#i just want to hug him and never let go is that too much to ask

[softestqueeen]

prompt: "Oh? Does that turn you on?" a/n: sub!spencer lives in my head rent free. i hope you like it, enjoy <3 so, this is a repost beacause the original post got literally 0 notes and i want to see if tumblr is the issue or if it was really my writing 😭 original post + request warings:18+ MDNI!!, smut, pet names, hand job, dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink pairing: sub!spencer reid x dom!reader I 979 words special prompts I special masterlist

You were standing in the kitchen of your boyfriends flat. Spencer Reid could do a lot of things and knew how to do even more things, but the one thing he never quite mastered, was cooking.

By no means were you a good chef, but you knew you way around a kitchen and could whip up a few meals. Which is why you were currently in Spencers kitchen, showing him how to do a simple lasagna.

"And that's how you do the layers. The key is to stay consistent and make the layers even. Now you go ahead and try, Spence."

Your boyfriend didn't enjoy the cooking as much as the close proximity while you were showing him how to do all the steps, guiding his hands or just hugging him from the side while watching something cook.

Watching Spencer cook away made pride swell in your chest. This wasn't your first cooking lesson and it was definetely a dramatic improvement from your first one, where you had a quick bathroom back and once you returned he managed to completely burn the pasta sauce. He looked like a kicked puppy while you threw the sauce away.

But since then he had gotten significantly better, even surprising you with a home cooked meal on your anniversery.

Once Spencer successfully laid out the next layer of the long pasta and sauce, you couldn't help but smile.

"You did such a good job, you're getting better and better," you knew your boyfriend loved it when you praised him, so you decided to tease him a little bit with it ,"you're such a good boy, Spencer."

That made him stop. Spencer was glad that he wasn't facing you right now, but rather was standing at the counter with you standing behind him to his right, now looking at his face. You immediately saw his blush, but Spencer was glad you couldn't see the boner he was now sporting after hearing his words.

He knew you were teasing him in a way, though you were still earnest. Still, he couldn't keep his body from reacting, the words planting a seed inside of his mind in a place he hadn't dared to discover yet.

You could see immediately what had happened, how your words affected Spencer. A slow smile spread over your face and you stepped closer to him, your lips now directly next to his ear.

"Oh, does that turn you on? I didn't know you liked being called that, though you were always my good boy." Now you were being a bit mean, but you knew that Spencer would tap out if it got too much.

At you calling him a good boy again, Spencers breath hitched. He wasn't surprised that you almost immediately caught on to his feelings.

You reached around his hip, palming his length through his trousers, making Spencer moan. Starting to pepper kisses over his neck, while Spencer leaned against you, just teasing him for now.

"You like that, baby? Me calling you a good boy?" He could hear you so clearly with your mouth directlly to his ear and his cock twitched in reaction to your filthy words.

It took him a moment to register that you asked him a question, but once he did he nodded, putting more of his weight against you.

"Words, baby, I need words. Be a good boy for me or I'll stop."

"Y- Yes, I- uhm, do like it when you call me that. Please, please I need you."

You could feel him throbbing though his trousers, deciding to have some mercy. Slowly undoing his belt and popping open the button of his jeans. Reaching inside you pull out his length, the tip glistening with precum as Spencer let out a relieved sigh.

Taking him in your hand you slowly start to move up and down, spreading the precum on his length. His pretty moans and whines only spurred you on further, not yet increasing your speed, but the grip you had on him, making him gasp.

You knew this was a new situation for the both of you, the dynamic itself already familiar. You decided to test out the waters, Spencer now being able to think clear enough incase he felt uncomfortable with anything.

"Such a good boy for mommy, huh? You like my hand wrapped arounf you?" Spencer moaned at your filthy words, his cock twitching imaptiently in your hand.

"Yes mommy, please more." Jackpot.

You went faster over his length, your free hand wandering to his front as well, slipping under his t-shirt and sprawling out over his stomach, making his muscles contract.

"You're doing so well for me, baby. I can feel you're getting closer."

"Please, mommy, make me cum. I want to be good for you." His breathing was getting more irregular and you could feel him being impossibly close to his high.

"Don't worry baby, yo're already such a good boy for me. Cum for me, cum for mommy."

Your words finally tipped him over the edge, his cum spurting all over his stomach and your hand. You continued to stroke him, your movements slowing down while he calmed down as well.

You peppered kisses onto evey free patch of skin you could reach at the moment and retracted your hand, taking a paper towel to clean you both up. After washing your hands and cleaning up the evidence of your short lived passion, you were ready to get things done.

"Well I'd say you finish the lasagna and then we'll contine. What do you say, Spence?"

With those words you left a stunned and sputtering Spencer behind. He turned around, looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes. But once you gave him a pointed look, he immediately went back to the lasagna. 

You were sure you've never seen someone layer anything that fast.

the requests for this event are OPEN until sunday (16/02)! here are the prompts!

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open! (now also for the x files)

taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa @mmmmokdok

[arcadia-smith]

Unrequited love. (I will always think that this is something that breaks hearts painfully slow)

Simon Riley x Reader.

You’ve always known that loving Simon Riley was a dangerous thing. Not because of the nightmares that clawed at his mind or the ghosts that followed him like a shadow. No, it was dangerous because he never saw you the way you saw him.

And maybe that was your fault. Maybe you should have walked away before the feelings sank in too deep, before your heart curled around him like ivy, clinging even when it hurt.

But you never did.

Not when he smiled at you, a rare thing that made your chest ache. Not when he held you close after missions, his breathing unsteady, as if he needed to remind himself that you were still there. And certainly not when he whispered your name like a prayer in the quiet hours of the night.

It was easy to believe you meant something to him.

Until her.

She was everything you weren’t. Soft laughter and bright eyes, warmth in the way she touched him, an ease in how she held his attention. And he looked at her the way you had spent years looking at him.

You remember the exact moment you knew.

It wasn’t when he first mentioned her name, or even when he started spending more time away. It was when he showed up at your door, eyes shining in a way you’d never seen before.

“She said yes,” he breathed, almost disbelieving.

And you smiled.

God, you smiled so wide it hurt, because that’s what friends do. They don’t break apart in front of the people they love. They don’t let the cracks show.

So you pulled him into a hug, let him crush you in his arms as he whispered about how happy he was. You buried your face into his shoulder, blinking back the sting in your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Because he never looked at you like that.

And he never would.

—

You don’t go to the wedding.

You have an invitation, of course. It sits untouched on your counter, the elegant lettering spelling out his name alongside hers, mocking you every time you pass it.

Soap calls. Gaz texts. They ask if you’re coming, if you’re okay, if you need anything. You lie through your teeth, tell them you’re sick, that you’re busy, that you don’t want to intrude.

Simon doesn’t call.

You don’t think he notices your absence until much later.

Maybe it’s when the party winds down, when he’s alone for the first time in hours, when the realization creeps in like a whisper.

Maybe it’s when he looks around the reception, searching for you without even realizing he’s doing it. When he catches Soap's somber expression, the way Gaz avoids his gaze.

Maybe it’s not until years later, when the honeymoon phase fades and real life settles in. When he finds himself thinking of you in quiet moments, wondering why you aren’t around as much anymore, why it feels like something is missing.

You relocate. A different base. A different team.

You relocate to spare yourself.

—

Years Later

The news reaches him too late.

Simon is sitting in the common hall, watching the rain streak down the window, when his phone buzzes. He answers out of habit, not expecting much.

Soap's voice is quiet. Too quiet.

He barely hears the words over the rushing in his ears.

A mission gone wrong. Too much blood lost before help arrived. You were alone, left behind by your new team.

Gone.

The funeral is small. Simple. He doesn’t speak. Just stands at the back, hands clenched into fists, watching as they lower the casket into the ground.

Soap stands beside him, but no one else does. Not her. Not his wife. She hadn’t asked where he was going, and he hadn’t told her.

Because how could he explain it? How could he explain the way his ribs felt like they were caving in, the way his lungs burned with every breath? How could he explain that this loss felt different than any other?

He doesn’t cry.

He doesn’t say goodbye.

He just stands there, watching as they cover you with dirt, as the last piece of you disappears from his sight.

And for the first time, he wonders if maybe—just maybe—he loved you all along.

But now, he’ll never get the chance to tell you.

And that is the worst part of all.

—

Months Later

It happens on a quiet night.

Simon is going through old boxes in the closet, looking for something long forgotten. His wife is asleep in the next room, unaware.

He’s sifting through old mission reports, books, scraps of things that don’t matter—until he finds it.

A letter.

His name is scrawled across the front in your handwriting, the ink slightly smudged, like you hesitated before writing it.

He shouldn’t open it. He knows that.

But he does anyway.

His hands shake as he unfolds the paper. The words blur in front of his eyes, but he forces himself to focus.

Sim,

I don’t know if I’ll ever send this. Maybe it’s just for me. But if you’re reading it, then I guess I wasn’t brave enough to say it out loud.

I loved you. I loved you in all the ways a person could love someone. And I never told you because I knew—God, I knew you didn’t feel the same. And that’s okay. I never expected you to.

I just wanted you to know.

I hope she makes you happy. I hope she gives you the kind of love I always wished I could.

And I hope, someday, I stop wishing things had been different.

—Y/N

The paper crumples in his grip.

His chest is too tight, his throat burning as he squeezes his eyes shut.

Because fuck.

He should have known.

Should have seen it.

But it’s too late.

It’s too late, and you’re gone, and all he has left is the ghost of what could have been.

And maybe that’s the cruelest part of all.

[tsukii0002]

I liked your mc calling the brothers their husband post. Would you do something similar with the undatables? Absolutely fine if not!

Hello!!, Thank you for you message 🥺. Apart from the dateable ones I include the non dateable ones because they deserve it. This time the situations are longer and more elavorate, a little bit of love for the side characters. Although it took me a little while, I hope you enjoy it.

Part of the brothers

Warning: I wasn't sure how to write these situations so the formatting may be a bit messy, and in this case Mc is the same person as the reader.

Diavolo

Diavolo had to go to the human world to close some deals with the Corvo company and you decided to accompany him. But it was a matter of minutes before people approached him to ask if he was a star or a celebrity. Following his friendly nature, he talked to everyone and even took pictures, a small group of people approached you, seeing that you knew him.

Woman: How handsome, is he a model?

Man: Who is he?

Mc: He is my husband *smile* and he is not a model.

Diavolo didn't dissimulate, he didn't wait, he turned quickly and walked briskly beside you. His eyes were shining, crystalline, he didn't know what to do, that was unknown ground for him. He was trying to tell you a hundred things so fast that you didn't understand him. You took him by the arm and pulled him away from the crowd. Despite his excitement, he put his hand on yours with extreme gentleness, as if he was afraid that his touch would make you suddenly disappear.

Mc: Did I say something I shouldn't have?

Diavolo: What? No, no, you haven't said anything you shouldn't….

He looked away totally blushing.

Diavolo: Are you sure… that despite of everything, of who I am… you would want me as your husband?

Mc: *moved* I couldn't think of anyone else Dia.

Diavolo: *shining like the sun* I couldn't be anyone else but you either, spouse.

Barbatos

You had agreed to help Barbatos tidy up a room full of relics, the demon was very grateful to you.

Little D: It's very sweet of you to help Mr. Barbatos.

Mc: Well, it's only natural to help my husband.

The little demons put their little hands to their mouths while laughing excitedly. You laughed too, but you stopped when you felt a whisper in your ear, when you turned around there was Barbatos, with a kind smile and his cheeks a little colored, he was looking at you with immense affection. He put his hand to his chin and began to watch you curiously, now you were the nervous one. The Little d's laughed mischievously.

Barbatos: It is, without a doubt, the greatest treasure I could find in this room.

Mc: Th- the what?

Barbatos: Ju, ju, the time I spend with you, my spouse.

Barbatos held you by the waist and hand, as if to dance, you grabbed his shoulder and let him guide you around the room. He hugged you as he caressed your face with his cheek. It was hard to read, but his eyes exuded an endearment rare to see in him.

Barbatos: I never considered having a spouse before.

Mc: *laughing* No?

Barbatos: No, but now that I've found myself having the best spouse in the three realms, I've realized how much I wanted to have them.

Mc: Damn *totally blushing*

Little D's: Kyaaa!!!

Solomon

Solomon had gotten into an argument with a demon, the sorcerer seemed to be having fun, but you knew you had to stop him from getting into more serious trouble (with Barbatos). The demon was throwing in his face certain problems with his artifacts and conflicts of the past while your master just laughed, you jumped in the middle without hesitating, the demon looked at you.

Mc: Stop it, you are not going to achieve anything arguing with him….

Demon: Do you even know who this shameless guy is?

Mc: Of course I do, he is MY husband.

The scene was hilarious, Solomon with his hands up grabbed by the collar of his shirt by a demon, the chaos stopped, the second one looked with a face of disbelief and the first one at first had his usual smile, but then he suddenly turned red and seemed to emanate heat. He began to gesticulate, the demon let go and the crowd dissipated. Solomon stood looking at you, very still, his face had no trace of his usual amused expression, he looked unusually shy.

Solomon: *taking his hand* Really… would you want a husband like me?

Mc: *squeezing his hand* I can't think of a better one.

Solomon laughed, that cute laugh, shy he was also charming.

Solomon: The two most powerful wizards in history, as husband and spouse��� no one will stop us Mc.

Simeon

You and Simeon were going to run some errands in Devildom, you used to go together, because you were not intimidated to go out alone and Simeon felt better if he accompanied you. Some demons still had problems with the angels, (you are already mimicked), and some were not afraid to approach to provoke.

Demon: Oh? Who could this little angel be?

Mc: My husband.

Simeon dropped all the fruits as he looked at you, surprised, very surprised. The angel then started looking around and picking up the fruit with a nervous smile. With a look from you the demon left, embarrassed. You crouched down beside Simeon and could see that he was avoiding your gaze with a rosy face. You both stood up and laughed, though Simeon still avoided your gaze. You set off again and after a while Simeon spoke.

Simeon: I thought it was just me… *brings his hands to his face* I thought I was the only one who wanted to be your husband.

Mc: Well *acting surprised*, I'm pretty sure I've had an angel husband for a while.

Simeon: If so, *grinning nervously again* then I've had a human spouse for a long time.

The angel carries all the bags in one hand and holds out the other to you. Determined, you take it.

Raphael

Raphael had convinced you to go to a knitting club in the human world (how ????), the grannies loved it and when they saw you enter they began to whisper excitedly. You sat down in the ladies' circle next to Raphael and started knitting (or trying to), as conversation began to arise. One of the ladies asked you kindly.

Granny: Tell me, my child, what is your relationship with Raphael?

Mc: Raphael is my husband

Raphael blinked, then looked up with a look of confusion and looked at you even more confused, cocking his head like a puppy. The ladies began to whisper even more excitedly. Raphael looked around as his colors rose, pulled his chair closer to yours and looked you in the eye. The grannies left you alone.

Raphael: You…. *pause for reflection* are you serious?

You didn't really know what he meant, but you nodded, he seemed to reflect, with that serious face of his. The angel was an indecipherable person most of the time, it was part of his charm.

Raphael: I… I promise to be a good husband, I will always take care of you and I will make sure that…

Mc: *being cautious* What?

Raphael: *smiling* That my spouse will always be happy.

Mephistopeles

Mephisto had invited you to a party at his family mansion, despite denying it he tried to be by your side the whole time, trying not to leave you alone, but being the host it was too complicated. He talked to all kinds of demons while you watched him, you could see how he constantly looked in your direction in a hurry. Several of the guests approached you.

Demon: Why are you here *smugly and* how would you know Mr. Mephistopheles?

Mc: He *looking him up and down* is my husband.

Mephisto's face was a picture, he had heard it. It didn't take him two seconds to approach you, striding towards you, totally flushed.

Demon: Are you serious? That's impossible.

Mephisto: *raising his voice* I am their husband! And they are my spouse!

You remained silent, he had embraced you in a protective way, interposing himself between you and the demons, it was your turn to blush, the guests left. Mephisto held out his arm to you, you took it, he was looking straight ahead with a pout on his face totally blushing, but he put his other hand on yours, firm. I didn't know what else to say, you laughed.

Mc: I won't be a problem, husband?

Mephhisto: Don't separate from me, there is no problem… *almost stuttering* spouse.

Thirteen

You had promised to take Thirteen to a punk band concert upon the recommendation of some class friends (because yes, you had a social life in hell outside of the brothers and the others). Thirteen was trying to make every possible plan with you, and seeing her face colored with excitement or thrill was totally worth it. There you recognized a friend.

Dyed hair demon: Mc! How nice to see you, who is your friend?

Mc: Oh, this is my wife.

Your friend's face colored, Thirteen seemed to have stopped working as her eyes opened wider and wider, while her face blushed more and more, but then she let out a big laugh and hugged you tightly, giving you kisses and kisses all over your face, leaving her lipstick marked. Without taking her eyes off you and with the sweetest smile in the world she laughed again.

Mc: It's our special night, just for the two of us.

You circled her waist, then she took off one of the earrings hanging from her ears and put it on your finger, to then link her hand with yours.

Thirteen: *with very flushed cheeks and a mischievous smile* I love making these plans with you, spouse.

.

.

Thanks for reading🌸

.

.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Over and Over Again

Remus Lupin x Muggle!Reader

Summary: The legend of soulmates and the myth of endless lives tied to one another permanently was once a myth you don't believe. Until you met Remus Lupin.

WC: 4k

CW: Angst no comfort- The reader and Remus's depiction crosses gender and species lines. Hogwarts Legacy reference. Animal death and blood- so much death-

The pub smelled of stale beer and cigarette smoke, the kind of scent that lingered in the wood and clung to the air, no matter how many windows were cracked open. The low hum of music played from an old jukebox in the corner, the neon glow of its lights flickering with age.

It was familiar, comforting in a way that only a Muggle pub on a Friday night could be.

You spun your drink in your hands, watching the ice swirl lazily in your glass as Lily Evans leaned against the table beside you. She looked radiant as always, her fiery red hair gleaming under the dim lights.

“I swear,” She promised for the fifth time. “You're going to love them. Just… be nice to Peter, and for the love of Merlin, don’t ask Sirius about his family.”

You frowned. “For the love of Merlin?”

Lily’s lip twitched.. “Ah- Just… an expression. The boys use it a lot.”

You raised an eyebrow but let it go. Lily had always been a little odd, but she was your odd, your best friend since childhood.

She had been gone for the last few years, tucked away in that mysterious boarding school she never let you visit. Every time she came back to visit, she seemed… different. Like she was carrying secrets she could never fully explain.

Tonight was the first time she was introducing you to her boyfriend- James- and his friends. You had spent years watching her fall out of the abusive cycle of friendship she harbored with Severus Snape- you almost felt bad for him. If only he'd grown up too.

You had, in equal turn, been berated with letters about the slimeball that was James Potter. Just to see her ink blots lighten and her words becoming more fond when it came to his name- you were excited to meet him.

You took another sip of your drink, then looked up as the door to the pub swung open.

A burst of laughter and energy filled the pub as a group of four young men stepped inside, shaking off the damp chill of the London evening.

You saw James first, instantly recognizing him from the photos Lily had shown you. He was all messy hair and glasses, grinning like he owned the world- but the way his gaze immediately sought out Lily made your heart warm.

Then there was Sirius Black, effortlessly handsome, carrying himself with the swagger of someone who knew he could have anyone he wanted, but still acted like he was above it all. His dark leather jacket and roguish smirk screamed trouble.

Beside him was Peter Pettigrew, shorter than the rest, with darting eyes and an almost nervous energy, like he was waiting for something to go wrong.

And then there was the fourth boy- no- man.

The second your eyes landed on him, it was like the entire world narrowed.

Remus Lupin.

He was quieter than the others, his posture a little more reserved. He wasn’t as flashy as James or Sirius but something was still there.

Something in the way he held himself- not quite shying away, but not fully stepping into the spotlight either. His soft sandy blonde hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his hands through it too many times. His face was lean, cheekbones sharp beneath tanned skin, marred by faint scars that ran across his features. But it was his eyes that caught you.

Warm, golden-brown, and filled with something ancient, something tired, something achingly familiar. Your stomach flipped.

Lily’s voice jolted you from whatever spell had momentarily trapped you.

“Come on,” She squeaked, tugging you forward with a grin. “Let me introduce you.”

Your legs felt unsteady as you followed her through the crowded pub, weaving between groups of laughing strangers. The boys turned as you approached, James immediately scooping Lily into a hug and pressing a kiss to her temple. You barely registered it.

Your focus was on Remus, who was watching you with the strangest look you'd ever seen.

Somewhere between horror and intrigue.

Lily cleared her throat, oblivious to the strange, charged silence between you and Remus.

“Alright, boys,” she said, grinning. “This is her.”

James turned away from Lily just long enough to flash you a charming, lopsided smile. “The infamous childhood best friend!” He declared. “Blimey, I was starting to think you were just a legend.”

You let out a short laugh. “Well, I assure you, I’m very real.”

Sirius tilted his head, appraising you. “We’ll see about that,” he mused, then smirked. “The real question is- are you cool enough to be seen with us?”

“Oh, definitely not,” You deadpanned. “I’m a disgrace to all things cool.”

James barked out a laugh. “I like her!”

Lily rolled her eyes but was smiling.

Meanwhile, Remus hadn’t moved.

He was still looking at you, his expression unreadable. His eyes- those deep, golden eyes- seemed locked onto you, as if he was trying to piece something together, trying to solve something that had no answer.

You met his gaze.

“Remus.” He whispered and you muttered your own name back to him without a second thought. And he smiled, lifted his hand-

The moment your fingers brushed as you shook his hand- it happened.

A bolt of pure, electric familiarity shot through your body, rattling every bone in your frame. The pub melted away, the noise, the people, the dim glow of the jukebox- everything faded into a swirl of golden light and rushing wind.

The world around you vanished. The dim pub, the chatter, the clinking of glasses- all of it was swallowed by the sudden rush of something else. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the rustling of leaves, the whisper of wind through tall golden grass. The scent of fresh earth, sun-warmed fields, and damp fur filled your senses.

And then, you were there…

You were small, swift, your body light as you darted between the tall stalks of wheat. A fox, red-furred and wild, your sharp nose twitching as you ran through the fields.

And behind you, paws pounding against the earth, was him.

A hound.

Lanky, golden-furred, and young, still growing into his paws. His ears flopped when he ran, tongue lolling as he chased after you, barking playfully.

He was supposed to hunt you. But instead, he chased you.

Every day, when his master wasn’t looking, he sneaked away from the farmhouse, bounding over the hills to find you. Together, you would race through the fields, rolling in the wildflowers, playing until the sun dipped below the trees.

Free, weightless. Soft fur against rough wheat and playfully snapping jaws. Then- Pain. Sharp, sudden pain.

A snapping sound- cold metal clamping down around your hind leg. A trap.

You yelped, twisting, trying to free yourself, but it was tight, unrelenting. The more you pulled, the more it bit into your flesh, blood staining the grass beneath you.

And he- your hound- panicked.

He barked wildly, circling you, nudging you with his nose. He tried to paw at the trap, but he was just a dog- he couldn’t undo his master’s cruel work.

You whimpered, eyes wide, pleading. He threw his head back and howled, loud and desperate, as if somehow, that would bring help.

And help did come. But not the kind he wanted. The farmer arrived. Gun in hand.

The hound whimpered, barking frantically, placing himself between you and his master. But he was a dog. And a dog’s loyalty belonged to its owner. Even when his heart was breaking.

The farmer raised his rifle.

A deafening bang-

Darkness.

The darkness faded, but you didn’t wake up in the pub.

Instead, you were staring at your own reflection in a gilded mirror.

A face- not quite your own, but one you knew belonged to you.

Your hair was woven into delicate braids, strands of pearls threaded through like drops of moonlight. A soft silk gown pooled around you, its fabric cool against your skin. The weight of a crown sat heavy atop your head, a reminder of your fate- one you had never chosen, one you had never wanted.

And behind you- fingers grazing your bare shoulder as they fastened a necklace-

Was her.

Your Lupin.

But not as you knew him.

A woman, dressed in modest, elegant gowns, a lady-in-waiting, her golden-brown eyes lowered in the practiced deference of a servant.

But she was not just a servant.

She was your dearest friend. She was your first love.

She was the one who walked with you through moonlit gardens, whispering stories of ancient myths. The one who pressed flowers into the pages of your books, so that when you opened them, they smelled like spring.

She was the one you could never have.

Not in the way you wanted. Not in the way that made your chest ache, that made your fingers tremble when they brushed against hers, that made your heart scream for a different fate.

Not in the way that had offended your betrothed.

Not in the way that would get you both killed.

You turned in your chair, reaching for her.

Her fingers lingered at the nape of your neck, hesitant, uncertain, as if she wanted to stay there forever- but knew she could not.

She met your gaze in the mirror when you looked back.

Golden-brown eyes, filled with longing and sorrow.

She knew, too.

She had always known.

You swallowed against the lump rising in your throat. The distant sound of shouting, the clang of metal, the burning of the city below- it was getting louder.

“…Do you ever wish we could leave?” You whispered.

Her breath caught. A hesitation.

“…Every day,” She admitted. And your heart broke for her. For yourself.

For the life that could never be.

The chaos below grew closer- the sound of swords clashing, boots pounding up the castle steps. They were coming.

There was no time. No future. No way out.

Your fingers lifted, brushing against her cheek. Soft. Warm. Alive.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her lips parting slightly, her eyes flickering with fear, with need, with desperation-

And then you kissed her.

Not a soft thing. Not a hesitant thing.

But something urgent, something burning, something filled with the desperation of two lovers who knew they were out of time.

A kiss of fury, of grief, of love too big to be contained in a world too small for it.

She pulled you closer, her fingers digging into the silk of your gown, holding you, clutching you, clinging to you like she could tether herself to this moment, to you-

Then-

The doors burst open.

The room filled with shouting, with the gleam of blades, with the iron grip of soldiers as they stormed forward, tearing you apart.

You screamed, struggling against them, fighting, kicking, clawing, biting-

But your fate had already been sealed.

You saw her, your Lupin, your love, your heart, struggling, screaming your name, reaching for you-

And then- A soldier’s blade pierced your chest.

Cold. Sharp.

The world lurched, twisted- And then-

Darkness.

London was a city of smoke and gold. It was filth and grandeur, a place where the rich dined beneath glittering chandeliers while the poor shivered in the streets below.

And in the middle of it all- between the gas lamps and cobblestone alleys, between the choking smog and the perfume of wealth- you ran.

Your boots hit the pavement with a quiet rhythm, quick and light, barely making a sound as you weaved through the bustling crowds of Westminster Market. Your coat was patched and thin, your gloves fingerless, your stomach empty.

But that didn’t matter.

Because in your pocket, you now held a gold pocket watch.

Your lips curled in triumph. It was a beautiful thing- heavy, shining, the kind that belonged to someone important. Someone who wouldn’t even miss it.

Or so you thought.

Because just as you turned the corner into a shadowed alley, a hand closed around your wrist. Your breath caught.

Your instincts screamed at you to run, to fight, to flee-

But then you looked up. And your world shifted.

Him.

A man, tall and fine-boned, wrapped in an elegant dark coat. His hair was soft brown, windswept, his golden-hazel eyes piercing in the dim light. He was young, maybe only a few years older than you, but there was something about him that felt older- as if he had lived a hundred years before this moment.

And despite catching you red-handed, his expression wasn’t one of anger. No.

It was curiosity.

Amusement, even.

His grip loosened, just slightly. “You’re quick,” He panted, voice smooth as silk, his accent refined.

“Not quick enough, but still. Impressive.”

You swallowed, heart pounding against your ribs. “Let go of me.”

“You stole from me,” He pointed out.

You smirked. “You can afford it.”

He actually laughed at that, low and warm, before slowly prying his pocket watch from your fingers. But he didn’t let go of you. Instead, he tilted his head, studying you, like he was trying to place you. Like he had seen you before.

“…What’s your name?” He asked, softer now.

You hesitated. Giving your name was dangerous in your line of work. But something about him- something familiar, something achingly familiar- made you whisper it anyway. His lips parted slightly, his grip on your wrist faltering.

And then- he whispered his own name.

A strange, unspoken recognition passed between you.

Like a secret. Like a memory half-forgotten.

Weeks Passed.

And somehow, against all reason, you kept finding him.

Or perhaps, he kept finding you. He was wealthy, but he was not cruel. A scholar, an artist, a man who saw the world in soft strokes of poetry and charcoal sketches.

And despite your differences- a boy from the slums and a gentleman of high society- you kept returning to him. Perhaps because he never treated you like a criminal.

He treated you like something else entirely. Something important.

Something he was afraid of losing.

One night, beneath the glow of gas lamps, you let him trace the lines of your face with careful fingers.

“You keep looking at me like you know me,” you murmured. His lips parted, breath shallow.

“…Maybe I do.”

And then, before either of you could think- You kissed him. The world tilted, time stretched thin between you, and for a moment, it felt like something had finally fallen into place.

Like this had happened before.

Like it had happened a thousand times before.

But fate, cruel as always, was waiting. Because London was not kind to men like you. It was not kind to pickpockets caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was not kind to a street thief who had stolen more than just coins and watches- who had stolen the heart of a man who should never have looked his way.

You never saw it coming.

One moment, you were running through the streets, laughing, alive- and the next, the constables had you by the collar, dragging you through the mud.

You never had the chance to say goodbye.

They didn’t let him see you before the sentencing. But he was there when they dragged you to the gallows.

And as the noose was slipped around your throat, you searched the crowd- desperate, desperate to find him.

And you did.

His face was pale, his hands clenched into fists, his golden-brown eyes filled with helpless horror. You had seen that look before.

The executioner read your crimes. You kept your eyes on Remus.

And in that final moment- As the platform dropped beneath your feet- As the world fell away- As you left him behind.

You thought you heard him scream.

Then, darkness.

Then- you were back home, in Feldcroft. The sun setting outside the small cottage, casting warm, golden light across the wooden floors. The air smelled of burning wood and herbs, a familiar scent- one that had lingered in your childhood.

And you?

You were at the table, a book in hand, curled up in your favorite chair. The world was quiet. Peaceful. But then-

Hands suddenly gripped your shoulders.

You gasped, nearly dropping your book- only to be met with a familiar grin, a familiar laugh, full of mischief and warmth.

“Sebastian!” You scolded, playfully swatting at him. “You scared me half to death!”

He only grinned wider, stepping back before tossing something small into your hands. A shrivelfig.

“For you,” he said with a wink. “It’ll make you stronger, you know.”

Before you could reply, another hand snatched it away.

“Absolutely not,” Solomon Sallow’s stern voice cut through the air. Your uncle gave Sebastian a look of pure warning, his eyes sharp with disapproval. “She doesn’t need you sneaking around with magic. She needs rest. A shrivel Fig cannot reverse a curse.”

Sebastian scoffed, his jaw tightening. “She needs more than just rest, Uncle. If we’d just-”

Your heart clenched. You had heard this argument a hundred times before.

Sebastian’s obsession with finding a cure.

Solomon’s desperate attempts to keep him away from dark magic.

And you- caught in the middle, growing weaker by the day.

A sudden wave of pain shot through you. You winced, gripping the table, your breath hitching. Immediately, Sebastian was at your side, one hand on your shoulder, concern darkening his features.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, voice urgent. “Are you alright?”

Solomon tensed, his gaze hardening. “Do you see what I mean, boy?”

Sebastian’s eyes flashed with anger. “I wouldn’t-”. But Solomon was already dragging him toward the door.

“Enough,” He snapped. “Outside. Now.”

Sebastian gritted his teeth but followed. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving the house in silence.

You exhaled shakily, closing your eyes.

And then- A presence. Someone still here. You opened your eyes-

And met his.

Remus. From Sebastian’s letters.

He was watching you from across the room, hesitation written in every tense line of his body. He hadn’t followed them outside. He had stayed.

Slowly, he stepped forward, then knelt down beside your chair. His golden-brown eyes, warm and steady, studied you, searching for something.

He reached out- then hesitated.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re alright,” He said softly.

The words unraveled you.

No one ever said it. No one ever acknowledged the truth- that you were dying. That it was okay. That you could be seen in the smallest of moments and the shortest of times- without needing to be fixed.

Sebastian fought against it.

Solomon ignored it.

But he saw it.

And somehow, that made it real. You swallowed hard. “I’m not pretending.”

He gave you a look, one that said he didn’t believe you.

Then, without another word- he sat beside you. And that was all.

At first, he was just a friend.

Sebastian had introduced him- a quiet but sharp-witted student, someone with more patience than most.

Someone who- unlike Sebastian- believed that saving you meant more than just breaking every rule. And yet, despite his caution, he couldn’t seem to stay away.

He would sit with you during your worst days, reading aloud from books when you were too weak to lift them yourself.

He would walk with you through Feldcroft, letting you lean against him when the world became too much.

And when Sebastian grew more reckless, diving further into dark magic, forbidden spells, anything that might bring you back from the brink-

Remus fought to hold him back.

But it wasn’t enough. Sebastian went too far. The darkness took root.

And even when he destroyed Solomon, even when he sacrificed everything- It still wasn’t enough.

But for Remus, no. For Remus it was enough. To sit by you, by the fire. To listen to you talk in your final moments. Your uncle gone and your brother lost to his mind.

He reached out and placed a hand over yours. And when your fingers interlocked, he sighed. Staring at the fire, until your fingers loosened around his hand.

Until, darkness.

The Pub, 1978

The world slammed back into place. The scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke filled your lungs, the dim glow of the jukebox flickered in your peripheral vision. Laughter and conversation hummed around you. The wood beneath your fingers was real. Solid. Present.

But your body? Your mind? You had been somewhere else.

Across from you, Remus was shaking.

His breath came quick, his golden-brown eyes blown wide- not with confusion, but recognition. His hand still hovered where it had just brushed against yours, his fingers trembling like they had touched something far more than skin.

Something ancient.

Something inevitable.

You knew him.

Not just from this pub. Not just from this life. You knew him from a hundred lifetimes ago. From the fox and the hound. From the princess and her lady-in-waiting. From the thief and the gentleman. From Feldcroft. From every time you had found him- and every time you had lost him.

And now?

Now you were back.

His lips parted slightly, a breathless sound escaping, like he wanted to say something- like he didn’t know what he could possibly say.

You swallowed, heart pounding, the weight of a thousand lives pressing against your ribs.

“Remus,” You echoed again.

His fingers curled into a fist. His entire body tensed. And then, just as you saw him understand, just as his expression shifted, just as the words I remember nearly fell from his lips-

The door to the pub slammed open.

The moment shattered.

And then?

He did nothing.

Because what could he do?

What could you do?

Say it out loud? Confess to an impossible truth? Tell him that you had died in his arms over and over again?

That this time- this life- he had to stop it?

So you didn’t say anything.

You just sat there. Staring at each other.

Breathing.

And for now, that had to be enough.

Because in every life before, you had never feared the darkness. Just the loss.

~~~

The Great Hall buzzed with conversation. The sorting ceremony had ended, students were chatting excitedly, the feast had just begun. Plates were piled high, goblets filled with pumpkin juice.

Across the room, Teddy Lupin laughed, running a hand through his hair, which shifted colors between turquoise and soft brown as he spoke. His friends chuckled at something he said, shoulders bumping together, the easy comfort of a childhood spent side by side.

Then-

A hand brushed against his.

His laughter stilled.

The world tilted.

It was nothing.

A casual moment, an accidental touch. A transfer student- someone new, someone unfamiliar- reaching across the table to pass a plate of pastries.

But the second their fingers touched-

A jolt.

Something cold and distant- like the echo of a dream he couldn’t quite recall.

Teddy’s fingers twitched. His breath hitched. The transfer student blinked, eyes flickering to his face, lips parting slightly, as if they had felt it too- as if they knew.

Teddy swallowed. His heart pounded.

And then-

He pulled his hand away.

Just a little too fast. Just a little too tense.

His friends didn’t notice. The conversation continued around them. But the transfer student frowned, staring down at their hand for a moment too long, brows furrowing, like they had just remembered something they weren’t supposed to.

Teddy flexed his fingers beneath the table.

His mind whispered something.

Something about foxes and hounds.

Something about princesses and Ladies.

Something about picked pockets.

Something about darkened pubs and stolen moments.

Something about a name.

A name that felt like his and not his, all at once.

The world lurched- but just for a second.

And then?

The moment passed.

Teddy shook his head, forced a smile, and reached for his goblet like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t just felt the weight of every life before this one.

Like he hadn’t just remembered exactly what came next.

[zeroseuniverse]

SEVENTEEN Reaction: You Accidentally Insult Them in Your Sleep

Navigation

S.Coups

At first, he thinks he misheard you. But when you mutter, “Ugh, why is he always acting like a dad?”, he gasps dramatically. “EXCUSE ME?!” He’ll shake you awake, pouting. “I take care of you, and this is what I get?!” Even the next day, he’ll bring it up with a fake betrayal. “So, I’m too much of a dad, huh? Maybe I should stop buying you snacks.”

Jeonghan

This man is petty. You mumble, “Jeonghan is a menace… always scheming…” and he just smirks. “That’s right, and I’ll be even worse now.” The next morning, you find your blanket missing, your phone charger hidden, and Jeonghan sipping coffee like he’s done nothing wrong.

Joshua

When you mumble, “Joshua’s too nice… it’s suspicious,” he just blinks in confusion. “…Excuse me?” He spends the rest of the night lying awake, overthinking his entire personality. The next morning, he’s a little sassy. “So, being nice is a crime now? Guess I’ll start being evil.”

Jun

You murmur, “Jun is so weird… but like, in a cute way.” He hears the ‘cute’ part and ignores everything else. The next morning, he’s clinging to you. “So, you think I’m cute even in your sleep, huh? You love me, don’t you?” No matter how much you deny it, he’s using this against you forever.

Hoshi

You mumble, “Why is he obsessed with tigers… it’s kinda weird…” and Hoshi GASPSSSS. He shakes you awake immediately. “TAKE IT BACK. TAKE IT BACK RIGHT NOW.” He’s genuinely distraught. “How could you? You love my tigers!” He’ll spend the next day dramatically hugging his tiger plushies for comfort.

Wonwoo

You mumble, “Wonwoo’s voice puts me to sleep…” and he just nods in agreement. “That’s fair.” The next day, he casually brings it up. “So… my voice is boring?” He doesn’t seem offended, but you just know he’s going to bring this up for months.

Woozi

You mumble, “Woozi’s scary when he’s angry…” and his eye twitches. The next morning, he stares at you while sipping his coffee. “Scary, huh?” He doesn’t say anything else, but the threat is there. If you tease him, he’ll just say, “I guess I’m too scary to help you reach the top shelf.” “YOU can’t even reach the top shelf”

DK

You mumble, “Seokmin laughs too much…” and he GENUINELY looks hurt. “Too much???” He spends the rest of the night trying to laugh quieter, but the next morning, he pouts at you. “So you don’t like my happiness? I thought you loved my sunshine…” He’s being dramatic, but he wants you to say you love his laugh.

Mingyu

You grumble, “Mingyu is so clumsy… so big, yet so useless.” He gasps so loudly he almost wakes you up. The next day, he’s sulking. “I AM NOT USELESS.” But when he trips over his own feet again, he just sighs. “…Okay, maybe a little.”

Minghao

You murmur, “Minghao is too cool… it’s kinda unfair.” He smirks immediately. The next day, he’s extra confident, wearing sunglasses indoors. “I can’t help it,” he says smugly. “It’s just who I am.” He’s never letting you live this down.

Seungkwan

You mumble, “Seungkwan is too loud… my ears…” and he gasps in pure offense. “HOW DARE YOU.” The next morning, he refuses to speak to you. “I guess I should just be quiet forever.” He’s waiting for you to beg him to talk again.

Vernon

You mumble, “Vernon is so random… is he even real?” He just blinks. “Fair point.” The next day, he randomly looks at you and goes, “So, do I exist or nah?” You’re never getting a serious answer from him again.

Dino

You grumble, “Chan is still a baby…” and he sits up in PURE OFFENSE. “BABY???” The next morning, he’s working out aggressively. “I’ll show you baby muscles.” He’s flexing all day, trying to prove he’s a man.

[seokmn]

DAMN TRIP .ೃ࿔ ✈︎ *:･

pairing: junhui x fem!reader wc: 0.8k words warning: pet names, jun as girl dad (yes, its a warning for my delusional besties out there.)

“let me be over there again”

Junhui dropped his bags on the floor and wrapped his arms around your waist, tightening his grip as if he would never see you again. He let out a defeated sigh. “I can't believe I have to go… what if I tell my boss I got sick? I can tell him I have dengue fever, and he’ll let me stay at home!” You laughed at your husband's comment and shook your head while caressing his hair. “We don't live in a tropical or subtropical country, you can't have dengue fever.”

“You have no idea how good I can be at acting,” he smiled and hid his face in the crook of your neck. “I don't want to leave you and D/N by yourselves. Seven days is too much time away from you."

You placed your hands on his shoulder and pulled him away just enough to make him look at your face. You smiled in a comforting way and kissed his temple. “Junnie, we’ll be fine, and we’ll be always facetiming each other. These seven days will pass in a blink of an eye, okay?”

Junhui still looked upset, but he nodded and gave you a peck on your lips before looking in the direction of your daughter's room, “D/N? Dad is leaving soon, won't you give me a hug?”

In a matter of seconds, you saw your daughter running to him with a frown on her face, arms raised, and one of her hands holding a folded paper. “Daddy, don't go!”

Junhui picked her up and gave her a sweet kiss on her forehead. “I wish I could stay, but I have to go… It's only for seven days, though,” he tried to comfort her, but his heart was absolutely broken. Since you gave birth to your daughter, Junhui and D/N became inseparable. “And I'll facetime you every time to tell a story before you sleep. I promise you.”

He caressed her puffy cheeks as her frown was deepening. D/N used her free hand to rub her eye while giving him the folded paper that was on her other hand, Junhui smiled and looked at her with the kindest expression ever. “Is it for me? Can I open it now?” she nodded, and he shifted her in his arms so he would be able to open the folded paper with his two hands. Once he opened it, he saw a drawing of you, him, and the little girl with a bunch of hearts around the three of you. He couldn't help but tear up as he showed the drawing to you, making you a little bit emotional as well.

“Sweetie… That's so beautiful, I'll take this drawing with me all the time. Thank you for giving it to me,” he kissed her forehead once again and searched for something in his pocket. “I have something for you as well.”

Her eyes lit up in curiosity as he took out two bracelets out of his pocket and showed them to her. "I asked uncle Joshua to help me to make them for us, the pink and yellow one is yours, and the pink and blue one is mine. It has our initials, look!” The little girl grabbed the pink and yellow bracelet and took a look at it, seeing the stars and three letters, being them the initials of your names. She smiled widely, wrapped her little arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek.

“Daddy, I loved it!” Junhui chuckled and rubbed her back. “I'm glad you loved it. I hope to see you wearing it!” He turned his gaze to you. “Yours is on my side of the bed. It's pink and white, your favorite colors,” you smiled and wiped your tears away. “Gosh, you're acting like you’re leaving for a whole year,” you placed your arm around his waist, and Junhui took this opportunity to give you and your daughter a family hug.

“I love my girls so much,” he sighed before continuing. “I promise to come back quickly and bring you gifts.”

The three of you stayed like that for a while before you broke the hug. Junhui pampered his daughter with sweet kisses all over her face before putting her back on the ground, then he looked at you, gave you a sad, yet lovely smile, and pecked your lips. “I'll text you when I get to the airport, before the flight, after the flight, and when I get to the hotel,” you chuckled and nodded. “Have a safe trip, love. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he turned to your daughter and crouched down to be on her level. He booped her nose and smiled, “I love you as well, got it?”

“I love you too, daddy! Have a safe trip!”

Junhui sighed before standing up once again and grabbing his bags to leave. He looked at you and D/N and smiled before leaving the house, leaving you and your loved daughter alone for the next seven days with his heart broken in pieces, absolutely hating the thought of not having you around.

[ginnyw-potter]

Ginny Weasley should die.

Thank you for the prompt anon! 😊 I hope you like it.

Death's cup

"Ginny Weasley should die."

Harry looked up from his newspaper and thought about his wife upstairs. 50 years old. Not quite in her quidditch years anymore but not old enough to die of natural causes, or so Harry would think. He did not want to let her go.

He looked at death. He seemed familiar. "Ah. Interesting that you tell me this. I thought you wielded your scythe on your own time, sir."

He stood up from the table and Death was yet still taller than him by almost more than a head.

Death moved uneasily. His face was hardly visible under his hood. "I do, but you... are the Master of Death and I will not take your wife away unannounced."

"I don't have the Elder Wand. The Stone is lost to time. The cloak belongs to James."

Death nodded. "You do not lose the title until someone else brings the items together. James is a special one. He hides from Death just as well as his father. There were some close calls under that cloak."

Though the thought of his son dying prickled as much as thinking about Ginny dying did, he only nodded. "He has no clue what it used to be like."

"He grew up safe thanks to the efforts of the generation before him," Death said. "I need to go and start on my day. I will be back in a few moments."

And just like that, Death walked out of his back door and soared straight up into the sky.

Harry had not even moved from his spot when James appeared by the same back door and knocked before entering.

"Morning dad, here's the cloak like you asked." His son put the cloak down on the table. "Mum still asleep?"

He nodded, dumbfounded but didn't reveal that he had never asked for the cloak. "Sleeping in."

"Alright. I'll see you two for dinner, yeah?"

Harry nodded again, trying not to think of the horrible possibility of Ginny not making it to dinner. "Of course," he said around the lump in his throat.

His son walked to the door again but Harry stopped him. James turned around to look at him.

"With or without that cloak, you're not invincible. Don't forget that," Harry said.

James offered him a lop-sided smile. "Is this another lesson from you where you take the cloak away from me to prove something?"

"No. Just a reminder."

"Because I am getting married soon and then I want to give you some of those grandkid-things mum dreams about." James hugged him.

Harry hugged him back. "Don't tell her that or she'll bug you about it until you bring her one."

"Merlin," his son let out with a chuckle. "I know it. I thought Al was going to beat me to it, to be fair." James released him and stepped back.

"He might still," Harry mused out loud.

James nodded in agreement. "Alright, see you tonight, dad!"

Harry waved absent-mindedly, his fingers of his other hand already wrapping around the cloak.

As soon as James had disapparated, he walked upstairs and into the master bed room. Ginny was sleeping soundly.

He tried not to think too hard about losing her but his arms shook as he draped the cloak over her. She did not stir.

"I love you, Gin," he said just in case and then he walked back downstairs.

He had just poured himself another cup of coffee when Death descended the stairs and walked back into the kitchen.

"The oddest thing just happened," Death said with an air of innocence, holding a list. "It says Ginny Weasley, bedroom, but I could not find her."

"That is odd," he agreed, the knot around his heart loosening a little. "Coffee?"

"Oh. Yes, thank you."

Harry poured Death a cup and handed it to him.

The skeletal hand wrapped around the ear of the cup. Both of them leaned against the counter as Death took a sip. A bit of steam escaped from the ear holes in his hood as he drank.

He seemed to leisurely read the list to see what was ahead for the day.

"Sir Barkington?" Harry inquired as he couldn't help but glance at the list.

"Yes," Death said. "Elderly dog. One of my favourites. It's such a joy to see them escape their old body with their achey joints and bad eyesight and see them chase around like a young puppy once more. It gets me every time."

Harry smiled. "That does sound rather nice." He looked at the name still at the top of his list. "Isn't it rather odd that my wife should be listed as 'Ginny Weasley' when she's been a Potter for thirty years?"

The cup of coffee hesitated in front of Death's mouth as his eyes slipped down. "That is odd."

"So?" Harry asked.

Death grumbled. "I wonder if the stupid fragmented souls messed with my list. Can't move on, can't go back. Trying to defy nature and now I have to pass those sorry excuses for a soul every morning on my commute!"

Harry's eyebrows rose. "If one was previously occupying a diary, it would know my wife's name rather well."

"Ah." Death's gaze fell on the list again. "That may very well be it. I'll need to investigate." He set the cup of coffee down on the counter and a quil appeared in his hand. He crossed Ginny's name off the list. "One way or another, consider her off the hook. I'll talk to her in another century or so." He rolled up the list and tucked it in the pocket of his cloak. "I'll see you soon."

Harry swallowed.

"Just kidding!" Death said, opening the door and stepping outside. "That never gets old! But you will. Live a long life, Harry. I will meet you again when it's time." He waved and then soared off once more.

Harry walked up the door and closed it. He returned to his coffee and took another sip.

"Why was the cloak on me?" She held it in her hands. She looked so very alive with tousled long hair and her night dress wrapped around her form.

"If I told you Death was looking for you, would you believe me?"

She snorted a laugh and picked up the cup of coffee from the counter. "No." She took a sip and promptly spat it out. "That tastes like death!"

"Told you he was here," Harry mumbled under his breath. "I'll get you a new one."

She playfully pushed him out of the way with her hip. "I'll make myself one. You clearly can't be trusted around the coffee machine anymore."

He laughed and took hold of her, kissing her eagerly.

"On second thought..." she said as she slipped her hand down his back. "Why don't you come back upstairs with me..."

"The counter is right there..." Harry offered.

She laughed. "I am not twenty anymore."

"No, you're not," he said happily, his hand caressing the curve of her hip. "But you get better every year."

"My joints don't," she said against his lips.

He pulled her up against him. "Oh, alright. And I'll make you a proper cup in a bit."

She dragged him upstairs, Death's cup forgotten.

[hyuny-bunny]

seasons // series

part vii

summary: Minho is determined to be the one to win your heart.

warnings: sweat (?), panic attack symptoms (hyperventilating)

part vi • masterlist

"Hey, look at me," Jisung says as he grabs your face. You were beginning to hyperventilate after seeing the look on Minho's face.

"Jisung I-"

"Stop, just breathe, okay, close your eyes," He held your face as you focused on every breath count.

Why did the idea of these two crossing paths make you so anxious and uncomfortable? Minho had been around your ex's before, even going as far as trying to befriend them for your sake. So, why was this any different? After your heart rate began to level, Jisung pulled you into a hug rubbing your back soothingly as he called someone. It was only a few moments after, you picked up you head to see the puppy faced boy who was the 2nd person closest to you.

Seungmin took the seat on your on the side of you before ruffling your hair.

"What's wrong?" He asked sympathetically. Even his voice was enough to ground you in something.

You gave him the run down of saturday morning's argument with Minho, then going out and meeting Hyunjin, going home with Hyunjin, to now sitting outside the dance studio where the two have crossed paths.

Seungmin doesn't shame you or even scold you but he does lightly bump his fist to your head making you let out a strained laugh.

"Why are you so worried about this? Is Hyunjin a bad guy?"

"No... he's actually a really sweet guy, even for an alpha.."

"Okay, and how is this situation any different then when you were dating someone else?"

You stop for a moment thinking with pursed lips.

"I guess it's... not? I just... you didn't see the look on Minho's face, he looked like I had just murdered his cat."

"That's a bit extreme," Seungmin says with a chuckle as he fixes a strand of hair from your face. "Either way, who you sleep with or don't sleep, whether he knows or doesn't, is your choice and only you for you to judge. If you say he's a good guy, then trust yourself."

He was right. Why should you be so afraid of what Minho thought? As much as you valued his opinion as a friend, it was just as much you're right to sleep with whoever and whenever as you were single, not tied down to anyone. You lay your head on Seungmins shoulder for a moment.

"I should've told you everything yesterday but I knew you were busy with-"

"I am never too busy for you, okay? Call, text, send Jisung to my door with a message from you- actually don't do that I don't want him at my place," Seungmin says as his face scrunches in disgust at Jisung who sits next to you about to protest.

The two banter back and forth for a moment making you laugh, feeling lighter about everything. They keep you company until the others emerge from their dance class.

-

Jeongin yapped Hyunjin's ear off in those 10 minutes they had for a break as Felix shielded his face in hands. He could feel Minhos eyes throwing daggers at Hyunjin's head.

Hyunjin had learned in those 10 minutes that Minho and you had been friends since childhood, with Minho having had a crush on you long before you presented as an omega and him as an alpha. He couldn't help but wonder why the two of you didn't ever get together. As far as he could tell, the two of you seemed a likely match. While he did know Minho well enough to pass judgement, it was clear the Alpha had an affinity for taking care of the people around him, even if it was as simple as helping someone get a dance move down correctly or making sure no one was too worn down.

Even the bite in the way he joked was so similar to you, it was playful and harmless but could be taken very different if aimed at the right person. There was no denying how good looking he was either. From his build and stature despite not being very tall, there was an energy about him that asserted that dominance intentional or not.

Hyunjin had decided it was best to not let Minho on any further information about the nature of your relationship. If Minho wanted to know anything then he would have to ask you.

The class continued on for another hour, if Minho went back to his cool and collect facade for the remainder of class. Felix watched every movement for Minho waiting for the moment he snapped but he never did. Once the class was over, students trickled out slowly until it was just Jeongin, Hyunjin, Minho and Felix.

As much as it hurt Minho to do this, he couldn't deny the talent that Hyunjin had. The two exchanged numbers so they could work on a possible separate choreography to film. Hyunjin kept his cool so long as Minho did. As the four of them began to make their way to the door, Minho's stomach turned at the idea of facing you.

When he saw you sitting on that bench beside Jisung and Seungmin, it seemed to all melt away. You held out an electrolyte bottle to Minho who gleefully took it. Hyunjin trotted behind him with a smile on his face.

"I'd hug you but I'm soaked in sweat," Hyunjin said as he stood in front of you.

"Oh it's fine don't worry about it! So, uh, I'm guessing I don't have to introduce you two to each other?" You ask looking between Minho and Hyunjin.

"We're pretty well acquainted now," Minho says a bit stiff but Hyunjin just laughs. You attempt to change the topic.

"How come you didn't tell me you were a dance major?" You asked nervously looking between Minho and him.

"You never asked," Hyunjin shrugs as he drinks his water, "I'm not a dance major though."

Minho, Felix and Jeongin cock their head in confusion. He laughs at their reactions before speaking again, "I'm an illustratrative art major, painting is more my forte but dancing is my outlet."

Felix chimes in, "Was that tattoo your design then?"

"What tattoo?" You ask confused but Hyunjin just lets out a soft laugh as he nods to answer Felix's question.

Hyunjin puts his bag down to peel his shirt up revealing the rose tattoo the starts between his shoulder blades and trails down further beneath the fabric in vines and thorns. Unconsciously you reach out to touch it which makes Hyunjin shiver and takes everything in Minho to not rip your hand away.

"I didn't see this before," You murmur in awe of the space it takes up on his back.

"Kinda hard to with when you were preoccupied with other things," Hyunjin says with a wolfish grin as he pulls his shirt back on as he watches the flush creep onto your cheeks and watching you awkwardly laugh.

Minho clears his throat grabbing your wrist abruptly, "We should get going, have somewhere to be in a few but we'll see you guys on wednesday."

"Minho, we don't have anything-"

"Yes, we do, remember." He says through clenched teeth before continuing to drag you away from the group.

"Still on for Friday?" Hyunjin's calls out as he watches the Alphas drag you away.

"Yes!" You shout from over your shoulder as Minho throws his arm around your shoulder to keep you from looking back.

Hyunjin watches feeling satisfied by successfully getting under Minho's skin. He bids his goodbye to the others but before he does Felix runs up to him asking to exchange numbers, you know, incase co-captain things come up. Hyunjin is more than happy to exchange numbers with the pretty blonde omega as he bids goodbye for the last time.

-

"This is the urgent business you were talking about?" You ask sarcastically as you sit in the quiet boba shop booth with Minho across from you.

It was your normal hangout spot but it was also ritual for the two of you to come here every 1st day back of the new semester. It was a cat themed boba shop and it was truthfully one of Minho's favorite places to be, especially with you.

"Yes, they close at 8pm, I didn't want us to miss our chance... how were your classes today?" He asks looking up at you attempting to change the topic from his insistent ways of getting you as far away from Hyunjin as possible.

"Good, my professors are pretty nice. I'm writing my first novel this semester too."

"Will you read it to me when you're ready?" He asks.

"Of course, who else will I read it to?" He internally responds with a scowl at the thoughts of you reading it to Hyunjin.

The two of sit in a comfortable silence listening to the sounds of the people chattering around you.

"What are you doing with Hyunjin on Friday?" Minho is the first to speak up. Likely plotting how to disrupt those plans.

"Not too sure yet... How did you like him?" diverting the question back to Minho.

"Seems nice." He says shortly, unable to meet your gaze. He wouldn't admit that despite his flirty advances towards you, he liked him enough to consider him someone worth getting to know. You hum in acknowledgment. "The lunch you made me was good, thank you."

"You're welcome, nothing compares to your cooking but I try," You say as you stretch up in your seat feeling the exhaustion of the day wearing on you. Minho takes the signal and grabs both your belongings ready to head out.

The warm feeling that spread through your chest as you can't help feeling thankful how easy Minho picks up on your body language, almost better than you can. The drive to your apartment is quiet as the two of you talk about the coming day of other classes tomorrow.

"Oh that reminds me, Saturday night, are you free?" You perk up in your seat.

"I should be, something you want to do?"

"I promised Seungmin that we'd go to his nerdy film marathon, please come with me?" You ask jutting out your bottom lip, while giving him your best puppy eyes.

"Mmmmm what's in it for me?" Minho would say yes regardless but he wanted to see what you would say.

"I'll make your favorite cookies but... i'll make them into little cats." You say with a straight face.

"Deal." He mimics your face until he sees that smile on your face making his heart do a flip.

"Perfect, I'll see you tomorrow," You say quickly climb out of his car before he got a chance to say anything else.

He watches as walk off into your building waving back at him, meeting Hyunjin was like setting a fire under him. He was more determined than ever to get you to see him as someone who could be there for, love you, to be your mate. He would stop at nothing now to be the one that puts that smile on your face.

[meritski]

equally yours • kinich x gn!reader

With Kinich, everyone gets what they deserve. You can either name your price or accept what Kinich offers in return, and no matter which option you choose, you won't be shortchanged—ever. That’s just how he is.

However, you are an exception. No matter which choice you make, you always end up being shortchanged—at least that’s what he believes.

This annoys him. He tries to make things equal while you insist on giving him more. Sometimes, it makes him wonder if you have ulterior motives. Yet, deep down, he knows that being nice is simply in your nature, just as he has his own tendencies.

But it really, really annoys him.

He dislikes being indebted to others, and he doesn’t like when others owe him either. He might be able to tolerate the latter, but the first thought truly bothers him to the point that he finds himself lying in bed, thinking about how to repay you in the middle of the night as he stares at the ceiling while Ajaw murmurs about how he is going to rule the world when he takes over Kinich's body.

And that -the first thought- always seems to be the case with you.

So when he spotted you sleeping in one of the trees near the Children of Echoes with your saurian companion, as some Saurian hunters approached you two, he acted without thinking—which was out of character for him—and dealt with them in an instant.

Looking back at you, who was still asleep while cuddling with the said companion, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

It seemed like you two were equal now.

That was good. You weren't aware of it so you weren't going to do something about it too. Perfect.

From that day on, Kinich never accepted jobs from you, fearing that if he did, you’d do something so in character of you that would leave him empty-handed again.

Now it was your turn to feel annoyed.

Whenever you caught a glimpse of Kinich, he vanished at the moment you blinked. Everytime!

He still interacted with Mualani, Kachina, Chasca—anyone, really!—except you, of course.

You thought Kinich and you were getting along just fine. Since he was always taking jobs from you and you were helping him out every time he did that too. He was desperate to repay the kindness, that was the reason behind the upcoming requests of taking jobs from you. But you didn't know that.

This new approach(could it even be called approach if he didn't approach at all?) made you feel lonely. And he didn’t know that, too.

Kinich felt restless. No matter how much he tried to avoid you, his mind wouldn’t cooperate. He found himself thinking about you more—it was not just at midnight anymore. It reached the point where he would lock his gaze to somewhere far away while his customer talked, trying to rid himself of thoughts of you by repeating, “We are equal now, equal. Equal. Equal.”

He even almost called Mualani by your name. Whenever that memory came to his mind, his ears burned bright red.

He missed your voice.

Wait, what?

Who said that???

Kinich felt himself blush furiously. The worst part? He was in the middle of a conversation with Mauvika, the literal Pyro Archon. He excused himself, and Mauvika gladly let him go.

But Ajaw wasn’t having it.

“Do you have a fever? Please die in silence so I, the Almighty Dragonlord K'uhul Ajaw, can—”

He couldn’t finish his sentence because Kinich put him on a timeout.

He didn’t even know how that happened, but when he came to his senses, he realized he was standing in front of your house.

At that point, he didn't mind owing you; in fact, he felt like he was already indebted to you (especially considering he still felt like you were shortchanged even after the previous encounter, he thought you deserved so much more).

He just wanted to see you.

And maybe, you also wanted to see him too. Given how tight you hugged him when you two finally made up.

He was empty-handed. It felt weird, he doesn't remember coming here like this in what felt like forever.

But now thinking about it, he didn't feel empty-handed at all. Especially when his fingers brushed against yours, intertwining them with such care, he thought he could get used to this.

Through the embrace of you, he felt his eyes soften when he realized there was no such thing as being indebted between the two of you. Whatever you had was his, just as whatever he had was yours.

Because he belonged to you, just as you belonged to him.

Equally.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ notes!

☆ not proofread; it was just a thought that came to my mind while I was trying to sleep, and now it's 3 am lol

☆ i might rewrite this, who knows

[wendichester]

`౨ৎ~ before standford,

summary. sam comes to say goodbye before he leaves.

pairing. sam winchester x reader ; angsty

wordcount. 675

Sam doesn’t know how long he’s been standing outside your door.

Long enough for the porch light to flicker once. Long enough for the lump in his throat to feel damn near permanent.

This is the last stop before Stanford. Before everything changes.

And God, he doesn’t want to knock.

But he does.

The sound is too soft, too hesitant—nothing like the fight he just had with his dad, all raised voices and burning bridges. This knock is careful. Almost reluctant.

A few seconds pass before the door opens, and there you are.

Sam’s stomach twists.

Barefoot, wearing an oversized sweater that’s probably older than both of you, hair messy like you’d just been about to go to bed. You look soft, warm—like home.

"Sam?" Your brows furrow as you take him in. His duffel bag slung over one shoulder, the tight set of his jaw, the weight in his eyes.

And because you know him—because you’ve always known him better than anyone—you don’t ask what happened. You already know.

Instead, you exhale slowly and step aside. "Come in."

Sam hesitates. Just for a second.

Then he does.

The house smells the same—like old books and cinnamon and the faint trace of gun oil. The walls are lined with pictures that don’t belong to people who get out. People like you.

You lead him to the couch, sitting close, knee bumping his. You don’t say anything, just wait.

His throat works. He stares down at his hands. "I’m leaving."

You nod. "I figured."

His head snaps up. "You figured?"

You give him a small, sad smile. "You’ve been talking about this since we were kids, Sam. It was never if you were going—it was when."

He looks away. His chest is tight. "I had to see you before I left."

You nod again, like you understand. Because of course you do.

A long beat of silence stretches between you.

"You scared?" you ask softly.

Sam lets out a breath. "Terrified."

A pause. Then, you say, "Me too."

His eyes flicker to yours, something sharp and aching lodging in his chest.

Because this is what makes it so hard. You.

You’re the only person who ever really got it—the longing for something beyond endless hunts and bloody motel rooms. The dream of normalcy, of stability, of waking up one day and not being afraid.

He should ask you to come with him.

The words sit heavy on his tongue.

But he doesn’t.

Because you won’t.

Because no matter how much you want the same things, you won’t leave.

And he will.

"You’re gonna do great things," you say, voice steady, like you believe it. Like it’s already written in stone.

Sam swallows hard. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you whisper.

He exhales shakily, running a hand through his hair. "God, this is harder than I thought."

Your lips quirk, but your eyes stay sad. "You could just stay."

It’s a joke. He knows it’s a joke.

But it still hits him like a punch to the gut.

"You know I can’t," he says.

You nod, looking down. "I know."

Another silence.

Then, before he can talk himself out of it, he moves.

Pulls you into a tight, desperate hug. Breathes you in like he’s trying to memorize the way you smell, the way you feel in his arms.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his jacket, gripping tight, like you don’t want to let go.

"Don’t forget about me, okay?" you murmur against his shoulder.

Sam’s chest clenches painfully.

"Not possible," he whispers.

He pulls back just enough to look at you. Your face is too close. Your lips are right there.

And God—if things were different.

If this were a world where he wasn’t about to walk out of it.

But it’s not.

So instead, he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. Lets his lips rest there for just a second longer than he should.

Then he stands.

And as he doesn't glance back before closing the door, you know—you're certain—he's already trying to forget you.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @mrs-pondwater19 ⋆ @myceliumsunshine ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @bamboobooshark ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098

[mossyscavern]

More transformers G1 skits… just more of megatron being bumblebee’s A+ parent

Choose your parent name: (mom/dad)

_________________________

Shrapnel: we’ve captured one of the autobots, autobots.

Thundercracker: excellent, megatron will be pleased for your-…

Bumblebee: … hi.

Thundercracker:

Thundercracker: … I take it back. There’s no telling what megatron will think.

———

Megatron: it is of no use prime. I have no love in my spark, therefore I’m-.

Optimus prime: aaand whats bumblebee?

Megatron:

Also Megatron: he’s my pride and joy, also an exception-. Can you not?! I prepared that speech for an earth month for this!!

Optimus: just checking to see where your processor is.

———

Megatron: you will answer for your actions. And primus. Will not be so… merciful.

Starscream, before disaster: … what did I do?!

Thundercracker: … what did he even do?

Skywarp: he stun the Volkswagen Beetle heir and threatened that it’ll be his last if he interferes?

Thundercracker: ah, makes sense… is anyone ever gonna tell him?

Sky warp: nope.

———

Bumblebee: uh.. excuse us.

Megatron, angry: you good for nothing rats!

*an earth day later*

Megatron, hugging bumblebee: I’msorry, I’msorry, I’msorry, I’msorry. I feel like an awful parent unit for saying that.

Bumblebee: it’s ok mom/dad. I know you didn’t mean it… can you let go now?

———

Sky fire: sooo… megatron’s your mom/dad? What’s that?

Bumblebee: it’s similar to carrier/sire back at home on cybertron.

Sky fire: ah, ok… so your-.

Bumblebee: yes I’m the son of a tyrant, warlord.. yada yada. But he’s a good parent unit!

Sky fire: huh… I’ve always thought Optimus is your parent unit.

Bumblebee: nah… he is a good father figure though, I’ll give him that. Don’t tell megatron though, he’s obsessed with Optimus enough as it is.

———

Bumblebee: thank primus I’m not sick.

Ratchet: yeah, we could always use the extra help

Bumblebee: that… isn’t what I was getting at, my mom/dad gets 10 times more… much, whenever I get sick. Sometimes going extreme lengths.

Ratchet: … now I see why you try to repair yourself and brave up every time you come here for your system check.

———

Optimus:

Megatron:

Bumblebee:

Optimus: … no, I’m not going on a date with you.

Megatron: aw c’mon!

Bumblebee: I told you not to do it.

_________________________

Phew… part 2 baby!

Brought to you by megop and starscream’s lust for power that he’ll never receive. (Here’s the first part for those who haven’t seen it or want to revisit it again -> 1st part <- right there, by the arrows)

I again, hope this isn’t… too little.. or much…

[gatorbites-imagines]

I’m not picky just wanna be fussed over & cuddle

Peter Parker x sick male reader

Headcanons

You can imagine most Peters in this scenario, though I always write with comic spidey in mind. Aka, adult, own apartment, job, etc. but I don’t think it’s really mentioned in this. At first, I was gonna write about Trafalgar Law, but I feel like he would we way too much doctor, not enough cuddling.

Not that long, but I hope it’s enough.

I have a feeling Peter would realize before you that you were sick. Like, hed notice a change in your scent, your body temperature or how sluggish you would get.

Noticing early on wouldn’t stop a cold obviously, but he would start getting ready for it, most likely without thinking about it. He just catches himself gathering blankets and your favorite snacks that he knows you can stomach when sick.

Would he make a nest out of webs when you got sick? Maybe? It depends on how spidery we imagine this peter. I feel he would at least stick blankets and pillows together to make the most comfortable bed for you to lay in.

He would try to talk you out of going out or going anywhere when he notices you getting sick. But Peter is known for dating stubborn people, so it would shock nobody if you still went out, thinking you were fine, only for you to get really sick.

Hes never mad about it though, Peter loves you too much. He does tsk and crack a few jokes about it, how your neighborhood spider-nurse needs to take care of you.

Peter would patrol and work less when you are sick, or not patrol at all, depending on how bad it is. If crime is at the normal amount he might stay home anyways, just to spend time with you and make you feel seen and cared for.

I feel like his healing factor keeps Peter from catching common colds and fevers, so he doesn’t worry about kissing and cuddling you. He does joke about the kiss being extra germy, which you would have pushed him out of the bed for, if you weren’t so tired.

Peter likes you feed you when you are sick, since he thinks you should use all your energy to fight whatever sickness you have. He also just thinks it’s kinda romantic.

Peter is also the kind of guy who always worries if you’re drinking enough. He doesn’t just bring you water but all kinds of juices, gatorades, whatever you can think of. You always end up with like 10 different drinks by the bed “just in case you want something else babe”

Not having to worry about getting sick also means Peter will cuddle you. Having a very flexible spider boyfriend also means he can fit right around you inside whatever blanket nest you guys have made up.

His hugs are always so comfortable, since he’s got the strength to give you a good squeeze. Peter would spend this time massaging sore areas of your body, if you are fine with that.

The policy that kisses make it better lives through Peter, so your forehead gets a lot of kisses too.

He also keeps your hands inside his own or under his shirt if the fever makes your hands cold, to keep you warm. You always feel nice and toasty with Peter, there’s no way he’s letting his lover freeze.

Peter also never finds you off-putting or gross when you are sick. It’s just human nature to be sick, and honestly? Seeing you sick makes him love you more, since it means you trust him to be vulnerable around him.

So, peter might be somewhat clumsy and messy in the beginning setting it all up, panicking about getting you everything you need. But he’s a great nurse and cuddlebuddy. When he’s done all his research and gotten all the things though, it’s all cuddles and pampering.

Be careful or he’s gonna bathe you too and not let you lift a finger until you are all better again. Make sure to give him extra kisses to show you are thankful, even if he says its just what boyfriends are meant to do.

[squiddy-god]

Haii , i absolutely loved the cat savanaclaw fic and i wanted to ask for something similar , a reader that's like a bunny ? Bunnies are my favorite animals tbh ♪～(´ε｀　)

Hehe i absolutely can do a bunny boy reader because i too am a big fan of adorable cute bunnies. This is like super late but hopefully this finds you well lol- one of my first post in the new year 

Cw : savanaclaw x reader, male reader!, reader is implied to be the perfect they are just also a bunny boy. 

Leona 

The herbivore comments will not stop i fear

Definitely calls you cotton ball- but you are his cotton ball and he needs you to nap with him

Gets soooo offended when you thump near him like- what do you mean you are mad at him- how dare you 

Also thinks its cute tho 

When you are napping together he definitely is biting your ears, like he is giving them a gentle nibble 

You are smaller than him and he uses that against you at every opportunity 

He will never ever admit this but like when you flop near him and show him your stomach like bunnies do he is dead on impact

You killed him because who gave you the right to be so cute 

I already think that leona 1000000% uses little bites as a love language but it is so much worse with you because he is biting your cheeks 

Ruggie thinks it is hilarious when you stomp your feet at him to thump 

Actively encourages it

Ruggie 

Another one that teases you so much and really how could he not? His giggles ring out every time he hugs you because augh looks at your cute self? 

Ruffles your hair as an excuse to touch your ears 

One of his favorite things is watching you munch down on vegetables 

Squishes your cheeks 

I think he would call you bunny or bunbun because its such a ridiculous nickname he cant help himself

LOVES WATCHING YOU GET MAN AND START THUMPING 

Not at him tho :( but at leona it is so so hilarious 

Got kicked by you on accident and will not stop milking it because it gets him cuddles witch he will never turn down 

Likes doing domestic things with you, chores and other such activities 

Quite a few people look down on you for being a rabbit but he is not letting that slide at all 

Ruggie is the tye to make their stuff go missing or their alarms to be late for the next week 

Just a little resistance hehe 

Jack 

Ok look beastars 

Lol ok for real tho like i feel wolf x rabbit is a classic 

He pretends like you aren't the cutest thing but his tail literally will not stop wagging when he sees your ears twitch 

His favorite part is your adorable tail and the way your nose scrunches up when you are displeased

He never expected you to flop right down next to him and once he realises it means you are very safe and content he is like overwhelmed 

I love the idea of jack letting you ride on his shoulders so that you can get that good good height advantage 

Another one who i think has a love language of love bites 

He is nibbling your cheek like that one image of the two puppies where one is biting the others snout like a kiss 

That is jack 

I think he is also a big fan when you like lay on to of him as if you have one some kind of fight 

Like yes wrestle this boy into being a very comfy pillow

[wonyqt]

kinda cute read!? little argument. happy ending! <3

—

jungkook’s family has always been welcoming, treating you like one of their own from the moment you and jungkook started dating. so when his mom invites you to a family dinner, you don’t think much of it—just another warm, comfortable evening spent with the jeons. except, this time, the kim family is joining. and with them, their daughter, yuseo.

you’ve heard about her before, in passing. a childhood friend of jungkook’s, someone his family adores. you never had a reason to think much of her. that is, until tonight.

jungkook is seated between you and yuseo at the dinner table, his hand resting on your thigh under the table as he leans in to whisper things only you can hear. sweet things. his attention is fully on you, making you feel secure, wanted—like you’re the only one in the room. but that security starts to falter when yuseo keeps trying to insert herself into the conversation, laughing a little too hard at jungkook’s jokes, touching his arm every chance she gets.

“jungkook, do you remember when we used to walk home from school together?” yuseo chimes in, tilting her head as she looks at him.

jungkook glances at her, nodding. “yeah, we were kids.”

“and we had the biggest crushes on each other,” she adds, giggling. “we even dated for a little bit, remember?”

your stomach churns at her words, at the way she looks at him like you aren’t sitting right there. like she’s trying to remind him of something you have no part in. jungkook only hums in response, not giving it much thought, but that doesn’t stop the way irritation builds in your chest.

and then she does it. she reaches out, fingers brushing through jungkook’s hair thats touching his forehead , pushing them out of his face like it’s the most natural thing in the world. he doesn’t react—doesn’t move away, doesn’t stop her. it’s innocent, at least to him, but to you, it’s anything but.

your grip on your fork tightens, but you keep your expression neutral, not wanting to cause a scene in front of his parents. still, the heat in your chest is undeniable, and the smirk tugging at yuseo’s lips lets you know she’s fully aware of what she’s doing.

when dinner is finally over, you can’t wait to leave, but jungkook is still taking his time saying goodbye. you watch as yuseo steps closer to him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug that lingers a little too long. her hands rest on his lower back, fingers pressing lightly as she whispers something into his ear, her lips nearly grazing his skin.

jungkook, completely oblivious, simply pats her back before pulling away, flashing her an easy smile. “it was nice seeing you, yuseo.”

you, on the other hand, are fuming.

the car ride home is silent. you don’t say a word, staring out the window with your arms crossed, jaw clenched. jungkook, on the other hand, is completely relaxed, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his lap like nothing happened. like yuseo hadn’t been all over him all night. like you hadn’t just sat there and taken it because you didn’t want to make a scene in front of his family.

when you finally get home, you kick off your shoes and go straight to the couch, plopping down with a heavy sigh. jungkook follows behind, watching you carefully.

“you okay?” he asks, tilting his head.

“mhm,” you hum, not even sparing him a glance.

he narrows his eyes. “you sure?”

“yup.”

jungkook sighs and sits next to you, draping an arm over the back of the couch. “alright, what’s wrong?”

you huff, crossing your arms tighter. “what’s wrong?” you repeat, turning to face him. “yuseo was flirting with you all night, and you just sat there and let her.”

jungkook blinks, clearly caught off guard. “flirting? what are you talking about?”

you scoff. “are you serious? she was all over you, jungkook. laughing at everything you said, touching you, bringing up how you two used to date—”

“she was just being friendly,” he cuts in, shaking his head.

you let out a bitter laugh, staring at him in disbelief. “oh, friendly? so you just let anyone push your hair out of your face? let anyone whisper in your ear like that? reminisce about how they used to date you while your girlfriend is sitting right there?”

jungkook’s jaw tenses, his relaxed demeanor shifting. “y/n, come on. it wasn’t like that. yuseo is just a friend, she wouldn’t—”

“oh, she wouldn’t?” you interrupt, voice rising. “jungkook, she was being so obvious, and you did nothing about it. you just sat there and let her act like that right in front of me.”

jungkook exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “you’re being dramatic,” he mutters.

your mouth falls open, anger bubbling over. “dramatic?” you repeat, tone sharp. “you think i’m being dramatic because i don’t like watching another girl throw herself at my boyfriend while he acts like it’s nothing?”

“because it was nothing,” jungkook argues, his own frustration growing. “i wasn’t flirting with her, i wasn’t even paying attention to her half the time. you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

you shake your head, standing up from the couch, the heat in your chest making it impossible to sit still. “forget it,” you mumble, walking away, leaving jungkook sitting there, running a hand down his face in exasperation.

you storm into your shared bedroom, your heart pounding in your chest. you don’t even know why you came in here—you just needed to get away from him, from the argument, from the way he’s making you feel like you’re crazy for being upset.

but jungkook isn’t done. he follows after you, shutting the door behind him with a frustrated sigh. “y/n, seriously, why are you acting like this?” he asks, his tone edged with irritation. “it’s like you’re just looking for something to be mad about.”

you spin around, glaring at him. “are you even listening to me? i’m not looking for something to be mad about, jungkook. i’m mad because you let another girl put her hands on you and talk about your past relationship with her like i wasn’t even there.”

jungkook lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “and what? you think that means something? you think i want her?”

“i don’t know, do you?” you snap.

his jaw clenches, and he exhales harshly, clearly trying to keep his own temper in check. “y/n, you’re acting like you don’t trust me.”

“this isn’t about trust, jungkook. this is about respect.”

he scoffs, rubbing a hand down his face. “or maybe it’s about you being insecure.”

the second the words leave his mouth, he regrets them. but it’s too late.

your face drops, the fire in your eyes flickering out into something much softer, much more painful. it’s like the fight drains out of you in an instant, replaced by an ache so deep you can’t even breathe.

“insecure?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper.

jungkook’s expression changes in an instant, his frustration melting away into something that looks a lot like regret. “baby, wait, i—”

but you just shake your head, blinking rapidly as your eyes begin to gloss over. “you think i’m insecure just because i don’t like seeing another girl flirt with my boyfriend?”

“no, that’s not—”

“forget it,” you mumble, pushing past him toward the door.

he reaches for you, but you step out of his grasp, grabbing your keys from the dresser. “y/n, wait—”

“don’t follow me,” you say, your voice quiet but firm. “i just… i need to be alone.”

and before he can say another word, you walk out, leaving jungkook standing there, his chest tight with regret as the sound of the door closing behind you echoes through the apartment.

it’s past 2 a.m. when you finally stumble through the front door, the world around you spinning. your fingers fumble with the doorknob, your blurry vision making it almost impossible to get the key in. you never do this—never drink to the point of losing yourself—but tonight was different. this was the worst fight you and jungkook have ever had. you couldn’t sit with the weight of it, so you drowned it in alcohol instead.

as soon as the door creaks open, you see him. jungkook is on the couch, still awake, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together like he’s been sitting there for hours. waiting.

his head snaps up the second you step inside, and in an instant, he’s on his feet, coming straight toward you. “where the hell have you been?” his voice is laced with worry, his brows furrowed as he takes in your disheveled state.

you roll your eyes, still feeling spiteful despite the alcohol coursing through your veins. “none of your business,” you mumble, trying to brush past him.

but jungkook doesn’t let you. his hands come up, gently but firmly gripping your arms to steady you. his brows knit together, his eyes scanning your face. “have you been drinking?” he asks, his voice softer now, but filled with concern.

you blink up at him, and suddenly, everything crashes down on you at once. the fight, the anger, the hurt, the words you both said to each other. the way he called you insecure. the way you left.

your bottom lip trembles, and before you can stop it, a sob breaks past your lips. “jungkook…” you hiccup, clutching onto his shirt as your knees nearly give out. “i’m sorry.”

his arms wrap around you instantly, holding you up as you bury your face into his chest. “hey, hey, it’s okay,” he whispers, his voice gentle as he rubs slow circles into your back.

you shake your head, gripping onto him tighter. “no, it’s not,” you slur, sniffling. “you were right. i was being dramatic. i was being insecure, and i—”

“stop,” jungkook says firmly, pulling back just enough to look at you. his hands cup your face, thumbs wiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks. “don’t say that.”

you look up at him, confused, your vision still hazy. “but—”

“you were right,” he says, his voice thick with guilt. “y/n, you were right to be mad. you were right to feel the way you did. i should’ve shut that shit down. i should’ve listened to you instead of dismissing your feelings.” he shakes his head, his jaw clenching. “and i should’ve never called you insecure. i didn’t mean it. i swear i didn’t. i was just frustrated and being a fucking idiot.”

more tears fall down your face, and jungkook wipes them away as fast as they come, his own eyes glassy with regret.

“i’m so, so sorry,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. “please don’t ever think you need to apologize for feeling the way you did. you’re valid, baby. always.”

you sniffle, your body still shaking, but you nod against him, letting him hold you, letting his warmth ground you.

“can we go to bed?” you mumble weakly, exhausted in every possible way.

“of course,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head. “let’s get you ready for bed, love.”

as jungkook helps you into the bedroom, your steps are wobbly, but his hands are steady. he holds you close, guiding you with so much care that it makes your chest tighten.

once inside, you stop and look up at him, your fingers weakly gripping the fabric of his shirt. “are you sure?” you whisper, your voice small.

jungkook furrows his brows. “about what, baby?”

“that i was right,” you mumble, eyes glossy as you search his face. “that i wasn’t just… being dramatic.”

his expression softens instantly, and he cups your cheeks again, tilting your head up so you have no choice but to look at him. “yes, i’m sure,” he says firmly. “y/n, you were right. i should’ve listened to you the first time. i should’ve seen what was happening and done something about it.” his thumb strokes your cheek gently. “i hate that i made you feel like your feelings weren’t valid. i hate that i hurt you. i’m so sorry, baby.”

your lip trembles again, but this time, it’s not from sadness—it’s from relief. you nod, and without another word, you lean in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against his lips.

jungkook exhales into the kiss, his hands holding you like you’re something fragile, something he never wants to break again. he kisses you back just as softly, just as tenderly, letting the moment stretch until you finally pull away, your forehead resting against his.

“let’s get you ready for bed, yeah?” he murmurs.

you nod, letting him guide you to the bathroom. he sits you down on the counter, grabbing a makeup wipe before carefully running it over your face. his touch is gentle, like he’s trying to make up for everything with each soft stroke.

“you don’t have to do this,” you mumble, your eyes fluttering shut as he removes the last of your mascara.

“i want to,” he whispers.

once he’s finished, he helps you change into something comfortable before leading you to bed. the second you both lay down, you curl into his chest, and he wraps his arms around you, holding you impossibly close.

the room is quiet, just the sound of your breathing and the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. then, in a soft whisper, jungkook speaks.

“i love you.”

a small, tired smile tugs at your lips. “i love you too.”

and with that, you let sleep take you, safe in the warmth of his arms, knowing that no matter how bad things get, you’ll always find your way back to each other.

[giodoodless]

captain america brave new world coming out soon so i thought: sambucky hcs 🥰

Bucky keeps a whole bunch of photos of Sam in a locked fold in his gallery and not a single soul can see what's in there. It's his naughty little secret and he gets all smiley by just thinking about it.

Cold season is Sam's perfect excuse to just shove his face against Bucky's chest whenever his wants. His supersoldier boyfriend is a walking furnace and he'll miss no chance to rub his nose between his pecks and let those arms hold him. Bucky snorts, cheeks burning red. He kisses Sam's forehead and hugs him tight, enjoying the company of his loving boyfriend.

By the way they will cuddle EVERY CHANCE THEY GET 'cause they love it, they love spending as much time together as they can. At least one call at a day when they're away, Bucky with those idiots from Thunderbolts and Sam in missions being cap. Unending promises and sweet words shared, Bucky saying the minute they get home he'll make them dinner and cuddle the whole night and that makes Sam warm all over.

If there's even a chance Bucky will get to see Sam being Captain America and watch him order people around with that grave, majestic voice of his in his white cap suit.... count him in. Bucky's not interested in anything to do with the mission ahead, his old ass is only interested in watching his gorgeous boyfriend be the natural leader that he is, boss him around and fly with his wings. Sam's giving him orders and Bucky only hears blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff.

Bucky's tights are thick and strong. Sam has seen the old man use his metal arm to shield people from huge flying objects and those strong legs keep him in place. Sam likes that very much ;)). Tight pants are a must and when Bucky wants to know why, Sam just shrugs his shoulders and makes him wear what he wants. “Just do what your captain says Barnes!” Sam demands and Bucky arches up an eyebrow, huffing out a laugh, putting on tight jeans and walking back and forth on purpose, just to tease. Sam is looking at the old man's tiny little ass with no respect, he is looking like a slut 👀😍.

Back rubs are the thing for Sam. Bucky's warm hand starts making circles around his shoulder blades and middle back and Sam's already snoring peacefully against him, the weight of the world falling off his shoulders instantly. Man doesn't hear SHIT, it's like he's fucking dead because he's just so serene and breathing so slow, totally comfortable in Bucky's embrace. When that happens, Bucky checks on him every second. Sam's so still and silent it actually scares him. the fear of loosing Sam sometimes goes over his head and makes him paranoid. Bucky enjoys the feeling of Sam against him so slack and easy, limbs heavy. He gives his body a light squeeze and Sam snugs in more :').

Anything to do with hair make Bucky weak. Sam's just taking a look at his hair, fingers running through his roots and going down his neck nape, and Bucky's already loosing his shit. Can't have a single coherent thought, he just sighs and let his body relax, whining like a clingy cat when Sam stops, grabbing Sam's hands with a desperation that leaves him shocked. Bucky tries to act cool and fails miserably, asking Sam and only Sam to tie his hair, to brush it. It'd be a big fat lie if Sam said he didn't enjoy the fact that only he gets to caress it. They're laid down together and Sam runs his fingers through it slowly, instantly smiling at the sweet sound Bucky makes. Sam groans with pure adoration.

Bucky takes a whole bunch of videos of Sam and makes funny editing with it. Just stupid shit and he laughs the loudest while watching what he's done. He gets Aj and Cass to watch them too and they have the greatest time of their lives. They laugh at his face and Sam prays to god the embarrassment will end soon, but it never does. Lmao even Sarah and Joaquin join in Bucky's bullshit it's hilarious.

Long videos of Bucky doing anything, but especially some heavy work at the docks while helping people. When the house is all empty, redwing plays some of those videos on the TV for Sam to watch. His eyes don't even blink, not once. The camera zoom in his face, gorgeous smile and piercing blue eyes, that beard turning slowly white and his dark hair. Those shoulders and that shinning metal arm. Sam smirks, thinking to himself: that's all mine.

As much as Bucky's really into Sam's ass, he's got a much bigger thing for his waist and chest. Always cracking up dumb jokes like “man where's your bra? cause i can see your titties from here” and watching Sam die of embarrassment with a big, soft smile. A sneaky hand always finds its way to his smooth, toned waist and sides, squeezing the skin lightly and getting a sharp breath out of Sam. Sleeping with a hand on Sam's pecks is a must and Sam just lets him do it. He thinks it's cute.

[cherrysurf]

Ushijima wakatoshi always was one to wake up before sunrise and get his daily jog in. He was a man of routine, one that he hardly broke even after dating and moving in with you.

As much as anyone liked to argue, he was still human. Wakatoshi wasn’t always going to be perfect, as weird as that sounded to most. He would be forgetful, lose a few things, and maybe even wear his running shoes backward if he was extra drowsy that morning.

Yes, those things bothered him slightly, but he never took any of it too seriously because it wasn’t of importance to him.

When you first moved in with Wakatoshi, he had to adjust certain things in his life because there wasn’t just one schedule or routine in the house, now there were two.

Two alarms, two slippers by the bed, two toothbrushes, two keys, double the amount of shower, skin, body products, and lastly, two warm bodies in the bed.

Two warm bodies together throughout the night, sleeping closely and soundly next to one another, sharing the same rhythm in their hearts. One warm body that made it hard to leave the bed in the early mornings now. One warm body that he craved to sleep by now and forever.

One warm body that made him skip out on a morning run every blue moon—that warm body being you.

It was the weekend: no job, no practice for either of you. Even on days like this, when Ushijima would still carry on his day as if it were a normal day of scheduled practice. He’d wake up, go for a jog, eat, go to the gym, practice volleyball, eat, jog, and then head to bed.

Today was different though. The air was colder. The side of his body that you clung to at night was warmer and more inviting to stay by. His body was more relaxed; his brain turned off all the “important” stuff he had to do. He turned off all his alarms before they woke you up since he knew you liked to sleep in and have very lazy weekends.

He stayed in bed with you, letting himself fall back into a deep sleep with the scent of your shampoo hitting his nose as he leaned his head back on his pillow, you and he being just inches apart. He liked moments like this; he didn't know he was one to crave such domesticity with someone.

You woke up around 11 a.m.; usually during days like this, you’d find the other side of the bed cold. You didn’t mind. Toshi had his routine, and you had yours. They might not be the same, but you still had time for each other, and he never judged you. He knew you worked hard but that you also had days of self-indulgence and a good balance.

To your surprise, you felt something warm behind you and an arm wrapped around your waist. "Was it… no, it couldn’t be,” you thought. You turned your head slightly to be met with his face looking so peaceful and content.

The sudden shift caused Ushijima to stir awake, his eyes now meeting yours as you turned your body so you two could face each other.

“Mr. Ushiwaka sleeping in? May I ask why?” A giggle escaped your mouth as you looked at the fluff-haired man in front of you, his eyes never failing to make your heart flip.

“Mm… you were too warm for me to leave today. It was cold,” he said softly as he practically buried himself in your chest.

“Ahh, I get it; that's understandable.” You adjusted yourself so you could be more comfortable as you carded through his hair since he lowered himself to hug your waist as he leaned on your chest.

Ushijima was never much of a person who sought physical affection, especially at the beginning of the relationship. Over time, he became more open to it, more so because he craved it; this only happened to him after you two started dating.

One time Ushijima heard Semi say something along the lines of, “The right man won’t have to force himself to change; it'll come naturally to him, he’ll want to change to be better for his girlfriend.” He never really understood that term until it happened to him. He was glad he could experience that.

“Should we make breakfast? I'm kinda hungry..” You know that your stomach will start speaking for you if you don't say it now.

“Yes, what should we eat?” he murmured into your skin.

“I was thinking banana bread... maybe eggs and toast too.” You leave the suggestion out in the open, hoping he’ll agree.

“That sounds good. Do you want to cook it together?” He lifts his head to glance at your features and how they look in the late morning.

“I think that’s a perfect idea, Toshi,” you giggle, staring back at him.

“Great! Let’s go.” He gets up from the bed slowly but surely, just taking his time. He eventually picks you up bridal style to take you to the kitchen so you two can get started on breakfast.

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