crept in. this was too close, too much. you couldn’t risk her realising your true feelings as you carefully shifted, trying not to wake her, but your movements caused her to stir.

her eyes opened slowly, blinking as they adjusted to the light. when they focused on you, a soft smile tugged at her lips.

“good morning,” she mumbled, her voice still laced with sleep.

“morning,” you replied, your voice awkward and stiff as you immediately shifted away, creating a small but noticeable gap between you. “sorry. i didn’t mean to, uh, get so close.”

her smile faltered slightly, her brows knitting together in a small frown. “why are you apologising?” she asked, her tone soft but tinged with confusion.

“i just…i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you sat up, rubbing the back of your neck; heart still racing. “i’ll make us some breakfast.”

before she could respond, you were already on your feet, making your way to the kitchen. she sat up slowly, watching you with a look you couldn’t decipher.

“let me help,” she offered, already starting to move.

“no, no,” you said, turning back to wave her off. “just sit on the couch, okay? i’ve got this.”

she hesitated but eventually relented, settling back onto the couch with a small sigh. pulling out her phone, she began to tap at the screen, though her gaze kept drifting back to you as you moved around the kitchen.

she wasn’t texting anyone, though — not really. instead, she found herself scrolling through the same photos and videos she’d seen the night before, the so-called “evidence” of your supposed relationship. each image showed the two of you at different points in your lives, some familiar, some she didn’t even know existed. but it wasn’t the photos themselves that caught her attention — it was you.

the way you looked at her in every single one of them. it was so obvious now, in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to notice before.

your gaze was always soft, filled with something she couldn’t quite name but felt deeply in her chest. she stared at one photo in particular, a candid shot of you smiling at her during one of her almost weekly visits to busan. the look in your eyes made her heart flutter.

it can’t be, she thought, her heart beating faster as she lowered her phone — but the thought lingered, refusing to leave. she glanced at you, watching as you moved around the kitchen with practised ease, cracking eggs into a bowl and chopping green onions with quick motions.

the smell of something sizzling in a pan soon filled the room and she couldn’t help but think about how natural this felt; waking up to you, watching you prepare breakfast as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

you were so focused, so determined to make everything perfect for her and the thought made her chest tighten.

her phone buzzed in her hand, a message from jimin lighting up the screen.

‘are you sure you and y/n aren’t dating?’

she ignored it, setting the device aside as her attention drifted back to you. her thoughts were a mess, swirling with confusion and a strange kind of hope she wasn’t sure how to name.

you turned then, catching her gaze, and the world seemed to still. her heart skipped a beat as you smiled, holding up a plate.

“breakfast’s nearly ready,” you smiled, the warmth of your voice spreading all the way to her chest. “hope you’re hungry.”

she nodded, her throat feeling tight as she tried to push down the growing emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

“i am,” she managed to say, her voice softer than she intended. “also sleepy.”

and as she watched you turn back to the stove, the realisation hit her all at once, unrelenting and undeniable.

i’m in love with her.

the two of you sat at the small dining table, plates of warm, steaming food in front of you. you made made simple dishes — scrambled eggs, leftover rice and grilled mackerel with a side of kimchi.

it wasn’t extravagant, but she ate it like it was a gourmet meal, a soft hum of satisfaction escaping her as she took her first bite.

“i missed this,” she said, her voice muffled slightly as she chewed. “your cooking, i mean. it’s so much better than anything i get in seoul.”

“don’t let your manager hear you say that,” you teased, grinning as you poured her a glass of water. “they’ll think you’re living off convenience store meals.”

“i practically am,” she admitted with a laugh, her nose scrunching in that way it always did when she found something genuinely funny. “you have no idea how much i’ve missed this.”

the conversation drifted into easy territory, the kind of nostalgic reminiscing that always seemed to happen when you were together. you found yourself laughing as she recounted a time in middle school when she’d gotten detention for climbing onto the school roof to retrieve a kite you’d accidentally let go of.

you shook your head. “you were always such a shy troublemaker, how you ended up as an idol, i’ll never know.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” she shot back, mock-offended. “i’m responsible now. mostly.”

“sure you are,” you said, smirking. “remember your first boyfriend? what was his name again? jonghoon? jinhoon?”

“it was junghoon,” she corrected, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “and we were, like, twelve. it doesn’t even count.”

“oh, it counts,” you said, leaning back in your chair with a grin. “you were so serious about him. always writing him those sappy little notes.”

“don’t remind me,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands. “i can’t believe i ever thought that was romantic.”

“hey, at least you had a boyfriend,” you said, unable to resist teasing her. “i’ve got nothing to compare to.”

she dropped her hands, her expression shifting into something more curious. “why is that, anyway? is there no one special in your life? i’ve been meaning to ask.”

the question caught you off guard, your smile faltering for just a moment before you quickly recovered.

“if there was, you’d be the first to know,” you said, nudging her foot under the table. “don’t be stupid.”

her expression softened at your words, a small smile playing on her lips, but you weren’t sure why.

trying to lighten the mood, you added with a grin, “though, if you give me jimin’s number, maybe i’ll reconsider.”

her reaction was immediate. her brows furrowed, and her smile disappeared as she stabbed at her rice with her chopsticks.

“you’re kidding, right?” she said, her tone sharper than you expected.

you blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift. “obviously,” you chuckled, but she frowned deeper. “come on, winter. it was a joke.”

“well, it’s not funny,” she muttered, her gaze fixed on her plate.

“why are you getting so worked up?” you asked, tilting your head to study her. “what’s it to you if i joke about jimin?”

she didn’t answer right away, her jaw tightening as she shoved a piece of mackerel into her mouth.

when she finally spoke, her tone was clipped. “it’s just…weird, okay? she’s not even your type.”

“oh, and you know my type now?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “you haven’t even see me with any girl.”

she looked up at you then, her eyes narrowing slightly. “yeah, i do.”

the tension between you was palpable, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. you weren’t sure what to make of her reaction — it was so unlike her to get upset over something so small. but then, as you watched her, the realisation began to dawn on you.

she’s jealous, you thought, the idea almost too absurd to entertain.

you decided to test the waters, leaning forward with a small, teasing smile. “minjeong,” you said, your voice light. “are you jealous?”

her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked it, looking away with a scoff. “don’t be ridiculous.”

“you’re jealous,” you said, your grin widening. “oh my god, you’re actually jealous.”

“i’m not!” she insisted, her cheeks flushing as she crossed her arms defensively. “it’s just—ugh, forget it.”

her reaction only made you laugh, the tension between you dissolving as quickly as it had appeared. she glared at you, but there was no real heat behind it, and eventually, she let out a small, begrudging laugh of her own.

“you’re impossible,” she said, shaking her head as she picked up her chopsticks again.

“and you’re adorable when you’re mad,” you said without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

she froze for a moment, her cheeks reddening further and you felt your own face heat up as you realised what you’d said.

but instead of snapping at you, she simply looked at you, her expression unreadable, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged again, heavy with something unspoken.

“just eat your breakfast,” she said finally, her voice softer now and you nodded, your heart still racing as you focused on your plate, wondering what, exactly, had just happened.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the next few days passed in a quiet rhythm that felt almost too perfect to last. mornings were slow and easy, filled with soft conversations over coffee and the occasional sound of minjeong humming to herself as she wandered around your small apartment.

afternoons were spent watching movies, cooking together, or simply lying on the couch; tangled up in blankets and each other.

it felt normal in a way that was disarming, like the two of you had slipped into a version of life where nothing else existed — no dating scandals and pressure, just the comfort of being together.

it scared you how easily you’d fallen into this routine, how much it felt like home. every small touch, laugh, every shared glance seemed to chip away at the walls you’d spent years building around your heart.

and with each passing day, it became harder to ignore the truth you’d buried for so long — you were still in love with her and being this close to her now was both a blessing and a curse.

for her part, she seemed quieter than usual, her gaze lingering on you a little too often, her smiles softer, more hesitant. she hadn’t brought up the scandal again, but you could feel the weight of it hanging over her, a tension that never quite left her shoulders.

one night, you decided to close things out with one of her favourite movies, tenet. she was practically giddy as she set it up, her excitement a stark contrast to the more subdued moments of the past few days.

“you’re going to love this,” she geeked out, her eyes lighting up as she settled onto the couch beside you. “it’s so clever. you have to pay attention, though.”

“you realise you say that about every confusing movie,” you teased, earning a playful shove from her.

two and a half hours later, the credits rolled, and you found yourself lying on your side, facing her. your arm was wrapped loosely around her waist, her head resting against your shoulder. the movie had been a blur of time loops and action sequences, none of which had made any sense to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

your attention had been more on her than anything else — the way her lips twitched into a small smile during her favourite scenes, the way she unconsciously leaned closer to you as the story unfolded.

“so,” she began, her voice soft and teasing, “what did you think?”

you groaned dramatically, tightening your arm around her waist. “i think i have no idea what just happened.”

her jaw dropped in mock offense and she pushed at your chest. “you’re kidding! how could you not get it? it’s brilliant!”

“oh, i got it,” you grinned. “something about going backwards in time, saving the world and…i don’t know, doing a little dance?”

“you’re impossible,” she muttered, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.

“you’re adorable when you’re frustrated,” you replied without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them as you laughed.

her smile faltered, her cheeks flushing slightly as she stared at you, her expression suddenly turning serious.

the laughter that came so easily from you, the warmth of your skin pressed against hers — it all felt too much and not enough at the same time.

she didn’t know when it started. maybe it had been years ago, back when the two of you were just kids, chasing the tide and dreaming of futures that felt so far away. or maybe it was more recent, in the stolen moments when she would visit you between schedules, sitting in your tiny apartment and making her favourite dishes and feeling more at home than she ever did in her dorm.

but tonight, as the credits rolled and your soft laughter filled the quiet, it clicked.

it was you. it had always been you.

the realisation settled over her like a wave, overwhelming and undeniable. you were the missing piece, the thing she had been searching for without even realising it.

the void she’d felt for so long, the ache that no amount of fame or success could fill — it was simply you.

“y/n,” she said softly, her voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “what are we doing?”

your heart skipped a beat, her question pulling you sharply out of the playful banter. “what do you mean?”

“this,” she said, gesturing between the two of you. “us. spending all this time together, acting like…” she trailed off, her gaze dropping to where your arm was still wrapped around her. “acting like we’re more than just friends.”

you swallowed hard, your chest tightening as her words settled over you. “i don���t know,” you admitted. “but i know that i don’t want it to end.”

her eyes flicked back up to yours, wide and searching. “but what about everything else? what happens when i go back to seoul? what happens if people find out about this and they…they ruin your life?”

“minjeong,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “my life isn’t perfect, but it’s mine. and if being with you means dealing with a little chaos, then so be it. i’ve handled worse.”

“you don’t understand,” she said, her voice faltering. “it’s not just a little chaos. it’s people prying into your life, twisting your every word, making you out to be something you’re not. you have a normal life, y/n. i don’t want to be the reason you lose that.”

you reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “you’re not going to ruin anything and my life stopped being normal the second you walked into it. and there’s nothing in this world i’d trade you for.”

her breath hitched at your words, her gaze searching yours as if trying to find some hint of doubt. “but what if it’s not enough? what if i’m not enough?”

“you’re everything,” you said without hesitation, your words filled with a sincerity that left no room for doubt. “you always have been.”

her lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. instead, she watched you with so much adoration in her eyes and closed the small distance between you, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was as hesitant as it was certain.

it was soft and gentle, like the answer to a question neither of you had dared to ask.

you responded instinctively, your hand moving to the back of her neck as you deepened the kiss, pouring years of unspoken feelings into the moment. her fingers tangled in your hair and her body melted against yours as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

when you finally pulled back, your foreheads pressed together, you could feel her breath against your lips, warm and shaky.

“i think…” she started, her voice trembling, “i think i’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

your heart swelled at her words, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “you’re not the only one,” you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. “i’ve hid how i felt for too long.”

“but we’re here now, aren’t we?”

a soft, watery laugh escaped her as she leaned in again, her lips finding yours in another kiss — this one deeper, more certain, like the beginning of something neither of you had dared to hope for.

and in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, it felt like the rest of the world could wait.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end.

[rmview]

he still loves his ex, ENHYPEN.

featuring — enhypen members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — a reaction of what happens when the enhypen boys realize and confess that they’re still not over their ex!

contents — angst, mentions of past relationships, break ups.

hee ❋ seung

heeseung is known for his emotional depth, but even that doesn’t prepare him for the storm he’s facing now. at first, he’s convinced he’s ready to move on, putting his all into your relationship. he laughs at your jokes, plans sweet dates, and assures himself that the past is behind him. but over time, the cracks begin to show. a fleeting memory, an old photograph, or a song tied to his ex brings a rush of emotions he thought he’d buried. it feels like betrayal — to both himself and you — but he keeps silent, hoping the feelings will fade on their own.

the guilt eats at him, manifesting in sleepless nights and uncharacteristic silences. you notice the shift and confront him one evening, your voice soft yet filled with concern. heeseung tries to brush it off, but the pressure becomes too much. “i didn’t want it to be like this,” he confesses, his voice trembling as he struggles to meet your gaze. “but i think… i think i still have feelings for her.”

your stunned expression breaks something in him, and tears well up in his eyes. “it’s not fair to you. you don’t deserve this,” he says, his voice cracking with emotion. “i wanted to be enough for you, but i’m not. i thought i could move on from karina, but i’ve just been lying to both of us.” heeseung’s vulnerability is raw, but his words carry a finality that leaves no room for hope.

as you step away from him, his hand twitches as if to reach for you, but he doesn’t. he knows he has no right to ask you to stay, no matter how much he wants to. watching you walk out of his life feels like a punishment he deserves. heeseung is left in the silence of his own making, his heart heavy with regret and the realization that he’s lost something irreplaceable.

even as time passes, heeseung struggles to forgive himself. memories of you linger, a painful reminder of what he ruined. he knows he has a long way to go before he can heal, but the thought of you moving on without him is a wound that never quite fades.

jay ❋

jay prides himself on being in control, but this situation shakes him to his core. when he first starts dating you, he’s confident that he’s left his past behind. he showers you with affection, determined to build something real and lasting. but as time goes on, he realizes that the shadow of his ex is still there, lingering in the corners of his mind. he tries to bury it, pouring all his energy into you, but the weight of his unresolved feelings becomes too much to bear.

the breaking point comes when you ask him what’s wrong during a quiet moment. jay hesitates, the words caught in his throat, but your worried eyes compel him to speak. “i didn’t mean for this to happen,” he says, his voice low and laced with guilt. “but i think i’m still not over her.” the confession feels like a betrayal, and he knows it.

jay’s hands tremble as he continues. “you have to believe me — i never wanted to hurt you. i thought i could move on from ningning, but i was wrong.” his voice cracks, and he looks away, unable to face the pain in your expression. “you deserve someone who’s completely there for you, not someone stuck in the past. i’m so sorry.”

you step back, the distance between you both growing, and jay feels a crushing sense of loss. he wants to ask you to stay, to tell you that he can fix this, but he knows it’s a lie. instead, he lets you leave, his chest tight with regret as the door closes behind you.

in the aftermath, jay is consumed by what-ifs. he replays every moment, wondering where he went wrong, but the answers bring no solace. he’s left to face the emptiness of his own mistakes, knowing that he’s lost you for good.

jake ❋

jake has always been a hopeless romantic, someone who loves deeply and wears his heart on his sleeve. when he starts dating you, he’s certain you’re the one who will help him move on. he invests himself fully in the relationship, but the past has a way of creeping back in. memories of his ex resurface at the most inconvenient times, leaving him torn between what he had and what he’s trying to build with you.

the guilt eats away at him until he can’t hide it anymore. one evening, after another failed attempt to mask his inner turmoil, you finally confront him. jake hesitates, his normally bright demeanor replaced with a somber expression. “i wish i could tell you this isn’t happening,” he begins, his voice thick with emotion. “but i think… part of me still has feelings for her.”

the words hang heavy in the air, and jake’s heart breaks as he sees the hurt flash across your face. “it’s not that i don’t care about you,” he continues, his voice cracking. “i do — so much. but i can’t lie to you anymore. you deserve someone who can give you their whole heart, and i don’t know if i can right now.”

you stand there, silent, and jake can feel the distance growing between you. “i’m sorry,” he whispers, tears streaming down his face. “i never wanted to hurt you.” he doesn’t stop you when you turn to leave, though every fiber of his being screams for him to call you back. he knows he’s already done enough damage.

jake spends the days and weeks that follow drowning in regret. he replays your last conversation over and over, haunted by the pain in your eyes. though he knows he did the right thing by being honest, the loss of you is a wound he doesn’t know how to heal.

sung ❋ hoon

sunghoon is the kind of person who internalizes his emotions, often to a fault. when he starts dating you, he truly believes he’s moved on from his ex. but as time passes, memories of the past creep into his thoughts at the most unexpected moments. he tries to brush it off, convincing himself it’s just nostalgia, but the truth becomes harder to ignore. sunghoon grows quieter around you, his normally playful banter replaced with awkward silences.

the turning point comes when you confront him, noticing his increasing detachment. at first, he denies it, shaking his head and insisting everything is fine. but your persistence forces him to face the truth he’s been avoiding. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “i thought i was over her, but i’m not. and that’s not fair to you.”

sunghoon’s words hit like a dagger to the heart, and you can see the guilt etched across his face. he doesn’t try to justify his feelings or ask for forgiveness. instead, he admits that he’s been selfish in trying to build something new with you while still holding onto the past. “you deserve someone who’s all in,” he continues, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “and i don’t think i can be that person right now.”

you try to process his words, but the weight of the revelation is too much. sunghoon respects your silence, knowing he has no right to ask for understanding or a second chance. as you walk away, his heart shatters, realizing he’s lost someone truly special because of his inability to let go of his past.

even as he regrets his actions, sunghoon knows this is the end. he tells himself it’s for the best, but the thought of you moving on with someone else — someone who can love you the way he couldn’t — haunts him long after you’re gone.

su ❋ noo

sunoo is naturally expressive, and his emotions are often written all over his face. when he first starts dating you, he’s overjoyed, putting his heart and soul into making the relationship special. however, the shadows of his past relationship begin to surface in quiet moments — an old photo, a familiar scent, or a song that takes him back to a time he thought he’d left behind. sunoo tries to push these feelings aside, but they refuse to stay buried.

one day, you notice sunoo looking distant, his usual radiant smile replaced with a melancholic gaze. when you ask him what’s wrong, he hesitates, unsure of how to put his feelings into words. “i didn’t mean for this to happen,” he finally says, his voice breaking. “but i think i’m still holding onto feelings for my ex.”

the admission sends a chill through the room, and you can feel your heart sink. sunoo quickly follows up, apologizing profusely and insisting that he never wanted to hurt you. “you’re amazing, and i hate myself for not being able to give you everything you deserve,” he says, tears streaming down his cheeks. “but i can’t keep pretending everything’s okay.”

his words are filled with genuine regret, but they also carry a finality that’s hard to ignore. sunoo doesn’t ask for forgiveness or a second chance. instead, he lets you decide how to proceed, fully prepared for the possibility that you’ll walk away. and when you do, his heart shatters into a million pieces.

even after the breakup, sunoo struggles to move on, plagued by the knowledge that his unresolved feelings cost him something truly beautiful. he vows to work on himself, but the thought of you being hurt by his mistakes is a pain he carries long after you’re gone.

jung ❋ won

jungwon is known for his emotional maturity, but even he isn’t immune to the complexities of lingering feelings. when he starts dating you, he believes he’s ready to move on from his ex. he genuinely cares for you and puts effort into the relationship, but the unresolved emotions begin to creep in when he least expects it. jungwon tries to suppress them, but his internal conflict starts to show in subtle ways — hesitant smiles, distracted conversations, and an uncharacteristic unease in his demeanor.

when you finally confront him, jungwon doesn’t try to deny it. he takes a deep breath, his usually calm expression clouded with guilt. “i didn’t want it to be like this,” he admits, his voice steady but filled with regret. “you mean so much to me, but i think there’s a part of me that hasn’t let go of the past.”

his honesty stings, but you can see how much it pains him to say it. jungwon doesn’t make excuses or try to downplay the situation. instead, he acknowledges his fault and emphasizes that you deserve someone who’s completely present in the relationship. “i can’t keep dragging you into my mess,” he says, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of sadness and sincerity.

jungwon doesn’t ask for forgiveness or a second chance. he knows he’s not in a place to give you the love and stability you deserve, and he’s not willing to hurt you further by clinging to the relationship. as you walk away, jungwon stays behind, his heart heavy with the weight of his mistakes.

though he regrets losing you, jungwon understands that this is the consequence of his actions. he resolves to work through his emotions and become a better version of himself, even if it’s too late to mend what’s been broken.

ni ❋ ki

ni-ki is still young and learning how to navigate complex emotions, which makes this situation particularly difficult for him. when he starts dating you, he’s excited and eager to make things work, but the lingering feelings for his ex catch him off guard. ni-ki tries to convince himself that it’s just a phase, something that will pass with time. however, the more he tries to ignore it, the more it weighs on him, and his behavior begins to shift.

you notice the change almost immediately — he becomes quieter, less playful, and more reserved. when you finally press him about it, ni-ki hesitates, his usual confidence replaced with uncertainty. “i didn’t want to tell you because i didn’t want to hurt you,” he says, his voice barely audible. “but i think i still have feelings for eunchae, and i don’t know how to handle it.”

his confession feels like a punch to the gut, and ni-ki can see the hurt in your eyes. he quickly follows up, apologizing profusely and insisting that he never meant to lead you on. “you’re incredible, and this isn’t your fault,” he says, his voice cracking. “i just… i wasn’t ready, and that’s on me.”

despite his remorse, ni-ki knows there’s no easy fix for the situation. he doesn’t try to ask for a second chance or make promises he can’t keep. instead, he accepts the reality of the situation, even though it’s breaking his heart. as you walk away, he stays rooted in place, unable to do anything but watch you leave.

ni-ki spends a long time reflecting on his actions, realizing that his inability to let go of the past cost him something truly special. though he wishes things could have been different, he knows he has a lot of growing up to do before he can fully commit to anyone.

notes: i think i'm getting a little too trigger happy with writing sad stuff xD someone pls request some cute shit because i might pop a braincell and start writing dark shit

[buecketsnbueckets]

pretty on camera | P.B

summary: you, an upcoming actress, admit to your little crush on the rising in popularity basketball star, paige bueckers, in an interview. what you didn’t expect was for people to care that much about your confession but it might just work in your favor.

pairing: actress!reader x paige bueckers

contains: sweetheart!reader, reader’s sexuality is not mentioned so open to all wlw, rachel zegler is reader’s bestfriend (she’s not the fc this is open to EVERYONE! i just love that woman to death), fluff & flirting!

a/n: hi! this is my first post about paige so if you guys like this and want more of actress reader lmk :), ALSO my inbox is open for different suggestions for oneshots as well <3 MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE & HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!

“Okay, everything’s all set up. We’re ready when you are.”

Your manager, Bella, instructs as you situate yourself in the chair that was given to you. Bright lights shone on your neatly pampered face, a boom mic right above the big camera lens that was aimed to your upper half. You nod with a kind smile, clearing your throat and trying not to ruin the position your hair was in that your wonderful hair stylist had done. Once you get the okay that the camera was rolling, you relax a bit.

You introduce yourself to the camera, motioning to the Teen Vogue box right next to you.

“I’m here with Teen Vogue answering your guys’ nosy questions that you sent in about my life and my roles.”

You beam as you reach into the red box, humming a tune to yourself before pulling out the first question on the strip of paper.

“First question; what has been your favorite role since you started your journey in acting?” You read off the ink on the paper, thinking to yourself with a small smile. “I think my favorite so far has been playing Brittany in Bottoms last year. Camp-y, stupid, fun movies are so entertaining to me and I was so excited when I got the call from Emma telling me I got it. Everyone was so incredibly nice and welcoming.”

You reach for another question, unfolding the piece of paper to reveal the next question for you. Your eyes widen at the first question, looking up at the camera with a chuckle.

“Okay so the next question is who is your current or past celebrity crush. Hm.”

You think to yourself for a moment before glancing over at Bella with raised eyebrows. The crew seems to chuckle at your stuck position already. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to say who you were first thinking of. Bella mouthed her name to you and you nod, heat already flooding your cheeks. Bella, seeming reluctant, nodded as permission to say the blonde’s name.

You cover your mouth with a hand and shake your head, letting out a long sigh.

“I don’t know if she’s considered a celebrity but,” you pause to purse your lips, puffing out a breath of hair. “Paige Bueckers. I also don’t want to hear shit in my comments or dm’s about it. I will block all of you.”

And oh, did you hear shit about it.

After that little exposing question on Teen Vogue, you were flooded with edits already of the two of you with clips from your few films you’ve been in and Paige’s games and TikToks. It had not even been a whole week since that interview was posted. Your best friend, Rachel, started spamming you nonstop with these edits with taunts and teasing.

You scoured through the comments, shocked at what people were saying.

‘pls never her get media training.’

‘wait lowk they’d be cute😝’

‘she’s gonna block us ALL guys omfg😭😭😭’

You really didn’t think you shared a fan base with a rising basketball player from a college in Connecticut but here you were. Rachel begged you to come over to hers so you could gossip about it the second your last interview was over. You, missing the comfort of normalcy, agreed immediately.

So after bidding the interviewer, crew, and Bella farewell, you got picked up by Rachel at the studio who was in sweats and a hoodie. She already had a cup of your favorite smoothie with a cheeky grin.

“Hey lover girl,” she leaned against her car, hand over her chest with an exasperated sigh as she handed you the smoothie.

“Shut up. Stop.” You already feel your face heating up at her words.

She laughed softly as she lightly kicked your ankle, brows raising at you.

“What? I’m sorry, is Mrs.Bueckers better?”

“Seriously, it's not funny.”

Rachel merely laughed louder some more at your flushed state, shaking her head. She unlocks her car as you hurriedly tug open the door. You settle into the seat as you take a long sip of the smoothie with a huff.

“I can’t believe you actually said that she was your celebrity crush,” your best friend hopped in the car as her laughter died down. “I don’t know how you didn’t see this coming.”

Truth be told, she was 100% right. You don’t know what the hell you were thinking.

“I didn’t think her fans would care about me of all people, you know?”

Rachel scoffs and shakes her head as she turns on the engine. “Whatever. You’re hot, gay and her age. I would’ve been more surprised if her fans didn’t freak out.”

You nod as you take a long sip from your smoothie, sighing out when your phone dings. You ignore it for now as you relax in Rachel’s front seat, asking her to please wake you up when you get to her place. You two talk about how Rachel’s birthday was coming up in a week and how you both wanted to go out just with your friends.

When you finally arrive at Rachel’s apartment, you finally check your cellphone to see a familiar name on your screen. Your heart drops at the sight, a wave of mortification falling over you.

paigebueckers | You have a crush on me?

paigebueckers followed yourusername

“Wait, no, Rach,” you reach for her arm as she's tossing her keys in a bowl by the front door. “She messaged me and followed me. I’ll kill myself right now.”

Rachel covers her mouth, words muffled but clear to you. “No. You’re kidding.”

“What the actual fuck? What do I say to that? This is so humiliating,” you groan as you cover your tired eyes with your free palm that wasn’t holding your phone.

In the blink of an eye, Rachel snatched your phone at lightning speed from your grasp, giggling as she ran more into her apartment. You took off after her, shouting ‘no’ as you knew exactly what she was planning on doing.

“You said you don’t know what to say so I’ll do it for you,” your best friend stated simply, shrugging her shoulders once she was able to flop onto her cozy couch.

She held her phone up in the air as her fingers hovered over the keyboard on your screen. You climb over her body to try and snatch it from her but she keeps moving out of the way.

“I’m gonna kick you,” you threaten her as you huff, pausing your attempts at fighting against her.

“Come on. Seriously. There’s no harm in texting her.”

As you settle back into the couch, you think about it for a moment. What is the harm? You reach over Rachel’s body to grab your phone back, huffing as you think about how to respond to that.

yourusername | oh god i am so sorry. this is so embarrassing.

paigebueckers | Nah there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m honored to be your ‘celebrity’ crush 😎

yourusername | i seriously never thought you would see that video but i guess our both of our supporters desperately wanted you to see it

paigebueckers | So what is it about me hmm?

yourusername | that crush just evaporated im ngl to you ‼️

paigebueckers | Alr Alr I’ll stop, pretty girl

yourusername | thank u. spare me pls ://

paigebueckers hearted your message

paigebueckers | Yk I’ve seen a few of your movies. I just didn’t realize it was you. You’re insanely talented btw

yourusername hearted paigebueckers message

yourusername | stop omg which ones? and thank you so much! <3

paigebueckers | Uhh the new Suicide Squad movie and Bodies Bodies Bodies. No problem!

yourusername | those are some of my favorites so i’m so glad you enjoyed them :)

“Okay when I said to text her back I didn’t mean only text her right now,” Rachel’s voice interrupted your furious typing.

You blush at her confrontation, clicking off your phone and setting it on the cushion next to you. “Sorry, Rach. She’s actually pretty chill. She seems…nice.”

“Next thing you’ll know she’ll be flying out to L.A to come and see you,” Rachel kids as she turns on her living room TV.

You didn’t say anything to that as you wouldn’t be completely opposed to it. You still had that lingering crush; that doesn’t just disappear overnight or within the first ten minutes you’ve been talking to her. Before you go lock in and focus on spending your downtime with your best friend, you check your phone one more time.

paigebueckers | Oh, I fs did. I was pretty focused everytime you were on screen, gorgeous

paigebueckers | I got practice rn but I’ll text you in a bit? 💗

yourusername | flirt but i believe you :)

yourusername | have fun at practice! get those gains in 💪

paigebueckers hearted your message

yourusername | happy birthday to my insanely talented best friend. you’re 23 now. i remember when we were both 13 year olds talking about becoming actresses and how cool it would be. now look at how far you’ve come, juliet on mf broadway :,) i love you, rach ♥︎

view all comments

rachelzegler | i’m gonna cry im literally sitting right next to you but i love you so much! 💜💜

↳ yourusername | i love you more 🤕💔

kit.connor | happy birthday to the icon herself!

↳ yourusername | iktr!!😩

randomuser | their friendship >>>>>

havanaroseliu | look at that angel ♡ ♡ happiest of birthdays!!!

↳ yourusername | that’s my mf bestfriend

randomuser | i always forget she was in bottoms and the cast is just in her comments LMAOSKSK

paigebueckers | Okay broadway legend! Period!! Happy birthday!

↳ yourusername | put some respect on her name!

↳ rachelzegler | oh hello paige😁 thank youuu!

randomuser | PAIGE?!!!

randomuser | wait omg they know each other???

randomuser | Did we bring them together?🙂‍↕️

TAG-LIST: @jnkbueckers @ch-3-rry

[fictionalmenxyn]

Frat!Rafe x Sorority!Reader Scenarios

1:

You were lying on your bed with Rafe. Rafe on top of you as you both made out. Your lips moving in sync as you both started to get into a heated make out session. Rafe’s forearms on either side of you on the bed as he somewhat cages you in. He starts to move his lips down and across your jaw and starts to go to your neck. When all of a sudden. Your bedroom door has three large bangs followed with a “open up it’s the fbi!”. Rage groaned as he pulls his lips away from your neck. Knowing exactly who it is he called back “I left the frat today to have some alone time! Why the fuck are you two here?!” You tried to hold your laugh back. Knowing it was Topper and Kelce. They could never go too long without Rafe. The door opened ever so slightly. Topper spoke “you two decent??” You smirked and answered “yes, Top-” Rafe quickly puts a hand over your mouth “No! Both completely naked! Do not come in!” Kelce let out a whistle while Topper spoke “ah! We know Y/n’s telling the truth… can we come in please…?” Both Topper and Kelce dragging out the ‘please’. Yep, they are indeed, the cockblocks. Why? Cause Rafe is in a stable relationship and they are still on the hook ups. Also it’s funny to see Rafe annoyed according to them.

2:

You were in the middle of class when you felt something small hit the side of your head. You rolled your eyes at the small piece of paper. Knowing where this was going. You opened the paper and instantly recognised your boyfriend’s handwriting. Rafe wrote ‘he sweet girl, the love of my life, my rock, my everything… can you get me canes when you and the girls go??? PLEASE??’ You smirked and rolled your eyes. Typical Rafe. And also typical you for still getting him canes.

3:

He’s in the shower, using your speaker you left over a couple days ago. What he didn’t know was that you came over to retrieve said speaker. As you got closer to his room you heard very familiar music. Very. Very. Familiar…. Oh the little shit! He signed into your Spotify account to listen to your white chick music. No wonder you could hear Brittany spears and Will.I.Am. You opened his en-suite door quietly. You could hear him faintly singing along ‘scream and shout, and let it all out.. scream and shout-” you pulled back the curtain “RAFE!” He jumped a mile. Almost slipping in the soap suds in the bottom of the shower “JESUS CHRIST!” You laugh “nope not him, but the fuck are you doing singing into my Spotify??” You knew why. He definitely didn’t wanna see all the football guys seeing a playlist on his phone saying ‘which chick tunes’.

4:

It was girls night at the sorority. All of you cozied up on the couches and watching your romcoms or action movies. Whatever you all could agree on, you watched. Then you hear the front door opening and a familiar “Honey I’m home!” You rolled your eyes as the girls laughed at Rafe’s entry. All the frat boys from his frat have arrived. They all approached, wearing comfy clothes. Since they all probably slept in their boxers and didn’t wanna just wear that in front of all the girls. They all come and sit by either their girlfriend or a friend. Rafe moved to cuddle into you. Yep, you can say bye bye to ‘girls’ night and say hello to ‘girls watch movies while the guys commentate or complain when the boy is being a bitch to the girl romcom’ night. Good luck.

5:

Rafe had set up a small ‘date’ for you both. Going to the near-by beach. He parked up his pick up. He pulled back the hard top cover to the trucks bed. Revealing pillows, blankets and a blow up mattress. You smiled at his little date idea. You both laid in the bed of the truck. His arm around you as you both watched the waves. Chatting about everything and anything. And thankfully this time there was no Topper or Kelce to interrupt. Good thinking Rafe.

6:

Rafe was rummaging through his closet looking for his old jersey. He was planning on wearing it to the gym. It was old and he wouldn’t need it for football. So it came in handy. Well, it would’ve. If it was in his closet. He groaned and rolled his eyes. First he thought about how it’s been sitting in the laundry for a week and he completely forgot to wash it. Then he remembered you did his laundry the other day since he was at practice till very late. He knew it was a sweet gesture. Too sweet to be true. Why? Cause you did it to subtly steal his jersey and a few other shirts. As usual. So. As expected. He pulled out his phone and face timed you. He saw you laying on your bed when you answered. He flashed his lopsided smile “hey baby, you okay?” You smiled softly and nodded “yeah, I’m okay, you?” He nodded as he ran his head over his head “yeah, I am… but I’ve seemed to notice a few things kissing in my closet…” you raised an eyebrow. “Missing? What’ve you done now?” He was quick to defend “me?!” You chuckled and nodded. He looked at you for a moment with pure silence. He then brown the silence. “Baby… could have my old jersey… please? I need it for the gym…” you smiled softly “well… since you asked so nicely, I guess you could have it…. If you do… in return, I get it back nice and clean?” He smirked and shook his head “that’s a hard bargain, sweetheart… but sure, I guess I could return it to its ‘rightful owner’…”. You smiled proudly. Yea! You did it. You nodded “deals settled, I’ll see you later. Love ya!” He chuckled “love you too, dummy..”

[planetpedri]

Moments 𖦹 Alexia Putellas !

summary. on your second christmas together, alexia can’t help but feel an overwhelming amount of love for you.

word count. 510+

disclaimers. fluff , wlw !!

bea speaks. merry xmas to those who celebrate!! if not, well just happy day! it’s actually xmas eve for me rn but i needed to post..

The snow was light in Barcelona, which you were grateful that there was even any—but the air had a wintery bite. Inside the warmth of your shared home, christmas lights sparkled throughout the room, casting soft glows of many colors over your faces and the walls. You sat beside Alexia, wrapping a few extra presents in a sea of colorful papers and ribbons.

Alexia had been quiet the whole night, her usual playful quips absent. You’d figured she was just tired and it’s not like you didn’t enjoy being in the silence with her, until it reached thirty minuted before midnight, and you could see her eyebrows pulling together the more she thought.

Finally putting the scissors aside, you nudge her knee. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

She glances up at you, her expression tender but distant. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am,” she answers softly.

Smiling at her, although her tone gave you slight pause, you tilt your head to the side questioningly. “Lucky how?”

“For you.” She murmured, her eyes flickering over your face.

“For this. For us.” She picked up a small ornament on the tub beside her, one that had your names written in sloppy glittered letters. It was pink, you’d picked it out last Christmas—a small memento to your first holiday spent together.

“I’d never thought i’d have peace like this in my life. I’d always been so focused on football—too focused. You know? Like I was afraid I’d get too in deep if I let someone in.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, but you nodded anyways. “And now?” You ask gently.

“Now I can’t imagine my life without you.” She admitted, her voice raw as she gave you a half-lipped smile. “I’m always afraid of losing this—you.”

Moving closer, your heart aching at her words, you take the ornament from her hands and set it aside. “Cariño, you’re not going to lose me,” You say as firmly as possible, cupping her face lightly. “I’m going to be around for every moment, every Christmas, and everything in between. I am not going anywhere.”

The blondes lips quirked into an actual smile then, her eyes glassy as she looked at you. “You have a way with words.”

“I do.” You grin, brushing a thumb over her cheek, “I’m here because I love you, every moment with you.. I cherish, even the quiet nights like tonight.”

Alexia leaned forward, resting her forehead against yours. “Seriously, how do you always know what to say?”

“Because I’m just as lucky as you are?” You quip, Pulling away to smirk at her.

With a small chuckle, Alexia wrapped her fingers around your wrists, tugging you closer to place her lips on yours.

The warmth of her lips spread across you, spreading through your chest like the lights from the tree. Pulling away ever so slightly, you whisper against her lips, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, mi amor.” She murmured right back, now only feeling warm and full of love for you.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future alexia posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @joaoflms @sakashq @h4vertzz @spidybaby

[tvrknows]

Life lessons EPIC: The Musical taught me

Don't trust strangers

Don't eat meat

Kill people

Don't give strangers your ID and credit card info

Don't trust friends

Obey Odysseus

Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves (AKA. "kill people")

Don't trust a stranger godess & eat meat

If your great grandpa offers you drugs, just go with it

Men are pigs (haha I love Circe so much our girl has a sense of humor)

Other ways of persuasion can save you, including: seduction, sympathy

Don't listen to dead people

Listen to dead people

If a woman claims to be your wife but has a tail, funny ears and a dolphin who's supposed to be your daughter (you don't have a daughter) she's not your wife

Sirens are legitimate food (meat though?)

Do what it takes to survive

Dangerous creatures aim for the tourches

Don't trust friends (fr they are a bunch of losers)

Obey. Odysseus.

DONT! EAT! MEAT!

A big heart and a godess' help aren't enough to not lose a battle

Losing a battle is a win as long as you're not dead? (Jesus christ Telemachus has low standards)

Godesses can't die

Stockholm syndrom doesn't beat longing and PTSD

Not cheating on your wife pays (unlike sacrificing your uncle and never trying tequilla)

Don't trust Zeus

Don't play safe (AKA. "ruthlesness")

Don't think that you beat the final boss (there is another one)

Violence is always the answer (AKA. "ruthlesness" lol)

Murder is bad

Rape is bad

Dangerous creatures aim for the tourches (ohhhh they really are the same)

Obey Telemachus

Murder is good

Tiresias is always right

You still haven't beaten the final boss. There is another one. It's you. (Maybe the real final boss is the friends we made along the way 💔)

There is no hope and ruthlesness is mercy upon ourselves but idk Athena go pet a rabbit or something

If a man claims to be your husband and is genuianly offended when you ask him to move your bed (he carved it inside an olive tree, it can't be moved without chopping the roots down) he is indeed your husband

True love overcomes the ick of murder

And let's of course not forget these four that deserve their own list:

Don't open this bag

Open this bag

Don't open this bag under any circumstances

Open this bag (appereantly it's the most powerfull object in the universe)

[jobean12-blog]

You come home and see that babe got you a present. What's in the box?

The Perfect Gift

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 700 (exactly hehe)

Summary: Living in Jackson has given you as close to a normal life as you can get in the post apocalyptic world and Joel just makes it that much better.

Author's Note: Thank you my sweet Cia for sending such lovely thoughts my way! I was doing some yoga this morning and this idea hit me. I appreciate you always thinking of me! I hope you're having the best week and happiest holidays! HUGS and LOVE! ❤️Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy🥰

Warnings: Soft and sweet fluff

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The world outside is muffled in a hush, every sound softened by the blanket of sparkling, cold snow. But inside, there’s only warmth.

A strong arm rests against the curve of your waist and calloused fingertips trace idle shapes on your soft skin. The steady rhythm of his breath is warm along your neck before his lips press delicate kisses down to your bare shoulder.

“Mornin’ darlin’,” he whispers, his voice still deep and rumbly with sleep.

You turn over, burying your face in his chest and mumbling, “good morning.”

He pulls you closer and kisses the top of your head.

“Ready to get up?” he chuckles.

“Is it still snowing?” you ask, keeping your face hidden.

He stirs slightly and after a short pause, quietly answers with a “yes.”

“Let’s stay in bed.”

“What about your present?” he murmurs.

At the mention of a gift, you blink open your eyes and reluctantly drag yourself from his warmth to meet his gaze.

“Gift?”

He nods with a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. You run your fingers through his mussed hair, twirling a stray curl around your fingers before softly kissing him.

“Ok. I can get up for that.”

“I thought so,” he grins with a wink.

He starts to move but you cling to his biceps. “But I don’t want you to leave,” you pout.

“I don’t have to go far,” he says and sits up to reach into the small makeshift nightstand next to the bed.

He pulls out a package, wrapped simply in brown paper with some twine holding it together. He suddenly looks nervous, his expression wide eyed with worry and your eyebrows draw in.

“Joel?”

Without blinking he stares at you and sets it in your lap.

You give him one last curious glance and pull at the string. The paper opens and out falls one of his flannels, your favorite one.

Your face lights up in a smile and you hug it to your chest, letting the sheet fall from your shoulders, revealing more of your naked skin.

He reaches out to touch you. “Do you like it? I know it’s nothing new, but I know how much you love wearing them. Now this one is officially yours.”

Pressing the soft fabric to your chest you bring the collar to your nose with a deep inhale.

Sighing softly, you whisper, “it’s perfect Joel. I love it!”  

You throw yourself into his arms and he helps you put it on, slowly and carefully closing each button but not without brushing his knuckles along your skin, sending a shiver of goosebumps down your spine.

“There,” he says, looking you over. “My perfectly wrapped present.”

You giggle and run your hands down the front. As you do you feel something hard in the front pocket. You stop and look up to find Joel smiling softly.

“Find something else?”

When you reach into the pocket your fingers close around something small and cool and then you pull out your hand in your palm rests a simple gold band.

Your eyes widen and you suck in a gasp.

He takes it from your hand and grabs your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up to his.

“Darlin’,” he starts, his voice gruff with emotion. “I was so lost before. But now that I have you, I need you. Not in the ways to survive, but in the ways that make life worth living. I was made and meant to look for you and wait for you and become yours forever…that is, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

The tears fall freely down your cheeks, and you manage a “yes,” just before your arms wind around his neck and you pepper him with kisses. He takes the ring and with a gentleness that makes your breath catch he slips it onto your left ring finger.

“I love you.”

Your words are a whisper, and he takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips to kiss across your knuckles, then your palm and finally your wrist before your hand opens to cradle his cheek.

“I love you more,” he answers, closing his eyes.

[sweetieviktor]

"it's the tradition", feat. viktor.

summary: it's christmas in runeterra and couples are sharing kisses under the mistletoe.

word count: 1.000. (yes! exactly 1k im happy with it :]

content warning: just fluff as always! :DD (written with s1 viktor in mind!!!

author notes: ITS 5AM AND IVE WRITTEN 2 FICS IN A DAY, maybe im going to die but fuck it we ball. love viktor and love xmas, i wish i could use sweaters but in brazil december is sooo hot but yeah, here it is a lil something for the holidays. hope u like it!! :)))

whenever some holiday approaches, piltover academy is adorned in it's colour by students. it's december and the halls are decorated with reds and greens all the way, bringing joy to those who look up and see the fairy lights blinking slowly to them. christmas is coming, and so is winter.

everyone is using their thickest coats, but there's still some people who are cold, even if they are holding hot drinks to warm up both their hands and their body, or if they are rubbing their arms, creating some friction that could maybe help it, or sharing kisses under the mistletoe meticulously placed on the tree near the entrance of the academy, which have all kind of things hanging on it. some letters addressed to santa, little brilliant baubles made in all type of materials you could think of, red bows and colorful lights, all made by it's students.

you wanted to spend your day like this, enjoying over your partner's warmth under the mistletoe. well, life isn't fair. he was already working and you needed to work too, but maybe you could bring him some sweet milk and cookies on your lunch break, right?

so once the clock hitted midday, you walked to the cafeteria, the same one you and viktor got out on your first date, and ordered enough cookies for both of you. the women on the other side of the counter packed them to you, putting the little bag on your right hand, while you carried the cup of sweet milk on the other. finally, you got out, hands full, hoping that you could bring him some of the christmas spirit when leaving those in the lab.

when you made it to the academy again, it was even more crowded than earlier, students going in and out, chatting and joking around, throwing snowballs at each other and playing in the snow. and again, the couples kissing under the mistletoe. and all you could think of was him. oh, how you missed his kisses. so you hurried up, the flashy holiday themed colors in the halls blending together in an indistinguishable blur.

once you reached his lab, you knocked on the door, anxiously waiting for an answer. you could feel how your heart thumped against your ribs, maybe it's the nervousness or just because you runned all the way to come here in time. “come in,” was all you could hear from inside.

you turned the door knob, pushing it so you could enter the lab. he was hunched over his desk, but once he looked past his shoulder, realizing you were the one who got in, his golden eyes immediately lighted up, just like the fairy lights, but shined even brighter when he seemed the baked goods you carried, then turning again to his work, “just wait a bit, i will finish this, ehh- hopefully soon.”

you came from behind him, leaving both the bag and the cup over his desk, “i know these are your favorites,” you put your hand on his shoulder, “and it's my break now, but soon i need to get back to work,” his hand stopped, no longer making calculations. he looked up at you, then at the papers in front of him, thinking if he should or not give in.

sighing, he let the pencil over the papers. you knew he would keep working if you didn't say it. “i guess i could give myself a break, then,” the corners of his mouth quirking up while he reached for the bag, opening it and letting the smell of the cookies bathe the place, bringing coziness alongside it. he shoved his hand on the bag, picking one up and biting onto it, humming softly when it melted on his tongue, then bringing the almost half cookie to your lips, only to put away and eat it himself.

he was laughing loudly, keeping a hand over his mouth, to prevent any crumbs from coming out. “you ain't fair,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. you knew he was just joking, but you wanted to eat too, “i brought those so we both could eat. together!”

“i know, i know!”, he said, getting the cup of sweet milk and taking a sip of it, “but it's fun to tease you. can't help it,” he shrugged, looking at your pouty expression turning into one of anger. picking another cookie, he proceeded to feed you first, your frown immediately disappearing. he was trying to not laugh again, but he couldn't contain it, as he did so, soon the frown came back to your face.

“stop making fun of me and let me eat, for jannas's sake,” you also couldn't keep your smile from growing, it was such a good atmosphere that, even if you were mad at him for stealing your cookie and laughing at you, you couldn't be mad for longer than thirty seconds.

you were laughing with him, happy with how your lunch was going, eating and talking, so busy with everything that you didn't see him fidgeting, looking for something inside his jacket pocket. once there was no more food nor milk, he cleaned his hands, bringing one over you both, holding something up. a mistletoe.

you scoffed, running your hand over your face, “really, viktor?”, you were astonished, he truly got one of those just he could have an excuse to kiss you?

“well, it's the tradition, isn't it?”, he grinned, placing his free hand on your waist, bringing you closer, “any person who's under the mistletoe must kiss, it's correct?”

“yes, absolutely correct,” you put both hands on each side of his face, kissing his lips softly, tasting the sugar on his mouth. “but you taste like milk and cookies,” you kissed him again, just to make sure you got it right, “maybe next year i will bring you more of these, so we could kiss under the mistletoe again.”

“oh, christmas may be my favorite holiday now.”

[psychohoneywhiskey]

What about Wade going to a different timelime requested by the TVA years after the Time Ripper. They told him the X-men and the anchor being of that universe were in danger and he needed to make sure they survived and he got rid of the problem for good.

So Wade goes alone to avoid his babygirl having to face the alternative versions of his dead team. He gets to the X mansion and explains them the situation, tells them he is Deadpool, a mercenary sent by a time organization to save them all and they believe him.

Everything was going surprisingly well until, well, it wasn't. And how could he have not thought to ask who the anchor being of that universe was? How could he not notice the absence of a very important person there? He is still surprised (after years of not seeing that amount of rage directed at him from his Logan) to see a younger Logan get to the mansion baring his teeth at him, unseathing his claws and preparing to pounce, seeing him as a threat.

And when he does he tries everything in his power not to hurt him, evading the punches, claws, and 300 pounds of feral Wolverine and not attacking him even once. Eventually, Logan stops confused about the man's playful attitude and the voices of the X-men asking him to calm down. When he asks Wade suspiciously 'why didn't you fight back bub?', Wade just laughs and answers in a tone so soft and sweet and foreign to him 'Well, if this had happened years ago I would have indulged in some fun, I always loved taming a feral Wolvie but I can't bear to hurt an alternative version of my husband now'.

Everything got so quiet he could have heard a pin drop but Wade was solely focused on Logan, watching the similarities to the love of his life who now had some more wrinkles around his eyes and cheeks, a soft healthy body, hair almost fully gray and a sweet smile almost all of the time around him, Laura, their friends, their family. Compared to this Logan who still looked so tense, wary, ready to run.

He stays with them for weeks waiting for the attackers to get there while spending time with this version of Logan. And as the time passes the man understands why other version of him would be head over heels for the mercenary, yeah the man is so damn weird and loud and fucking annoying at times but he has never found someone who could understand him and make him feel the way he does. He starts yearning, for a person, a place he will never have cause it already belongs to someone else and he dreads the moment Wade will leave and not come back ever again. And the X-men notice it, bewildered by Logan's behavior around Deadpool, how he seems to follow his lead as naturally as breathing, how they seem to get what the other is thinking or feeling just by seeing each other and they realize Logan has never been fully theirs cause he is just waiting for someone else to bring him home.

Inevitably when the time comes, and Dealpool saves them, he doesn't even have time to react and say goodbye to the merc cause a weird orange portal opens in the middle of the war field and a blue and yellow suited hand appears through it yanking Wade away, and Logan recognizes a voice so similar to his saying 'you've taken too long Mouth, our daughter's birthday is next week, and we all miss you at home'.

Logan knows all his life he's just been a stray longing for a place to settle but at least now he can hope there is a loud mouth, sarcastic, pretty, and soft mercenary with no filter waiting for him somewhere in his world to take him home.

I apologize for any mistake, I'm not a writer and English is not my first language but I just can't get enough of these men and any of their versions being soft with each other.

[pomefioredove]

May I please have a sugar cookie, order number 15, with sprinkles & chocolate chips?

I'm super excited I came in time for this event, I adore your blog & am excited to see what comes of this.

(Pardon me as I cross my fingers in hoping to get one of my babygirls or just one of my faves)

—🐈‍⬛

you get one of MY babygirls. praise mana-sama for helping me through requests today

order #15, sugar with sprinkles and chocolate chips

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ unlike yourself

tropes: hurt/comfort, fake dating characters: rook additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, short and sweet, probably ooc

It's strange, you think.

Rook Hunt, the mysterious, distant vicewarden, loved you more in an evening than anyone else had in months.

Only an act. You had to remind yourself of that, every time he squeezed your hand or pulled you closer to him.

Every time he whispered something silly in your ear, every time he kissed the back of your hand. Only an act.

"I could write a thousand poems of you, mon amour, and never become bored of it,"

At some point, you had stopped looking at the others. You had forgotten they were there altogether.

It's only an act.

It felt like a fairytale, glittering, iridescent and silver, yet one that still ended at midnight in rags and pumpkin seeds.

You didn't want to think about that.

That by sunrise, the event would be over, and you would be back to your life. Back to your drafty dorm and secondhand clothes, back to your cold, lonely mornings. Back to yourself.

Back to the person you so hated.

Rook made you feel something unlike yourself. You were someone beautiful to him, someone interesting, someone loveable, someone worth teaching to dance, no matter how many times you stepped on his toes.

He only smiled.

You had asked him to be your date, to lie with you, to act with you, to prove to everyone that you were that someone, so unlike yourself, that you were beautiful and interesting and loveable, and worthy.

It had been your request. Just two hours, you said, and now you selfishly want more. You want years.

You want to make him feel the way he makes you.

"Your eyes are watering," Rook whispers, holding your face and drying your tears with the gentle touch of his gloved thumbs.

"Why are you sad, mon ange?"

You can't tell him. It's only an act. It's only an act. You want him to stay. He can't. He won't.

You can't ask him to stay.

"You are tired," he says, smiling sweetly, his cupid's bow curving. "Let's get you home, Trickster."

He's right, of course.

And you don't want to leave, you don't want to lose something on the velvet steps of the dorm, but you do, for him.

He walks you back to Ramshackle himself. He tucks you in bed and makes you something warm to eat since you both know the silver-plated hors d'oeuvres weren't enough.

You don't want to close your eyes. But he asks you to sleep, and you do, for him.

And so you wake up in your drafty dorm and your secondhand clothes in a bed that isn't really yours, feeling like yourself again.

But today, on this cold morning, he's sitting with you, and it isn't lonely.

"Oh, Trickster," he whispers, leaning over your, holding your face and gazing at you with something like softness.

"You did not have to ask me to stay. The answer is always yes."

And he kisses, again and again, your lips, your cheeks, your nose and head. He kisses that person, the one in rags, the messy one, the lonely one, you. He kisses you. He wants you.

And you think, perhaps this person, this yourself, isn't so bad.

Rook loves them, after all.

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Hope for Christmas

Spill it, Buck," Maddie said.

"Well, you know how I've always kind of been a go big or go home guy?" Buck asked.

"Yes, I have met you," Maddie said dryly.

"Well, I kind of bought Tommy's Christmas present before the breakup, and it's non-refundable, so I was thinking I could gift it to you and Chim."

"What's the gift?" Maddie asked, curiosity piqued.

"Uh, an all-inclusive vacation to Cabo..." Buck's voice trailed off, waiting for her reaction.

"Buck," Maddie said, her voice softening.

Buck took a deep breath. "It was going to be perfect. I'd planned everything - private villa, sunset dinners, couples' massage. I talked to his captain and arranged his schedule. I wanted it to be this big, romantic gesture that showed Tommy how serious I was about us."

"Call him," Maddie said.

"What?" Buck said, confusion evident in his tone.

"Call him," Maddie repeated, simple and direct.

"Mads. I can't do that. We broke up. He dumped me," Buck said, his voice heavy with hurt.

"So? It was meant to be a gift, right? You don't have to do all the romantic stuff, but you still like each other, right?" Maddie said, her tone practical and hopeful.

"No, Maddie," Buck said quietly. "I don't just like him. I love him. I am in love with him."

Maddie's expression softened. "So call him. Not to get back together. Just...as friends. As people who care about each other."

Buck hesitated, his fingers already unconsciously tracing the outline of his phone in his pocket. "What would I even say?"

"Hey, I bought this trip before we broke up. Want a free vacation?" Maddie suggested with a hint of a smile.

"That's your brilliant plan?" Buck raised an eyebrow.

"Sometimes the simplest approach works best," she said. "You're overthinking it. Just reach out."

Buck took a deep breath. His hand shook slightly as he picked up the phone.

"It's ringing," Buck whispered, his voice barely audible. Maddie gave him a thumbs up and silently slipped away.

"Go for Kinard," Tommy answered, his tone professional and guarded.

"Hey...hey...uh, Tommy. It's Evan Buckley," Buck stammered, each word feeling like it was being pulled from him.

Tommy tried to laugh, but it was unnatural sounding, his discomfort apparent even over the phone."Well hello, Evan Buckley. This is a surprise. What can I do for you?"

"Well uh..." Buck took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "It's Christmas and I got you a gift before we broke up. And I want to give it to you but it's complicated."

"Complicated how?" Tommy asked curiously.

"Well...I kind of got you a trip to Cabo...with me...and well it's non-refundable and I know you have the time off because I kind of arranged it with your captain back in November before well...you know. So the trip is yours if you want it. You can take anyone you want-" Buck rambled, the words tumbling out in a nervous rush.

"Buck, wow, that's so thoughtful," Tommy said, genuine surprise softening his previously guarded tone.

"Yeah well...you deserve it," Buck said softly.

"Come with me?" Tommy asked.

"Are you sure? That could be weird," Buck responded, uncertainty threading through his words.

"I still want you in my life, Buck," Tommy said.

"On one condition..." Buck said, a hint of playfulness emerging.

"What's that?" Tommy asked.

"Never call me Buck again," he replied, a hint of a laugh threading through words that were undeniably serious.

"I promise, Evan," Tommy said, his voice sincere.

"Well, I guess we're going on vacation," Buck replied, the words full of nervous energy catching in his throat.

"Yeah, I guess we are," Tommy said, his tone a vulnerable mix of cautious optimism and uncertainty.

[it-was-summer]

Buy Me Presents, Baby

A/N: Minors; DNI. I DONT CAREEE I WANT HIM!! Anyways, this may or may not be based on true events in my life. If you're reading this also know that I wrote this Christmas Eve and it is now 5am on Christmas Day, the powerhouse of lust. Hope you guys like this because I DID NOT proofread this AT ALL!! I mention the pill (oral contraception), so sorry if this is an issue, I'm just a girl. I KNOW there is a typo in here... i know it. Merry Christmas!! My gift is porn!!- Love you, Em

edit- the typo was fully in the title… go to bed at a reasonable time kids.

Link to the Ao3: Buy Me Presents, Baby Link to the: Yee olde masterlist Tags: Woof uhh okay! newly established relationship, Christmas sex, Spanking, Creampie, PnV sex, Reader gets called girl.. I apologize, Oral contraceptives are mentioned at the end, lingerie, that one bow lingerie... yall know which on I'm talking about?, That ONE!! WITH THE BOW YES!!, I had to use the word pussy.. IM SORRT IM NOT HAPPY ABOUT It, dirty talk, cock this cock that, not proofread, merry christmas.

Genre: Porn, no plot. Some fluff? Pairing: Established relationship!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Plot: You and Spencer exchange gifts for Christmas, and one of your gifts happens to be a little physical.

Word Count: 3,669

Spencer doesn’t know what’s gotten into you. 

Though the longer he thinks about it, he should have seen the signs of your recent… restlessness. Being in the BAU came with its challenges, and one of these challenges was— of course— being away from home. Usually, the two of you would find a special time that worked for both of you to meet up and spend some well-deserved time together. 

Lately, it has felt like the world was against you, though. Every time you had free time, he’d plan a date night with you, only for him to be called away on a case. The one time you planned a date, you came down with a cold. The cycle kept repeating in a million different annoying ways. 

The cherry on top? It was almost Christmas. It's nearly Christmas, and neither of you has seen each other for a good three weeks— it’s miserable. 

So imagine his excitement when his phone doesn’t ring early Saturday morning. When he steps out of his shower, he checks it again— nothing. He’s beaming when he calls you, your sleepy voice answering him before he says, “Dinner tonight?” 

There’s a pause, followed by some rustling, “You’re free?” 

“Mhm,” He hums with a grin, grabbing his glasses from the case and placing them gracefully on his face. 

He can hear the excitement in your voice. " You want to exchange presents?” He remembers the playful tone in your voice when you said it, but at the time, he thought nothing of it. He chuckles softly before agreeing, saying a sweet goodbye, and hanging up the phone. 

Dinner begins and ends at your place, decorated in lights and festive trinkets, and presents wrapped neatly under the fake tree in the corner of your living room. The gift exchange went smoothly; you got Spencer some reading essentials, followed by a special edition of one of his favorite books. Spencer, in turn, had bought you a pair of earrings you pointed out back in November and a framed copy of your favorite painting.

It was getting late now, with a warm cup of tea in his hands, you turned and whispered in a playful voice, “I still have one more gift for you.” 

His eyebrows raised at that, bending his head to look at you as you sat with your back pressed against his chest, “More? After the special edition Tolstoy?” 

“More. I was saving it for the twenty-fifth, but…” You trail off, your eyes leaving his as you glance toward your bedroom. “I could go get it ready now?” 

Spencer smiles, thinking about it momentarily before he decides that he might not be home for Christmas. He mutters a soft “Yeah, okay.” 

You stand up quickly, an excited look in your eyes when you tell him, “Okay, stay here!” And then you’re gone. 

Spencer’s watching your bedroom door close with a faint smile. He stretches as he waits, his tea finished, when he hears you call out for him, “You can come in now!” 

He stepped into your room with nothing but good intentions, that is, until he saw you lying on your bed in lingerie. Maroon satin material lays smooth against your skin, and the shape of a tantalizing bow teases him at the center of your chest and your underwear— barely there. 

He clears his throat in a vain attempt to appear calm and collected, though he’s sure you can see his blushing cheeks and growing arousal. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words die in the back of his throat when you sit up on your elbows, pushing your breast out toward him a little more with an innocent tilt of your head. “You don’t like it?” 

His voice cracks when he says, “No! I mean— that is to say, I do like it! I mean, I’m sure you can see how much I–” He nervously adjusts his sweater, shaky hands pulling at the collar. 

You let out a soft hum, relaxing a little. " Are you going to stand by the door the whole time, or?” You tease him with a low laugh. 

He quickly walks closer, shaking his head as he gets closer to the edge of the bed. The bed dips as he climbs onto the edge of the bed. He watches as you roll on your side to adjust for him, waiting until he is lying beside you before you whisper, “If you don’t want to, it’s okay–” 

“I do! I do. It’s just we’ve only–” He motions between the two of you slowly, replacing the word. “A few times, and I wasn’t expecting,” His eyes trail down to your chest, his fingers twitching– itching to feel the material against his palm.  

When he looks back into your eyes, you smile at him with a little sigh, “I know. I just saw it, and I thought of you.” 

Spencer feels like his entire body is on fire when you say that. His pants become increasingly uncomfortable as he croaks softly, “That made you think of me?” 

You hum a sweet-sounding “Mhm,” you lick your lips, “Cognitive association, right?” 

Spencer thinks you’ll break him with the way you’re talking to him; your voice is low and quiet, clearly amused. He holds back a sound when he feels your hand take his and guide it to your barely clothed hip. For some reason, he wants to spew some facts about cognitive association, but in a rare moment, his mind goes blank. 

His mind slows, and the only thing he can process is the feeling of satin material against your body. He drags his hand along your side, higher and higher, until his fingers trace the bra’s underwire. His eyes flicker over to yours as he leans in, pressing a slow kiss to your lips. 

Kissing Spencer always starts soft, tender, and languid. It then slowly devolves into something passionate, heated, rough– something you adore. And you’re starting to feel the shift in this kiss, his tongue slightly grazing your bottom lip– a silent plea you happily fulfill, parting your lips to let his tongue tentatively enter the kiss. 

You’re smiling into the kiss, shifting with him so you’re under him before grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him deeper into the kiss. Spencer lets out a tiny sound of surprise against your lips at the rough movement, and he pulls away slightly, his lips barely touching yours when he says, “So aggressive,” His tone teasing as he captures your lips in another giddy kiss. 

With your eyes closed and mouth occupied, your hands get to work. Blindly, you pull the bottom of his sweater, your lips only leaving his to help him pull the piece of clothing off his body. He’s eager to get his lips back on yours, his tongue resuming its work against yours, a kiss that makes your head spin and thoughts go hazy with how intense it feels. 

You move your legs up and around his hips, pushing his hips down to yours with ease. Spencer whines into the kiss, his lips moving slowly against yours until he pulls away to kiss your jawline. His hips grind down onto yours, your breath hitching at the feeling. 

Feeling his hardness through his pants makes you realize just how badly you need him, and it seems it does the same for him. His lips latch onto the lower side of your neck, sucking and licking softly at the sensitive area as his hips grind against yours harder. 

The feeling makes your core squeeze around nothing; the new desire to get something, anything, inside you plants a seed in your lower abdomen. You feel shamefully needy as Spencer continues leaving light red and purple marks on the sensitive skin of your neck, his breathing heavy as he decorates you with marks. 

You’re surprised to see that he’s actually moving lower, his markings getting closer to your collarbone when he pulls away, looking up at you with those lust-filled honey eyes, “May I?” The tips of his fingers tug lightly at the satin red bow covering your breasts. 

Your legs leave his hips as he pulls the bow apart with a simple flick of his wrist. His eyes stay trained on your breast as he takes one into his hand and gently rubs at your nipple, eliciting a soft, quiet moan from you, “So pretty,” Then he dips his head lower to bring your left nipple into his mouth, licking at the sensitive bud with precision. 

A sound— embarrassingly loud— escapes your lips at the feeling, your body squirming against his. You’re sure you can feel him smiling against your breast, his right hand moving to your right nipple, pinching it lightly. 

Your fingers latch onto his hair, gently running them through his hair and occasionally pulling when his tongue does something particularly amazing against the bud of your nipple. You can feel electric arousal coursing through you, soft moans and sighs leaving you with every touch. 

However, he’s pulling his lips away from your breast soon after, his cheeks red as he mutters a low, “Need to make sure you cum,” And you find yourself nodding in agreement as his hands leave your breast, pulling the lingerie’s satin thong to the side as he swipes two fingers along your entrance. 

You let out a little sigh, feeling incredibly needy as his fingers brush against your clit teasingly. “Did dressing up like this make you this wet, or did I?” He asks, his fingers curiously leading back down to your entrance. 

Shifting under him, you let out a breathless chuckle, “A bit of both,” 

He grins at that, his head now to the side of yours, his thumb pressing against your clit slowly as he slides a finger inside you. You tense for a second with pleasure before relaxing as the feelings, his finger gently curling inside of you as his thumb presses down harder on your swollen bundle of nerves. “You’ve been fantasizing about this for weeks, haven’t you?” 

His voice against your ear isn’t something you expect, but you aren’t surprised for long as he slides a second finger into you— your thoughts turning to mush, “Yes,” You whisper, your back arching slightly at his fingers move faster inside you, curling and pleasing you at a medium pace. 

Spencer lets out a low hum, his eyes watching you as you get lost in pleasure, his thumb pressing against your clit a little harder as he finds that sweet little spot inside of you. He can feel the way your walls tighten around his fingers, and he’s envious of his own hand, wishing it was his cock instead. 

Your moans only add to personal envy, his fingers moving and caressing your G-spot with greater precision. He tries not to groan, watching you arch your back off the bed. A cry followed by a string of heightened gasps from you has him wholly enraptured. 

When his fingers start to get rough inside you, you’re already seeing stars, your left hand reaching over to grab onto Spencer’s bicep at the feelings, fingers gently digging into his skin as your body shakes. “Love watching you get close,” Spencer groans softly against your ear. 

His lips slowly resume their markings on your neck, and the added stimulation sends you falling over the edge with a loud cry of pleasure. Your body shakes against him, and your high-pitched moans, accompanied by heavy panting, have pride swelling in his chest as his fingers help you ride out your orgasm. 

His fingers only stop when your body goes slack, his lips leaving your neck to gently kiss at your lips— a gesture you return lazily. The feeling of his fingers leaving you has you feeling empty, but you’re quickly distracted as Spencer drags his soaked fingers to his lips. Your eyes widen for a second as you watch your boyfriend lick off every bit of you on them, “Let me get a taste,” Your voice is soft as Spencer leans in, kissing you fast and rough. Your tongue drags along his to get a second-hand taste of yourself in his mouth. 

You’re quick to pull away, your hands hooking into the belt loop of his pants, gently yanking at the loop. Spencer laughs at the feeling, and he looks into your eyes with a shameful look— lustful and pleading. You know how badly he wants to dive straight in, but his determination to make you cum too many times to count usually gets in the way of his cock. 

“Haven’t seen you in three weeks. You can make it up to me later.” You joke softly, your fingers undoing the top button with ease. 

Spencer grins as he slides his pants down his legs, kicking them off. He finds himself blushing at how your eyes shamefully stare at the outline of his cock in his boxers, precum already wetting some of the fabric. He finds himself doing the same with you, though, his eyes taking in the undone ribbon of the lingerie at your sides, the way your legs are parted to give him a delicious view of your dripping sensitive folds. 

Your fingers slip into the waistband of his boxers, gently tracing his cock with your fingers, a soft, pleasured sigh leaving his lips at the feeling. “So hard,” You mutter, leaning up to kiss a part of Spencer’s jaw. 

Spencer lets out a low hum of agreement. Being as busy as he has been, he hasn’t found time for any kind of sexual release as of late. “It’s been a little while since I’ve–” 

“That’s okay,” You sigh sensually, your hands wrapping around his dick slowly, “Take off your boxers.” 

Spencer’s more than happy to comply, hurriedly discarding his boxers at your request. He watches as you pull your hand off him to take off your underwear, and Spencer squeaks out a nervous, “Leave it on?” 

Grinning, you nod, your fingers pushing the thong back to the side of him. He groans at the action, looming over you now, his hands on either side of you. “Flip over,” 

A jolt of excitement runs through you at the request, quickly flipping over on your stomach for him. A pleased sound leaves your lips as his hand moves to pull your hips up, forcing your back to arch for him. He slides his thumb and index inside the sting on your thong as he slowly rubs his cock in between your folds– the head of his cock gently kissing your clit. 

The worst part about being in an established relationship and having just started having sex with your partner is the anxiety that follows you after you say something risky. Your lips part nonetheless, your hips pushing back against him quickly, “That’s right, get that cock wet with my pussy.” 

You were never dull during sex, but Spencer was not expecting something so vulgar to fall from your lips. His hips stutter against yours before he finds himself incredibly turned on by the sudden confidence and vulgarity in your words. His hands yank your hips back roughly, lining himself up to inch himself inside of you slowly. 

About halfway inside you, he pulls out till it is just the tip and then repeats the motion— it’s infuriatingly hot. You let out a soft whine at his toying with you and start to move your hips back against him, but that is met with a surprising spank to your ass. 

A sharp gasp leaves your lips at the feelings before you blink, lifting your head to peer at him over your shoulder and whisper a little, “Harder,” 

Seeing your half-lidded eyes looking over at him, your soft lips begging him to spank you harder, Spencer feels a shiver shoot down his spine. He’s sure he can feel himself grow harder as he pushes deeper into your pussy and delivers a solid smack to your ass with the flat of his palm. 

He then follows the motion with a comforting rub of his hand against the swell of your ass. For a second, he’s worried about hurting you or making you uncomfortable–  unexplored territory. The feeling of your walls tightening around him for a second, fluttering in a way that has him bottoming out inside you without hesitation, reassures him. 

“God,” He huffs as he sets a pace, his hand occasionally delivering a hard spank to your ass whenever he feels your hips moving with his. You feel terrific; the feel of your reddening ass under his hand, the soft skin of your hip in his other, he’s surprised that he isn’t drooling. 

You, however, are starting to feel yourself beginning to drool. Moans and groans coming from the two of you has your head spinning, the rough feeling of Spencer’s hips against yours making your legs feel weak. 

Spencer pulls all the way out as he feels himself getting close, his soaked cock resting against your ass– the sight is something has him letting out a shaky sigh. He doesn’t need to say anything before you’re flipping over on your back again, legs spread and lips wet as you mutter a needy sounding, “More.” 

Spencer can’t find it in himself to deny you or himself, moving closer to you and lining himself up with your entrance again. As he sinks into you, you move your legs up, your hands holding the back of your knee. The new position lets him sink in deeper, and Spencer’s sure you’re an angel. 

You’re practically sucking him in, his breathing getting heavier as he moves against you, His eyes dipping between your face and between your legs– intelligent eyes watching the way his cock disappears deep inside of you. “You take it so well.” 

His hands reach up slowly, tracing the back of your thighs before replacing your hands at the back of your knee, bending your legs back further. He places a chaste kiss on your forehead, the gentle gesture leaving your head reeling when accompanied by this immense pleasure. 

You gasp out at the slight burn of your thighs, toes curling slightly, when Spencer starts to roll his hips in fast, tight circles. The roll of his hips makes his cock hit your G-spot, your eyes rolling back at the feeling as a guttural-sounding groan joins the lewd sounds leaving your lips. 

Spencer takes that as his sign to snap his hips into yours, his forehead pressing against yours as he moans and whines. “You feel so fucking good. I’ll never leave again.” 

You can feel your lower abdomen tighten quickly at the rough movements. A shaky laugh leaves you at his mention of never leaving, but words fail you as you cry out. The past few times the two of you have had sex, he was never this rough. You aren’t complaining, but his frantic, rapid thrusts are leaving you with the feeling that you’ll beg for a repeat sometime in the future. 

A long whine leaves you as you feel yourself getting closer, your hands holding tight on Spencer’s shoulders, your body jolting slightly with his rough thrusts. “So good! You’re fucking me so good. Please, don’t stop.” You beg without shame, “Need to cum, make me cum again.” You beg through moans. 

Spencer almost cums inside you upon hearing your begging, but he holds off— a new mission in focus. He slows for a second, moving one of your hands off his shoulder and under your knee before he slides his hand down to your aching clit. His thumb makes quick, tight, hard circles without warning— the scream that leaves your chest has him worried for your neighbors. 

“That’s it, tighten around me like that.” He pants out from above you, his eyes locking onto yours as he speaks. He watches the way your eyebrows raise in pleasure, and your mouth starts to let out a mix of silent screams and loud groans. “You look pretty when you cum around my cock, my pretty girl.” 

Your legs are shaking with that, the coil in your abdomen snapping with force as you bite your bottom lip to try and silence the sound of your orgasm– a groan that almost sounds inhuman. Spencer’s quick to follow, his hips roughly snapping into yours with his thumb continuing its torment on your sensitive clit. 

The feeling of overstimulation has you letting out a weak-sounding whine, almost a sob. You’re gasping hard as he keeps going, frenzied thrusts that have your free hand gripping the sheet tight until he bottoms out in you with a shaking groan. His hips thrust into you a few more times as he empties himself into you, shaking hard. 

A moment passes with neither of you moving, your legs moving down to the bed, and the realization sets in. Spencer looks at you with wild eyes, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking–” 

You laughed weakly and held up a hand, “Spencer, it’s okay.” Your voice sounds a little raw as you relax into your bed slightly, with him still hovering over you. “I’m on the pill, remember?” 

“Well, when taken correctly, it’s 99% effective, but if you’ve forgotten a day lately, it’s only 93%.” He pouts lightly when a giggle leaves your lips, but he smiles against his better judgment. “I’m serious, what if…” 

“I doubt it will, but if it does come to that, we’ll deal with it.” You mutter, slowly reaching a hand up to rake your fingers through his messy brown hair. “Clean me up?” 

Spencer notes how your voice sounds: shy and a little desperate. He tilts his head, a playful smile on his face as his eyes trail down to your parted thighs, “Insatiable this evening, I see,” He jokes as he begins to lower himself, soft fingers rubbing against your inner thighs.  

You groan in faux annoyance before you feel his breath fanning against your inner thighs, “Merry Christmas,” You tease softly.

[seeingivy]

I think the ttpd requests thing is so cute I love that album!!! could I request i can fix him x toji fushiguro or i loved you the way that you were x satoru gojo (THE ANGST)? ilysm

i loved you the way that you were x satoru gojo

**part of my tortured poets concert event

--

“what did he do today?” 

at the sound of megumi’s voice, coupled with his footsteps getting menacingly louder as he tracks down the hall, you immediately slam the tattered cardboard box shut, haphazardly leaning over it in some misguided attempt to prevent him from seeing the insides. 

it partially does the job. true to your attempt, you covering the box with the weight of your body prevents him from seeing the contents. but the sight of you leaning over the counter, hands outstretched in a position so unnatural, doesn’t do the job of preventing him from asking again. or even raising the question as to why you were being so secretive in the first place. 

“what’s in the box?” megumi asks. 

“your birthday present.” you state. 

megumi narrows his eyes at you. 

“my birthday isn’t for another two months.” 

“never hurts to start getting gifts early! especially since december can be busy with the holidays and all.” you murmur. 

megumi narrows his eyes at you, his signal to you that he won’t necessarily drop his question, that instead he’ll be more adamant on the fact that he deserves the answer, as you retreat your hold on the box. 

“did you want to eat breakfast?” you ask. 

“sure. then, we can talk about what’s in there. and whatever tantrum gojo sensei threw this morning.” 

you glare at him. 

“it’s not a tantrum. he’s just…having a difficult time adjusting. it’s hard.” you insist. 

megumi rolls his eyes. 

“well, we’ve all had a difficult time. it’s not just him.” he mutters, the tone in his voice searingly angry. 

there’s natural symptoms that you can expect from the ordeal – of satoru being put back together, inches from death, of megumi having his body used as a puppet – that you anticipate. the ones that you can expect are easy to handle, because you know what they are. could anticipate before hand what they would be.

shock.

numbness. 

a loss of regular life. 

megumi doesn’t say anything for two weeks. sometimes it takes a good effort to get satoru to shower. the two of them are no longer particularly fond of eating. 

what you don’t expect is the disability. because in the aftermath of the loss, shoko can only put so much of satoru back together. and while mostly everything is intact – his limbs, his legs, his heart – the six eyes and the limitless technique don’t return. and in ways you can’t understand, it takes too harsh of a toll. 

he can barely walk straight, slamming into doors or hitting the side edge of the coffee table because he insists he couldn’t sense it spatially, whatever that meant. the loss of limitless means that most of the times, standing still feels like he’s drowning, not being able to manipulate the space around him leaves him debilitated to the point where you sometimes find him cowering in a corner.

rambling over and over again about how he’s unprotected, far too exposed out in the open. 

shoko can’t fix the six eyes or the limitless. and as long as you’re all concerned, they won’t ever return. 

and neither will the satoru gojo that you knew and loved.

his frustrations drive him to be angry, withdrawn, and closed off every time you see him. unable to even ask for help.

and the byproduct of it all is just as shocking. because satoru gojo’s newfound flagrance for life is something that drives megumi fushiguro insane. 

“satoru threw away his entire sunglasses collection this morning.” you state. 

megumi frowns. 

“isn’t it worth like…thousands of dollars?” he asks. 

you shrug. 

“he’s just insisting that he has no need for them anymore, so what’s the point of keeping them around where they’re just taking up space?” 

megumi sucks in his teeth. 

“i see. so why’d you go dig them out of the trash? you should have saved yourself the trouble than typing to help him when he’s intent on…on acting so pathetic.” he asks. 

“i didn’t dig them out of the trash.” you retort. 

megumi narrows his eyes at you. 

“the box smells. you kind of do too. and i could hear you from my window this morning rustling with the bins, it woke me up.” he states. 

you frown, before opening up the box, and reaching in for the set of sunglasses right at the top. they’re simple frames, silver on the sides, dark black shades, but now there’s a deep crack in the lens on the right. you’re afraid if you push it too hard, it’ll shatter into tiny pieces. but you throw away the thought, extending them out to megumi.

“do you remember these?” you ask. 

megumi takes the frames, holding them up to the light, as he inspects them. he gives you a halfhearted shake. 

“satoru wore these at our wedding. and every anniversary after, he’s…worn them to the dinner that we have together. makes some dumb joke about how he’s seeing me for the first time all over again.” 

megumi gives a nod, before gently placing the frames back in the palm of your hand. he lets his hand linger in yours for a little too long, something that you’ve come to understand is his way of comforting you in the aftermath, as you give him a nod in response. 

“he’ll be mad if you keep them. might even yell at you.” he murmurs. 

“well, i’ll cross that bridge when i get there.” 

--

you cross that bridge four days later. there’s only so many places to hide things in the apartment. your original thought – that hiding them in the kitchen because satoru can’t cook – doesn’t fare well when he decides to come poking for scissors. 

“y/n.” 

“hm?” 

satoru’s suddenly materialized at your side, enough for you to abandon the pie crust you’re failing to mold, with his eyes narrowed at you. 

“what are these?” he asks. 

he holds up the sunglasses in the space between the two of you as you feel the embarrassed warmth run to your cheeks, and slightly take a step back. 

“your sunglasses.” you murmur. 

“i can see that. my question is what are they still doing here?” he seethes. 

you shrug. 

“i just thought you might want to keep them. i was holding on to them for you.” 

satoru glares at you. 

“you know, when i make the effort of walking all the way out to throw something in the dumpster, i’m fairly certain i don’t want them anymore. they were where they belonged.” 

“i know, i know, i just thought…” 

satoru heaves an exasperated sigh. 

“thought what? that i’d need to use them again? i won’t fucking need to, because i can see just fine without them.” 

you bite down on your lip. and he makes no signs of relenting. 

“okay, but..” 

“what part of this is so hard for you to understand? i don’t need your fucking help or for you to hold on to shit for me because you think i’ll regret it later. i won’t. i’m just fine without you trying to walk around, waiting hand and foot on me, because you think i’m defective.” 

you frown, reaching forward to cup the side of his face. the mere gesture makes him flinch, enough for him to put distance between the two of you this time, and it makes your heart sink immeasurably. 

“i don’t think you’re defective. you’re still the same and i…i��m just trying to be there for you in whatever way i can.” 

“then why do you look at me like that?” he whispers. 

“like what?” 

“everytime, i walk into a wall by accident or brush against the table, you wince. you wince because i can’t find my fucking bearings with every stupid thing you’ve put in this apartment, and it drives me fucking insane because i don’t even want to look at you anymore. i understand it’s difficult, that you loved me the way that i was, but i’m just not the fucking same and i can’t do anything about it. you don’t have to make me these dumbass pies or cakes or whatever the fuck you’re trying to do everyday to celebrate my progress or whatever. i don’t care for any of it, so just give it a rest.” 

you frown, dropping your hands to your side, as you dust away the last of the spare flour that’s melded into your hands. you can tell that he’s watching you, maybe a little too keenly, as you untie the apron around your neck and set it on the counter. 

“you’re right, you know.” you mumble. 

“what?” 

“i loved you the way that you were.” 

satoru frowns. 

“the person i loved never raised his voice at me like that.” you whisper. 

you reach forward, for the sunglasses discarded on the counter, and look down at the crack. it’s gotten noticeably bigger, probably from how satoru was shaking it around in the air a few seconds prior, before you look back up at him. 

“the person i loved dragged these sunglasses out of his collection because they’re the exact ones he was wearing when i married him. he’d put them on and tell me that he was seeing me again for the first time, even though that wasn’t really true. and deep down, he probably knew that i thought it was a little cheesy, stupid even, but did it anyway because it made me laugh.” 

you shake your head. 

“he’d never throw these away. i’m sorry that i’m not…not as broken up that you’ve lost your six eyes or your limitless and i don’t know how to help you. i’m sorry i want to bake things and celebrate or whatever…but i almost lost you. i watched shoko sew you back together for hours, sat there for days when you didn’t wake up, and i was…just thankful that i got to see you again. in whatever state that you were. i’m sorry that it’s something that i thought warranted celebration, that the mere fact that you have the opportunity to struggle instead of be…be six feet under the ground…is something that i delight in.” 

you sigh, before setting them back down on the counter, the warm tears bubbling in your eyes. 

“but, please. by all means, throw them away. suppose they mean nothing to you when they’re not attached to the six eyes, anyways.” 

and on that note, you turn on your heel and leave. 

--

when you return home after three hours, there’s an almost pungent smell in the kitchen, so strong that it makes your nose water. you’re almost positive that in your absence the two of them made some horrible attempt at fixing themselves food, and you make a mental note to rectify their mess later. 

you make your way over to the balcony doors to clear the air, except for the fact that the sliding door is already open, that satoru’s sitting criss crossed on the floor with megumi at his side, looking at the view of the city below. 

you lightly wrap your knuckles against the door, the two of them turning their heads ever so slightly, as you lightly step out into the cold air. you crouch down, placing a hand on megumi’s shoulder and squeezing hard. 

“mind if i talk to gojo alone?” you ask. 

he gives you a polite smile, returning your gesture by placing his hand on your shoulder, and giving you a nod. the two of you switch spots, as you criss cross into the warmth megumi’s left behind, and hike your legs to your chest. 

“so, i just wanted to say that…” you start. 

satoru wordlessly slides two boxes in front of you. they’re dark black, a sparkling silver logo embossed into the material, tied together with a white ribbon. you shoot him a glare, before picking up the first box.

it makes you nervous, testing the waters with a joke when they were so tense when you left, but you do it anyways. 

“are you trying to bribe me, satoru gojo?” you ask. 

satoru gives you a smile. you note that it’s been extremely long since you’ve seen one. 

“would that work, princess?” 

“well, i didn’t marry you for your looks, pumpkin.” you joke, reaching forward to pinch his cheeks. 

satoru fakes hurt, dramatically pressing his hand to his chest, as you pull the ribbon off the box. the sunglasses, glistening in perfect shape and sans cracks, are sitting in the box. 

“oh, satoru. you didn’t have to…” 

“yes, i did. they’re my wife glasses.” 

you smile, reaching into the box and pulling the glasses out, and lightly pulling them around satoru’s ears. satoru shakes your hands off, only because you’ve horribly aimed for his ears, and readjusts them before leaning closer. 

“oh my goodness.” he murmurs. 

“what?” you whisper. 

satoru lifts his hands and places them on your cheeks, the touch warm, as he rubs circles into your cheeks. 

“my wife is so pretty.” 

you can’t help but grin, the warmth rushing to your cheeks. 

“is that right?” 

“so so pretty. and kind, and patient, and too good for me to begin with.” he responds. 

you shake your head. 

“not true. you…” 

“very true.” he insists. 

satoru drops his hands, fingers fast as he sets the sunglasses back in the open box, before interlocking his fingers in with yours. he’s looking down at your skin, tracing the callouses left behind on your palms. 

“you know the worst part of losing the six eyes?” he whispers. 

you shake your head. 

“i could feel your cursed energy all the time. and now i can’t.” 

he’s never told you that before. 

“really? was my cursed energy hot?” 

satoru rolls his eyes at you, an unmistakable smile on his face.

“unbelievable.” 

he’s quiet again, fingers outlining one of the red gashes leftover from months prior in your skin. 

“it was comforting. knowing you were around, all the time. that you were moving from the kitchen, or coming up the stairs, or…or sleeping. i’d reach for it sometimes, straining to feel it when you were far away in another classroom or something, whenever someone pissed me off. something to just calm me down.”  

you smile. 

“i’m still around. you might not be able to feel me…that way…but i’m still right here. all the time.” 

satoru winces. 

“kind of embarrassing, isn’t it?” he murmurs. 

“what?” 

“i’m sitting over here, reeling in the fact that i’ve lost…lost what you feel like to me, when you’re the one who actually had to live that.” he whispers. 

you flip his hand over in yours, mimicking his motions by tracing circles into his hand instead. 

“it was no big deal.” you joke. 

satoru narrows his eyes at you. 

“you thought i was dead, didn’t you?” he asks. 

you nod. 

“i didn’t just think it, satoru. you were dead. for a whole three hours, you were…no heartbeat. skin cold. the whole ten miles of…of dead people. i was sitting there thinking about how i was twenty-five years old and already a widow.” you respond. 

satoru sighs. 

“i’m still around too. and…still me in the ways that matter to you. you don’t need to follow me around like you’re worried i’m going to break. hell, i’m surely not as strong as i was before, but i’ve…i will put in efforts to safeguard myself so you won’t have to…cut your losses again.” 

you smile. 

“that would be appreciated, you know that?” 

satoru gives you a wink, before lifting your fingers to press a kiss against your knuckles. 

“it’s a deal, princess.” 

“also…i hope you know i regretted what i said earlier. right after i said it. i’d love you in any iteration. two eyes, six eyes, eleven.” 

satoru smiles, before closing the distance to press three featherlike kisses to your cheek. he retreats to slide the second box over to you, the one you left unopened, and places it in the palm of your hands. you slide the ribbon off just the same, pulling off the lid, to find what might possibly be the most unflattering glasses you’ve ever seen. 

bright green, hexagon shaped, and comically small. 

“well, that’s a choice.” you mumble. 

“if your memory’s failing you, these are the sunglasses you picked out for me on our third or fourth date. pretty sure you were half joking, but…but it felt right to buy them now. rebuild my collection.” 

“how much were they?” 

satoru pinches his lips together in a line. 

“well, i’d prefer to save myself from another lecture today, if that’s okay with you. ask me again tomorrow, princess.”

--

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