#if you are the type of person to just fill your time with people bc you can’t be alone that just doesn’t sit right with me

[snekdood]

the worst thing about that poly relationship i was vaguing about- is how willing i was to let any and all romance fall to the side for their little romance plot to be fullfilled and very "story book" or whatever, was literally trying to push him to be more romantic with the meta, I was already falling out of love with the dude involved anyways bc he just was not capable of being what I needed, I was perfectly content JUST being friends but nah. even thats too much of a threat. theres still too much of a possibility of him conceivably leaving that person for me or some shit I guess, even though I DONT FUCKING WANT HIM LIKE THAT ANYMORE.

[butteryunlikelylady]

I don’t want someone who just wants anybody. I want someone who’s been looking and waiting for ME.

[dearmini]

𐔌 아이엔 .ᐟ ꒱ ─ how to braid a heart.

YANG JEONGIN! ⓘ when you walk in on him learning to braid hair.. for you?

⌣ ﹒ ✿ ﹕ 𝑏f!jeongin ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff ! 4300wc. ⎯⎯ ᒪIᗷᖇᗩᖇY ⟢ cw. pure love, intimacy, cursing, unfunny jokes, bickering, rain (again). ┆ ☆ ⋮ drabble .ᐟ

𝑦𝑎𝑛𝑖'𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑙 𓈒 𓈒 ⭑ and back again with another mini drabble! I'M SORRY IT KEEPS GETTING LONG. I CAN'T HELP IT. I SWEAR I TRIED MY BEST OKAY. happy reading!

it starts on a rainy afternoon.

the sky’s an overcast blur, cottony grey and soft like the hush of a lullaby. outside the window, the rain’s been drizzling for hours—persistent, gentle. the kind that makes people want to curl into themselves and disappear under a hoodie. the kind that fills a boy’s bedroom with the scent of petrichor and lazy light and something warm, something waiting.

inside, the air is thick with the hum of effort and youtube hair tutorials.

yang jeongin is frowning.

deeply. intensely. so much that the tiny crease between his brows could write a thesis on how absolutely ridiculous this is.

his long legs are folded awkwardly on his bed, laptop perched dangerously on a too-fluffy pillow, volume turned down low like he’s committing a crime. on-screen, a chipper woman with shiny nails is explaining, once again, how to start a simple three-strand braid. he doesn’t know what “detangle thoroughly” is supposed to mean when the practice mannequin he bought off some shady online store came tangled, like the thing had beef with him in a past life.

jeongin sighs. sharp and dramatic. like a man defeated by plastic hair.

"why am i doing this," he mutters, though it's the twentieth time he’s said it and the answer never changes.

his fingers, ringed and slender, hover in the air like he’s diffusing a bomb. he’s watched four videos already—two american vloggers, one british lady, and a girl named chloe who made it look suspiciously easy. they all say the same thing: divide the hair, cross one over the other, repeat.

but his fingers? his fingers are traitors. they fumble. they hesitate. they grip too hard, twist the strands weirdly, somehow create a knot so intense it feels personal.

"great," he deadpans, staring down at the mess he’s made. “it looks like i braided a broomstick with anxiety.”

still, he doesn’t stop.

not even when his phone buzzes with a message from seungmin in their group chat.

[minimin]: iyennie what are you doing you’re too quiet [maknaeontop]: cry-typing bc love makes me stupid [minimin]: ew [minimin]: oh wait are you actually

he locks his phone without replying, because yes, he is actually. and he’s not ready to be bullied about it.

he exhales slowly, dragging a hand through his hair, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. model face, they always say. sharp jawline, perfect skin, annoyingly symmetrical.

and yet here he is—sitting cross-legged in neon pyjama pants with strawberries on them, practicing braiding on a fake head like he’s training for the olympics of soft boyfriend behaviour.

he looks back at the wig head. it sits on his desk, propped up like a little goblin staring into his soul. its blank eyes challenge him.

“don’t look at me like that,” jeongin says flatly. “you’re the one who’s not cooperating.”

but the thing is—he’s serious about this.

it started two weeks ago, the first time you’d complained that your hair was being "super annoying" and you just wanted to 'chop it all off and live like a boy in the 2000s.'

you’d said it in passing, curling up against him on the couch, head tilted, the glow of the tv painting shadows across your cheek.

and he’d looked at you then. really looked.

the pout on your lips. the strands falling over your eyes. the quiet frustration under your breath as your fingers tugged a bit too roughly at a knot.

something about it stuck.

that night, after you’d fallen asleep, soft breathing tangled in his hoodie, the loverboy here had stared at the ceiling and thought.. 'i wish i could help. i wish i could do that for her.'

and that was that.

now he’s five videos deep, wrist aching, knees numb from sitting weird. his fingers are shaking, not from exhaustion, but from how hard he’s trying. his tongue sticks out in concentration—just a little, just the tiniest sliver of pink against the sharp lines of his mouth. adorable and determined.

outside, thunder rolls lazily. the window fogs up from the warmth of the room. he smells the faint citrus of his candle—the one you picked out, teasing him for liking “bougie scents” before sneakily smelling it three more times. the one he keeps lit when he misses you. which is often.

the mannequin head tilts slightly as he tugs on a finished braid. it’s not perfect. it’s kinda uneven. a few strands are sticking out. but—it's a braid.

his first real one.

he stares at it for a moment, expression unreadable, then lets out a quiet laugh under his breath. the kind that almost doesn't make a sound. just breath, and pride, and affection leaking out through the cracks in his self-deprecating walls.

“y/n,” he mumbles to himself, “you better bawl when i do this on you.”

a beat. he stares down at the wig, smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“…or at least pretend to be impressed. i’m emotionally fragile.”

and with that, he hits play on the next video. french braids this time. no one said love was easy. but jeongin's always been the type to take his time with the things that matter.

and you?

you matter most of all.

. . .

the braid unravels the second he blinks.

one second, he’s staring at it—fingers suspended mid-air like he’s diffusing a bomb, heart beating with the gentle anticipation of accomplishment—and the next, the strands slip like water through his hands.

and the softest little “nooo…” escapes him.

it’s quiet. gentle. like a child watching their sandcastle wash away.

jeongin sighs, slow and guttural, tilting his head back until it thumps softly against his headboard. the rain outside has softened to a drizzle, the kind that clings to windows like a lullaby. the sky is still grey, but there’s a warmth in his room now—a lemony-citrus kind of haze, mixing with the cotton scent of fabric softener from the blanket twisted around his legs. a comfort cocoon. a secret mission cave. the jeongin love lab™ (unofficial name. do not repeat this to anyone).

he’s surrounded by crime scene evidence: a bobby pin clamped between his teeth, a broken hair tie hanging from his wrist, a video paused on the screen of some lady who braided her own hair in twenty seconds. with french flair. while smiling.

jeongin narrows his eyes at her like she owes him money.

"she's mocking me,” he says under his breath, chewing dramatically on the bobby pin.

his phone buzzes again.

[minimin]: are u ok [sooniedoongiedori]: is the kid crying over love again [hyuniret]: what happened to my baby [maknaeontop]: get out [hyuniret]: not until you tell mama what’s wrong [hyuniret]: i’ll bake you cookies [hyuniret]: i’ll kiss your cheeks

jeongin’s nose scrunches, but his heart does that annoying soft thing. the warm thing. the “ugh i guess i like you idiots” thing.

he hesitates only a second before tapping hyunjin’s name. video call.

it rings once.

twice.

and then—

hyunjin answers dramatically. black buzzcut adorned with a pink headband, face glistening from what looks like a very intense skincare routine, lips pursed like a mum who’s just been told her son failed math.

“iyennie!” he gasps, clutching his chest. “you look pale. did someone break your heart? was it seungmin? i’ll kill him.”

“i’m literally fine,” jeongin deadpans, leaning back against the pillow mountain behind him. “this is not a therapy session.”

hyunjin gasps again, but more offended this time. “how dare. first of all, every call with me is a healing experience. second of all—what’s that behind you?”

jeongin freezes.

too slow.

too suspicious.

hyunjin leans in on the screen like a hawk. “is that a… wig head? is that… blonde hair? are you—are you braiding something?!”

silence.

jeongin stares blankly at the screen. “this call is over.”

“nope—nope—not a chance—explain yourself,” hyunjin screeches, kicking something off-screen and nearly knocking over his phone in the process. “wait—is it for y/n? you’re learning to braid for her aren’t you—”

“keep your voice down!” jeongin hisses, darting to shut his bedroom door like a teenager caught sneaking out. “what if she hears you? she’s not even home yet but still—what if the walls are thin or something.”

“my precious soft romantic noodle.”

“don’t.”

“my little handsy craftsman—”

“i will hang up, hyung.”

“so you are braiding! oh my god. you’re literally adorable. i knew you loved her but this is like—baking-level devotion. you're spending too much time with the main loverboy. aka me.”

jeongin mutters something unintelligible and grabs the mannequin again. its plastic eyes haunt him. “i’m just trying to get it right. my fingers keep slipping and she has this one little piece that always falls loose—she tucks it behind her ear, like—like this.”

he mimics it, almost absentmindedly. his eyes soften.

hyunjin notices, and for once, doesn’t interrupt.

there’s something about watching jeongin like this. all his sharp little edges dulled into domestic softness. not performing, not teasing, not being the chaotic maknae or the class clown or the guy who always says something sarcastic when things get too sincere.

he’s just… quiet. and trying.

and that’s the most vulnerable thing of all.

hyunjin clears his throat, gentler now. “okay, listen. i used to braid my hair all the time before i chopped it off, remember?”

jeongin perks up. “yeah, you were like… weirdly good at it.”

“still am, thank you very much. i even practiced on lixie a few times. he giggled the whole time like i was tickling him with angel wings.”

“of course he did.”

“anyway,” hyunjin continues, flipping his camera to demonstrate on a random knit scarf from his bed. “it’s not about making it perfect. it’s about rhythm. breathe with it. like—left, right, center. it’s a heartbeat, not math.”

jeongin raises an eyebrow. “that’s… kinda poetic.”

“i’m kinda a genius.”

“you’re kinda a nerd.”

“you’re kinda in love.”

he doesn’t deny it.

instead, jeongin copies him—slowly, carefully, the way you reach for something delicate in the dark. one strand over. then another. he’s holding his breath again. his knuckles are tense. but his fingers don’t slip this time.

the braid takes shape like a secret blooming.

“hey,” hyunjin says after a minute, voice quieter, eyes warm through the screen. “she’s gonna love it, you know.”

jeongin looks down at the messy braid in his hands. it’s still a little uneven. a little frayed at the end. but it holds. it stays.

he exhales.

“yeah,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “i think so too.”

hyunjin smiles like he knows something ancient. “text me when she cries.”

“i’m not trying to make her cry.”

“no, no, like in a good way. like happy tears. you’re gonna ruin her standards forever.”

“…that’d be kinda iconic, actually.”

“that’s my boy.”

and for once, jeongin lets himself grin.

just a little. just enough.

the screen dims as the call ends. the room is quiet again—only rain against glass, the soft fizz of his candle, the faint smell of vanilla-laced cotton, the memory of your voice somewhere in the fabric of his hoodie.

the braid rests on the mannequin’s shoulder, gentle and crooked and completely real.

and somewhere in his chest, jeongin feels it.

the heartbeat of it. left, right, center.

you, you, always you.

the front door sighs open with the softest creak.

it’s after 6pm—the kind of dusky grey that makes everything feel like it’s been filtered through nostalgia. your arms are full—bag slipping off your shoulder, scarf unraveling from your neck, a paper coffee cup still lukewarm from earlier. you’re tired, windblown, and ever so slightly damp from the rain, which now smells like petrichor and wet pavement and the faint trace of ozone.

“iyennie?” you call out softly, toeing off your shoes, already craving the warmth of him.

no reply.

you frown a little, peeking into the hallway. there’s no music playing. no clatter of a game controller. no fake scoffing at your outfit or teasing demand for a bite of your snack.

nothing. just quiet. thicker than usual.

the lights are on in his room, though. warm, gold-toned. inviting. like honey melting across the walls.

you pause.

knock lightly. “jeongin?”

still no answer.

and so—curious, maybe a little concerned, you push the door open.

what you find… isn’t something you could’ve imagined in a hundred years.

jeongin—model-faced, sharp-jawed, fashion-manicured chaos incarnate jeongin—is on the floor. legs crossed, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, face scrunched in deep concentration. his tongue pokes out at the corner of his mouth. a wig head with synthetic blonde hair rests in front of him like a bizarre shrine, and his long fingers are tangled awkwardly in the strands.

he doesn’t notice you. not at all. he’s whisper-counting under his breath.

“left, right, center… center, left, wait—fuck—no, that’s not center, wait—why is this so hard?”

he groans. not dramatically. genuinely. like this braid has personally insulted him, his ancestors, and the entire yang bloodline.

you blink.

and then you do the only logical thing in that moment.

you burst out laughing.

jeongin jumps so violently he flings the poor wig head across the carpet. his eyes fly up, wide and accusatory, like you’re the villain in his villain origin story.

“what the fuck— oh my god.”

you’re already wheezing, hand to your chest, leaning against the doorframe. “oh my god. oh my god. you were talking to it. you were braiding a mannequin—iyen-ah, what the hell?”

“i was not—shut up—get out!”

you stumble in further, nearly dropping your coffee. “no way. you can’t erase this from my brain. this is permanent. this is my core memory now.”

jeongin scoffs, snatching the wig like it’s a bomb he’s shielding you from. “why are you even home already? you said six-thirty!”

you blink through your laughter. “it is six-thirty.”

he freezes.

then mutters, “…traitorous clock.”

you drop your bag with a dramatic thud and crawl onto the bed like a predator, face lit up with delight. “oh my god, this is amazing. who were you gonna show? or were you just planning to become a secret braid master and drop it casually in conversation like, ‘oh yeah, i do complicated french braids now, no big deal’?”

“shut up,” he mutters again, cheeks visibly pink.

you hum, sitting cross-legged like royalty, chin in your palm. “so who’s the lucky client, hm?”

jeongin glares. “it’s not for you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

you lift an eyebrow, unbothered. “oh no?”

“no,” he says, entirely too fast. “your dumb hair’s always falling everywhere. like a goddamn waterfall. it’s annoying.”

you press your lips together to hide the grin threatening to split your face. “right. so naturally, your first instinct is to learn an entire skill set to deal with my dumb hair.”

he throws a pillow at you. you catch it easily.

“you’re so—ugh—you’re so full of yourself,” he grumbles, yanking the hoodie sleeves back down and refusing to look at you. “not everything i do is about you.”

you lean back against the headboard, stretching with a content little sigh. “except when it is.”

he groans again, flopping backwards like a teenager in agony. “i hate you.”

you smile, impossibly fond. “no, you don’t.”

he peeks at you from one eye. “no. i really do.”

you stretch your leg out and nudge his thigh with your socked toe. “you were doing so well, too. you almost had it.”

“whatever. i didn’t even care.”

you nod solemnly. “of course. you were just… having a casual braid session with your… headless friend.”

“she has a name,” he says without thinking.

you gasp. “oh my god, you named her—”

he lobs another pillow, this one stronger. “get out.”

but you’re both laughing now—open and loud and soft around the edges, like this room has folded in to make space for something warmer.

your laughter fades into a smile. your eyes meet his, and there’s a lull, a hush, like the rain’s listening too.

“yennie,” you say, softer now, “you’re actually kind of a genius.”

he scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t hide the way his lips twitch upward. “took you long enough to realize.”

you crawl closer, curling up beside him, the scent of your shampoo mingling with the faint cinnamon-sugar of his hoodie. your knee brushes his. your fingers reach out, tangle lightly in the edge of the messy braid still clinging to life.

he watches your hand.

you watch him.

and he says, low, quiet: “i just wanted to get it right.”

your heart does something dumb and fluttery. “why?”

he shrugs. doesn’t meet your eyes. “just figured… you let me touch your hair so much. i should at least learn to do something useful with it.”

silence.

heavy. sweet.

you lean in, press your forehead to his shoulder. he stiffens, then melts.

you murmur, “you’re a dumbass.”

“i know.”

“…but like, my favourite one.”

he grins—smug and shy all at once. “i better be.”

and the rain keeps falling.

and the mannequin keeps watching.

and you—two kids tangled up in love, in sarcasm, in shitty synthetic braids and soft secret affections—just stay there, skin against skin, laughter still echoing like thunder trailing behind lightning.

and you think—this must be what it feels like.

true love, in a room full of pillows and mistakes and too many words.

braided gently between your hearts.

. . .

the next morning is gentle in a way only weekend scan be—slow and sticky, syrup-dripped around the corners.

the room smells like jeongin: bergamot and laundry detergent, worn cotton and leftover vanilla candle from last night. he’s sprawled across your shared bed like a prince who owns the morning, blanket kicked halfway off, hoodie riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of tan skin above his waistband.

you’re already awake, curled into your corner of the mattress, pillow hugging your chest.

watching him.

thinking.

the image of him practicing braids on a wig still lives in your brain rent-free. it flickers behind your eyes every time you look at him now. and you can’t stop smiling. can’t stop remembering the way his fingers fumbled through strands like they were secrets. how he muttered to himself like the mannequin had personally offended him. how he told you, with his whole heart and no eye contact, “i just wanted to get it right.”

you’d kissed his cheek before bed.

he hadn’t brought it up again.

but now—

now, as golden light curls through the curtains and your boyfriend begins to stir—grumbling softly, smacking his lips like a grumpy cat—you decide it’s time.

“hey,” you whisper, reaching to nudge his side.

he flinches, groans. “don’t touch me.”

“it’s ten thirty.”

“i’m asleep.”

“you’re talking.”

“sleep talking. stop flirting with me.”

you roll your eyes fondly. “get up, braid-boy.”

he cracks one eye open, all sleepy lashes and morning puff. “say that again and i’m breaking up with you.”

you crawl closer, lips brushing his temple. “get up. braid. my. hair.”

he stares at you for a long, suspicious second.

then sighs, dramatically. “you’re serious?”

you nod.

and now he’s sitting upright—barely—but upright, hoodie sleeve wiping at his puffy face like a child. his voice is rough and low and wholly unimpressed. “fine. but don’t blame me if you end up looking like a scarecrow.”

“i will cry.”

“you always do,” he mutters, standing up and stretching like a sleepy cat. his hoodie lifts again. you stare. you’re only human.

you grab your brush and sit cross-legged on the floor, facing away from him. “you’re going to regret saying yes when i post this on instagram with the caption; ‘my boyfriend is a hairstylist now.’”

from behind you.. “post that and i’m deleting your animal crossing island in your sleep.”

you gasp. “that’s evil.”

he plops down behind you, cross-legged, his knees brushing yours. his fingers skim your shoulder blades as he gathers your hair in his palms.

“you’re evil,” he murmurs, and somehow it sounds loving.

your breath catches.

there’s something about the way his fingers move through your hair—careful, cautious, reverent. jeongin is often clumsy with affection, never sure what to do with the way he feels things. but now? with your head bowed, his hands sifting through strands like wind through grass?

it’s almost reverent.

almost sacred.

“you’re being weirdly gentle,” you mumble.

“shut up. your hair’s delicate. like a baby angel’s.”

you snort. “i’m going to vomit.”

“you asked for this.”

his fingers begin to work—slowly, hesitantly. a tug here. a curse there.

you feel his knuckles brush your scalp, his thumbs press against your crown.

it’s quiet, but not heavy.

your eyes close.

you breathe in: the crisp cotton of his hoodie. the faint smell of coffee from the kitchen. the feel of his breath ghosting the back of your neck.

then:

“ow—jeongin!”

“you moved!”

“i breathed.”

“well, breathe quieter.”

you twist around just enough to glare at him. “you are insufferable.”

he meets your eyes, lips twitching. “and yet, you’re letting me braid your precious princess hair.”

you frown. cross your arms. sulk.

jeongin pauses.

“oh no,” he says flatly. “the pout’s out. god save us.”

you jut your bottom lip farther out.

he groans, head dropping against your shoulder. “you’re going to milk this forever, aren’t you?”

you nod, slowly.

he laughs softly into your shoulder. “god, i’m in love with an actual cartoon character.”

you whisper, teasing, “you love me.”

he breathes, “so much it makes me stupid.”

and he doesn’t say it like a confession. he says it like it’s already been written somewhere in the sky, like it’s just fact. like “the sun rises,” or “your hair always gets stuck to his hoodie,” or “you make him soft without trying.”

you swallow.

your pout melts.

you whisper, “then make it pretty.”

he smiles. “always.”

and he keeps braiding.

the rest is gentle chaos.

he loses a strand. swears. starts over. pulls too tight. apologizes. yells at the hair. tells it to behave. tells your hair to behave.

you nearly cry laughing.

he finishes eventually.

“it’s awful,” he says, smug.

you glance at the mirror. it’s crooked. a little lumpy. possibly about to fall apart.

you beam. “it’s perfect.”

he rolls his eyes. “you’re such a liar.”

you grab his hoodie and yank him toward you. “no. i’m in love.”

he blinks. all that sass melts from his face like butter in sun.

“i—”

you press your forehead to his, breath tangled. “you don’t have to say it back.”

he does, of course.

“but i do. and i'm in love with you, too.”

you’re still turned toward him, knees touching, the scent of his hoodie weaving its way through your senses like thread through needle. the room hums with the afterglow of laughter, the kind that’s still stitched into the corners of your cheeks, still warming the undersides of your ribs.

you giggle—forehead brushing his, your breath ghosting between the spaces where his lashes flutter.

soft.

sacred.

“it is really good,” you whisper, like it’s a secret meant for no one but him. “you should become a hairstylist—”

and suddenly, he moves.

not away.

toward you.

he grabs your wrists with gentle fingers, tugging you forward so fast your balance tips. a startled squeak leaves your lips as you tumble into his chest, all cotton warmth and steady heartbeat, your hands pressed flat against the soft fabric of his hoodie, your nose bumping against his collarbone.

he laughs.

of course he laughs—rich and golden and boyish, like the sound of sunlight finding a windchime. you’re still gathering breath, blinking up at him, when his arms wrap around you—tight but not suffocating, possessive in the softest way. like a secret folded into a sweater. like a kiss that already happened, even before lips met.

“don’t—” you breathe, muffled into his hoodie, “ambush me.”

“you were being cute,” he murmurs, somewhere near your hairline. his voice is velvet and sin. “i couldn’t help it.”

“warn me next time—”

“nope,” he says, smiling into your scalp, “i like this method.”

and then—he pulls back just enough to see your face.

his fingers curl beneath your jaw. his thumb brushes a stray hair behind your ear. your breath hitches—because his eyes, usually full of mockery and sass, are now soft. unsharpened. like dusk settling into the horizon.

“say it again,” he smirks.

you blink. “say what?”

“that it’s good. the braid.”

you roll your eyes, pretending your heart isn’t melting like butter on a stovetop. “you’re really fishing for validation, huh?”

“i braided human hair for the first time. i deserve a grammy.”

“that’s not how that works—”

he silences your teasing with a kiss.

gentle.

melting.

a touch of lips that feels like a promise made without language.

you don’t realize your hands have slid up to his shoulders, your fingers curling into the warm dip where his neck meets hoodie. his skin is soft there. familiar. yours.

the kiss deepens—not in pressure, but in emotion. it stretches long, like honey poured slow. like time forgot to tick forward.

and when he pulls back, it’s only enough to whisper, “thank you.”

you tilt your head. “for what?”

“for letting me touch your hair.”

you blink, thrown off by the sincerity.

his grin is lopsided, his thumb still drawing lazy circles into your skin. “it’s… i don’t know. it feels like… trust.”

you go silent.

because it is.

because he gets it.

and that’s how you know—really know—you’re in love. with him.

you lean forward and rest your forehead against his again, both of you folded in like an origami heart—quiet, intricate, impossible to untangle.

“i love you, you know,” you whisper.

he hums. smirks. presses another kiss to your nose like punctuation. “i know.”

then adds, smug, “you love my braid skills and my face. admit it.”

you groan. “you ruined it.”

he snickers, pulling you closer again, your braid getting smooshed between your shoulders and his hoodie.

“baby.”

“what?”

“you’re stuck with me.”

you grin against his shoulder. “yeah. i know.”

and the world, for one small moment, feels like a soft pillow, a warm hoodie, and the safest arms to ever exist.

𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑛𝘵 𝘵𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘵 ୨ৎ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @shotngun @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan @its-stayville-forever @ashtxrie @minlixyaoi @shuuporanglinos @bobaluvzz @inlovewithstraykids @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie @mhluvie @channieschocco @m-325 @my-neurodivergent-world @unbel1ve4ble @cowboylikemalika @jeonginsbaee @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes — fill out this form to be added !!

comments, likes, asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! req. are officially closed till the month of june. thank you for reading, hope you liked it <3 © heartsbyani, dearmini '25 ★

[zzencat]

A Peek Into Your Future Person’s Midnight Thoughts (NSFW) - Timeless ⏳

From left to right. It’s the one you can’t take your eyes off of.

Batman wouldn’t get this info out of ‘em. What are they thinking about when they text you good night? These are the fantasies they’re too shy to share. No spiritual identities were revealed. (Minors DNI)

Note: This does not necessarily have to align with your kinks. This is what your future person wishes they could do to you.

Must do before you choose: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. You may now begin.

——————————-

Pile 1. ‘Yeah? Say that again. I dare you.’

straight up strength kink. trapping you between their arms (thank you kim mingyu for the inspo and energy)

you could share a (huge) height difference with this person and it makes them want to protect you

they either have a muscular build or are very much taller than you. a lot of fs in this pile have both. especially working out the arms.

they like to see you feisty so that they have a reason to conquer yo ass

HEAVILY thinks about pushing you against a wall (a beige-colored wall, in particular) in a hotel room and fucking you against it

the type of person to edge you so much that you start crying

this person may have given you hints or will you give signs of their kinks before, so you will get the idea that they have a brat taming kink

will purposefully try to piss you off to get you all hotheaded and feisty. they really want to test your limits so that you “try” and “teach them a lesson” or “intimidate them” with a finger to their chest and everything—like “just bc you’re bigger than me doesn’t mean you can keep pissing me off.” it’s laughable for them bc this is what they wanted. they’ll let this build up for a little more, keep trying to rile you up…UNTIL it explodes and they finally show you who’s really in charge. you may or may not of like this but you’ll be blushing like crazy lmfao

they tend to go for types that are too easy to overpower physically. it’s even cuter if you’re shorter than them and very obviously can’t take them down

fantasizes about holding you down/keeping you stationed while going down on you

this person might be hairy. think of a human to werewolf transformation. a good 50% of you will encounter someone completely clean shaven, sophisticated looking, keeps composure so damn well, but has reallllly freaky desires and fantasies. you wouldn’t be able to tell. the hints are subtle tho and will come up in their everyday actions towards you. (example: cleaning up after you or watching out for you, holding you close when a stranger approaches…i’ll add more in the points of interest 🤧)

holy shit…listen, if this is a sibling of someone you know, they’ll def fantasize abt fucking you with said sibling(s)/family members around, sneaking around the family house, doing it in risky places and times (have mercy!!!) — ex: cupping your mouth while they go down on you or tease you like “you don’t want them to find out, do you? keep quiet for me”

they’d love to hold your jaw in place and make you look at them while they pleasure you

wouldn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed for making you moan too loud. if youre at an event, they get off on people hearing you — doesn’t matter if your parents or the elderly hear it

this person really gets off on the idea of having sex in public. they’re a true exhibitionist :)

(expanding off my previous point) most of the fs in this pile don’t get…jealous?? like very “look but don’t touch” type of person when it comes to you; they know people don’t dare to compete with them. this person is very confident in where they stand in your life. if you ever suggest bringing in someone to watch you guys, they would be okay with the idea. now, a very small percentage are extremely possessive in this pile, but the idea is the same. i’m not ignoring them but only mentioning them slightly bc the small percentage want you to at least be aware that they’re capable of feeling extreme possessiveness (reminder: not the same as jealousy). as long as people know that you guys are together (and it’s been made obvious) and don’t try to cross the line or make passes at you, pile 1 fs is confident enough and typically doesn’t feel the need to prove more

^^ but i will say that some subtle signs of jealousy include trying to look superior to other “threats” to your relationship

stay with me now. they fantasize about you trying your best- whatever that means ?!?! bc of the height difference, if you get sassy with them or even get annoyed at them, all they do is just smirk and make it known that you’re just a doll to them (to keep it very vague w you).

honestly this person would be down to take you anywhere. for some reason, they always want people to know you guys are fucking so they think about doing it in public a lot. this person could work on just simply having nice slow sensual sex in the bedroom tho. i think it’s just cuz they crave the thrill and it’s a fat ego boost. but cmon…it’s nice to just have some chill loving sex once in a while (i’m nudging their spirit abt it)

you guys could be TOTAL opposites and have an enemy-to-lovers trope going on. OR extremely similar feisty, fiery personalities. some people here have a fwb or ewb kind of relationship w them already OR one of you has fantasized abt it

they could honestly give you a whole list of what they like and want to do to you but would rather show you (they’re pretty impatient). they need to know you’re wanting- no- craving the same thing- that you want them as much as they want you

points of interest: teasing to NO end (in bed and out); has a habit of calling you pet names (even when not in a relationship w you) or nicknames; tall; height difference; possible mbti: very VERY estp, entj, a tiny bit of estj vibes; your front or back against the wall; take you down - chris brown; backshots; hands behind head, “try it. i dare you”; “you’re not that strong” (idk who- either you or your person says this in hopes to rile the other up); tickle fights or play fighting that leads to…other things 😏; a friend’s sibling, unexpected or forbidden relationships; going down on you in a closet at a family vacation home (?!?! damn)

——————

Pile 2. ‘Treat me like your doll.’

you or this person could be a switch, but regardless, you will have many chances to take charge

the bondage is too obvious in this pile. they also may have body image issues

this person could be sub-leaning tbh. probably struggles making eye contact with you during the deed or just in general (w/ you or people)

wants to please you and be used by you

masochistic as hell

someone here struggles with very obvious self esteem issues, but through this relationship and learning how to trust and be vulnerable, you will both heal each other on a deeeeeply emotional level. you will make this person feel comfortable in what they fantasize about and this will be reciprocated

for some in this pile, like a good 45% of people, your fs may have dealt with sexual guilt growing up. (for a second, i felt like saying more but it’s safer for me to keep it vague for their sake.) this is reallll vague, so i’ll try to word it more carefully…the guilt can come from a plethora of things…

yk what would be beneficial for them? if you pleasured them while making them look in the mirror

this person is pretty shy with expressing their sexual desires. for many, this could be their first time, or just extremely inexperienced (but they feel embarrassed to admit that)

listen, the emotional sex will be insane. crying, lots of love—if you’re into dacryphilia, this will be your jam

trust is so important for them. also looking at each other’s eyes while going at it

deep long kisses that fade into sloppier, more desperate and needy ones (coming from more of their side)

idk how to explain this kink but it’s like…getting off to something you can’t have? they’d feel guilty about touching themselves to the thought of you (during the time you’re not yet dating each other) and that mental image would spiral into picturing you standing in front of them and just watching them get off to you while they’re on their knees. they see you as someone to be worshipped. they’ll be begging and possibly crying for you to let them cum

yk the deeper i dig into this, the more emotional it gets. i think this person is a huge people pleaser and has found it hard to be loved in this life time. but no worries, bc this relationship will help you both connect and become vulnerable. as long as you’re confident in yourself and carry a normal to high self esteem, you should be great in the relationship

mommy/daddy kink (it doesn’t mention who will be what but it’s def gonna be something they’ll be shy to confess), loves praise, collars (being collared), being your pet

this person would thank you for touching them. they could get pretty poetic in bed when edged for hours and under so much exposure

they def have the ability to be more dominant, but you’d really have to reel it out of them; they’re afraid of messing up

on the other hand, degradation will work wonders on them as long as you soothe those wounds later. praise and degradation will change this person’s life lmfao, as long as your timing is right

they’ll touch themselves thinking about soft and sensual, sensitive and teasing sexual acts, like mutual masturbation or if you use your hand to get them off while peppering their jaw with kisses

very sensitive person so their has to be a lot of trust between you to unlock the…freakier stuff (which is why i’ll cut it short. this is all they’re giving you for now 😎🤚)

points of interest: pinkie promises, very in tune with their feminine energy, “you’ll be here forever, right?”, very soft person with an insane sex drive, shy, doesn’t ask for much- just wants you to be there with them, quietly existing, kinda reminds me of those emo kids who date and kiss in the corner (but you guys will be engaging in no such cringe, esp not in public), shyly clings onto your hand, HOODIES hoodies hoodies, cool toned filters on pictures, matching clothes or accessories- i’m getting one person has a lock and the other with a key, collars with a heart on it, likes when someone gets possessive over them, will unintentionally spill their thoughts and ideas and then apologizes for rambling…i feel like a lot of you in this pile relate to them a lot…like very similar in personality or smth…lot of similarities (even subtle or suppressed parts of your personality), i really don’t think you’d be able to tell they’re a secret freak (maybe thru the way they dress but by personality, prob not), very artistic people- whatever art form they love or seek comfort from, you will find this very attractive and unique

- very small note: i realize that i don’t feel the need to correct the commas and make them semi-colons to show the list. i think it’s their energy being very forgiving and that they don’t care if you mess up (lowkey it’s bc they’re used to being hurt 😞). very unlikely to call out your mistakes. they just want you to be there with them, to love them of their flaws. they will undoubtedly do the same. they just don’t want you to leave them.

———————

Pile 3. If you look at them, you’ll laugh.

ok right of the bat, you guys are unarguably the most “nontoxic”, healthy, but also vanilla relationship out of the piles 😂😂

this person doesn’t have too many crazy ideas or thoughts when they think about sex tbh. they also don’t watch porn or at least are not addicted to it. very vanilla person with a normal sex drive

they prob get off like once or twice a day but sex to them is a bonding activity with you filled with laughter and some jokes (which both of you could work on if you want to ever engage in more kinky and dark stuff, esp since it could be hard for you to get serious and in the mood)

^^ like if you’re being handcuffed and you’re ticklish, this person will tickle you (unless you like this being done, it could mess with the sensual moment a bit 😅)

very gentle person. thinks about caressing your body

very affectionate and wants to tend to your needs. the last thing they want to do is have you in tears after sex (unless it’s happy tears)

they’re mostly serious with sex when they’re touching themselves alone (if you’re not physically there)

if you’re doing long distance, they’ll wait to have sex w you rather than touch themselves

don’t get me wrong yk they’re down to doing the freaky stuff too- but i think you guys are so in the “best friends” laughing with each other all the time, it could get unserious real quick 😂😂 if you’re okay with that, things should be ok for you 👍

open to engaging in all sorts of kinks and sexual fun, but they prefer it to be with you and not with another person involved. not that theyre judgmental of it, they just don’t want to have sex with others watch you guys or having another person/people involved. they prefer it to just be the 2 of you

so much laughing, too many good vibes, they’re completely enamored by you

you could share a similar personality to each other, but weirdly, without disrupting the balance

just touching your skin and cuddling for hours = sex for them

points of interest: EXTREMELY LOYAL; can’t see anyone in this world but you; loves what you think are your flaws; massaging your feet; caressing your body fat; will go wherever you want to go and they’d plan the trip too if you’d like; very kind person—so nice that they could try to help everyone- they don’t look at these as bad things at all; animal person; they’re as warm as they look; it would take a long time to piss this person off bc they’re that understanding; they could come off as too positive and naive tho, if you’re like “don’t you see that person was trying to scam you?” and they’d shrug, pull you close with a grin and be like “it’s okay. they probably needed that money. i don’t mind 🙂‍↔️”, very precious soul, not into polygamous relationships

—————-

Teddy Note: Sorry guys I forgot my little ending speech so I’m going back to add it here- THANK YOU for taking the time to read this. I hope your day is going smoothly and if not, no worries, we got tomorrow. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. I love that saying when any reader says it. Energy can seriously follow you if you dwell on it too much, while thinking about it negatively. Again, thanks for joining me on my readings if you’re new here :)

Have a good one guys. Teddy out 😎👍👍

[4unnyr0se]

Could we get an nsfw with hinata shoyo (28) 😙

❥ que linda | shoyo hinata

warnings: timeskip! hinata, brazil! hinata, fem! reader, unprotected sex, ts! hinata has a massive dick bc i said so, male masturbation, couch sex, pining, he whimpers so much you guys, hinata speaks portuguese because i said so, cunnilingus, virgin! hinata, virginity loss, he lowkey rich asf, not proofread

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 4.3k

a/n: this work was loosely inspired by pin-k-ink's "mania". any plot relations are coincidental. please read her writing, it's good!

happy 28th birthday hinata!! short king

Shoyo Hinata was homesick, incredibly so. Being on a very popular Brazilian volleyball team was worth it: the beach, the sand, the fame, the paycheck. Hinata had fun; there was absolutely no doubt about it. He loved his teammates and hanging out with Oikawa on the beach but longed for Miyagi. He longed for the serene countryside. He longed for his friends who had gone on to other prospects. Sure, some of them stuck around, like Daichi and Sugawara, and he missed them too. But there was one person he missed that Hinata practically craved.

You and Hinata grew close during high school, especially during the third year. You and Yachi were co-managers of the volleyball team, and things went incredibly smoothly. Karasuno went to nationals each year until Hinata and the rest of the third year graduated. Because you were a manager, you worked with Kageyama and Hinata on their quick attacks. In contrast, Yachi worked with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi (Yachi was the only one who could handle Tsukishima’s attitude; she grew up when Kiyoko left.) Hinata loved that you were his manager because he had a little crush on you. You were one of the few people who didn’t underestimate him because of his height, nor made fun of him for not being the sharpest knife in the drawer. He would often stare at you for extended periods as you gave the beginning-of-practice briefing, admiring every aspect of your face. The color of your eyes, the way you styled your hair. To Hinata, you were perfection. He only wished he asked you out during high school before he was scouted by the Black Jackals; that was one of his few regrets from his school days. 

Soon enough, once the volleyball season in Brazil ended, he had much spare time. Sure, there was practice and things to do for publicity and media, but he could do that whenever he wanted. Hinata decided to book a flight back to Miyagi the first chance he got, arranging to stay at a hotel just outside the central part of the city. It was a two-week trip with a round ticket back to Brazil, which was just enough time to ensure he would see you at least once. He would visit his other friends, obviously. It would be cruel of him not to. But Hinata did have a favorite, and it was you. Pretty, perfect, beautiful you. He couldn’t wait to get off the plane and tell you he was in town. He just couldn’t.

Hinata flopped onto his hotel bed, breathing in the fresh linen scent. He missed the smell of Miyagi, how it almost always smelled like freshly cut grass. The windows were wide open, and the summertime crickets and cicadas filled an otherwise silent room. He adorned a massive smile, taking off his shirt to let his body breathe. He didn’t have your number; no one on Karasuno’s previous register had it, not since the Nishinoya incident. Yachi had it, but she was no doubt asleep. Well, there was always Instagram direct message. He had a lot of followers (mostly crazy fan girls), and his messages were constantly flooded. He opted to use his secret personal account, which boasted a very proud 23 followers. Hinata searched for your name, found your profile, and hit the message button.

He bit down on his lip, his calloused thumbs hovering over the keypad. How should he type this? He didn’t want to come off as too desperate, even though he wanted to see you again so badly he felt like a heroin addict. The little profile circle taunted him, proudly displaying your happy, smiling face and achingly perfect lips. 

The opposite hitter shrugged his shoulders and hastily typed out a message, adding cute little smiley face emojis. Hinata groaned as he sent the message, shutting off his phone. What if you thought it was weird that he wanted to meet up so soon? Or even worse, what if you had a boyfriend? Not that he wanted to try anything, right? That would be stupid. It’s not like he wants you under him, moans escaping your pretty mouth as he thrusts in and out of your perfect pussy, claiming you as his all night long…right? He wasn’t a pervert, no way. He just wanted you to be his and only his, his hickeys decorating your neck…fuck. Hinata gazed down at his pants, rolling his eyes in annoyance as he saw the newly-formed tent in his grew sweats. 

“Eh, it’ll go away in a bit,” he mumbled, rolling over to check his phone. His heart stopped in his chest once he saw your name appear on his screen. Holy shit.

Your reply was short and sweet, telling him to come for lunch tomorrow. You told him your address and even added a cute little heart emoji. Were you trying to fucking kill him? Hinata shut off his phone again and breathed out, the tent in his sweats growing painfully harder by the second. He wishes he could show you how you made him feel, what you did to him, and his virgin cock.

Yeah, he was a virgin. He just didn’t have time to fool around that much. Volleyball took up much of his time and obligatory social events like media conferences and charity work. He got close once. But she stopped when he told her that he was a virgin. Maybe you would be more forgiving. You were always so kind.

Hinata pulled down his sweats along with his boxers, his cock eagerly springing out and slapping against this bare chest. He shivered as his hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, slowly pumping up and down. His hazelnut brown eyes were squeezed shut as he imagined his hand was yours, all tiny and dainty, pumping up and down on his shaft. How your thumb would rub the tip of his cock, that tongue of yours giving him the tiniest little kitten licks before returning to fucking your fist. Fuck, would his cock even be able to fit in that cute palm of yours?

A deep moan left his chapped lips as he found himself propped up against the wooden headboard, desperately fisting his cock. Precum oozed out of the tip and coated his shaft, the lubrication making it all the more sweet. His mind was clouded with the thought of your pussy slamming down on his length over and over again, the greedy cunt taking his fat cock so well. He wondered if you would flutter around him, how deep you would let him fuck you.

“Fuck, just like that baby,” Hinata moaned, his cock thrusting into his hand impossibly fast. His orgasm would hit any second now. “Fucking this pussy ‘cus it’s mine, yeah? My fuckin’ pussy, my girl,” he bit down on his bottom lip. “Did ya think that since I’ma virgin, I can’t fuck you good? Y’thought wrong, pretty baby-oh fuck.” Hinata’s breath caught in his throat as his cum covered his hand and shaft, glistening in the light of the hotel.  “Shit.”

He grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and cleaned himself off, tossing the spent tissue in the waste basket nearby. “I gotta work on lasting longer…” he mumbled, growing sleepy as nirvana slowly overtook him. He laid his head on the fluffy pillow, setting his alarm for the next morning. He slept with his mostly unpacked bags, eager for what tomorrow would hold. 

That alarm was the prettiest thing Hinata would ever hear because it meant that today was the day he could finally go to your house and see you. He practically jumped out of bed, plastering a huge smile on his freckled face. He wore a simple outfit, mainly because that was all he could hastily back on such an in-the-heat-of-the-moment decision. A black compression shirt with jeans was simple. He grew fond of the compression style when Boktuo showed it during his time on the Black Jackals. Hinata had to admit: he looked damn good in black. Especially since the shirt showed off the abs he worked so hard on building. He donned designer sunglasses and took the elevator downstairs, whistling a happy tune like in some old 1950s bubbly cartoon.

He enjoyed the stroll from the hotel to the town where you lived, waving to those who recognized him from his time spent on the Black Jackals. A few tweens asked for a picture, which he happily agreed to. Hinata loved meeting and interacting with his fans when they weren’t desperate fangirls just trying to get into his pants. They flattered him, but he couldn’t sleep with his fans. That was Oikawa’s business. 

The sun beamed down on his broad shoulders as he finally entered your neighborhood, practically skipping along the burning hot pavement. In retrospect, he should have worn something other than cheap flip-flops. He didn’t care. He was too damn happy to see you again. He would walk across a desert barefoot if it meant he could hang out with you, even if only for five minutes. After a bit, Hinata turned the corner to where your townhouse was. It was quaint and tiny, with a well-kept lawn and a little garden with various colorful flowers under the window. The marigolds caught his eye in particular, mainly because they weren’t native to Japan. He wondered if they were expensive or if someone bought them for you. Hinata tched at the sight of the yellow flowers, growing strangely annoyed at them. He could spoil you more than any man ever could.

Walking up the steps, he felt the nervous sensation of butterflies filling his stomach. He knew you would be so welcoming and open to him—you always have been. It was one of the several things he liked, no, loved about you. His calloused and tanned hand knocked on the beautifully painted wooden door, his foot tapping nervously on the concrete steps that led up to it. 

All his worries vanished instantly once he saw your gorgeous face poke out from behind the door, offering him a bright and welcoming smile. “Oh my god, Shoyo! It’s been so long, come on in!” you laughed, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Hinata’s hands found the small of your back, gently caressing the thin fabric of your baby tee. “I missed you,” you softly spoke, squeezing his muscular torso with all your might.

After a bit, Hinata pulled away from the hug, finding the sun blaring on his back a welcome but annoying presence. You led him inside and ushered him to sit on your couch, ensuring everything was right. “Oh, did you want something to drink? I know you walked here. I’m sorry. I should have just called a cab…” you rubbed your temple, mumbling swear words under your breath as you waltzed into your kitchen. “Shoyo, honey, do you want lemonade or ginger ale? I also have diet sodas!”

Hinata choked on nothing as you called him honey, covering it up with a cough. “U-uh, lemonade is fine! Thanks!” he massaged his throat, the tips of his ears turning faintly pink. Shit, if you were gonna keep calling him sweet words all day, it would only be a matter of time until he was pinning your hands above your head and making you see stars. At least, that’s what he hoped to achieve. He didn’t want just anyone to be his first. He wanted it to be you.

He thanked you for the lemonade, admiring the taste, and brought the cup to his lips. “Oh wow, this is really good. What brand is it?”

“Oh, I made it myself,” you smiled crookedly.

“Even better,” Hinata winked, unaware of what he was doing. “It’s been so long since I’ve had good lemonade, you know? Don’t get me wrong, their drinks in Brazil are amazing, but nothing can ever really beat lemonade.”

“What’s Brazil like?” you innocently asked, scooting further down the couch closer to Hinata. “I haven’t left the country.”

Hinata set the glass of lemonade on the coffee table. “Oh, it’s beautiful. It’s so tropical and lovely, and the locals love me. But that’s just because I play for their team,” he chuckled. “The language was tough to learn at first, but I eventually got the hang of it.”

“I’ll bet. Portuguese sounds like a hard language to learn,” you cross your arms over your chest, inadvertently pushing your breasts together. The baby tee you wore was cut just right to show off a bit of your cleavage, which drove Hinata wild. He would have pounced on you if he had been more immature and ripped that shirt clean. He could always buy you a new one. 

“It’s actually kind of pretty,” he smiled, tapping his fingers against the couch.

“Can you say something in Portuguese?” your eyes sparkle with curiosity, leaning towards Hinata. “Pretty please? I wanna know what it sounds like.”

Fuck. You looked so damn pretty like that, so eager for him. Hinata paused for a moment, opening his mouth. “Eu acho você incrivelmente linda. Você me deixa louco.” Hinata smirked to himself. It was the perfect plan. He could say whatever he wanted, and you would have no idea what it meant.

“What does that mean?” you tilted your head to the side, your hair falling out of its braid. 

Hinata reached for your braid and pushed the loose strands behind your ear. “Uh, it means I like your shirt.” he nodded in mock assurance. 

“Oh wow, that’s a pretty long sentence for just a compliment,” you took a sip of your lemonade, leaving lipgloss on the glass brim. “I guess it’s just a different language. Can you say something else?”

Hinata nodded and subtly wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Uh, this is a traditional Brazilian custom for when you’re seeing someone for the first time in a while.” he glanced down at your eyes, wanting to swim in them.

“Eu preciso te foder,” he mumbled in a low tone. “Tenho desejado que você seja meu primeiro desde nosso terceiro ano.” his thumb brushed across your lower lip.

“Shoyo…?” you questioned, looking up at him with confused eyes. “You’re acting different…did something happen in Brazil?”

Hinata shook his head. “Nothing bad happened to me,” he pulled his thumb away. “I just matured, I guess.”

“And you got taller,” you squeaked, paying extra attention to how his compression shirt showed off his toned and muscular body. “A-and, uh, more buff. Your girlfriend must be lucky.” your voice trailed off, your eyes deciding to focus on the lemonade glasses. 

Hinata shook his head. “I don’t have a girlfriend. I didn’t want one when I played during the season. My coach says it would be a bad idea.” his eyes never left your blushing face. “So, I guess we’re both single.”

“I guess so,”

He thought for a moment. “Do you want to know what I just said in Portuguese?” he heard you mumble in agreement. “I said,” he bent down to reach your ear level. “I need to fuck you. I’ve wanted you to be my first since our third year.”

Your pupils blew out as his words reverberated in your ears, your thighs squeezing together. Was this the same Shoyo Hinata that you went to high school with? “Shoyo,” you breathed, gasping slightly as he quickly pulled you into his lap.

“Please,” he whispered, lazily trailing kissed down your cheek and onto your neck. “You don’t know how badly I missed you, pretty girl.” he stopped his wet kisses, squeezing your hips. “Didn’t stop thinking about you for a second. You’re always on my mind.”

“Fuck, Shoyo,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing your chest against his own. “Have you really been thinking about me like that?”

“You have no fucking idea,” he moaned into your neck, nipping at your flesh. “I fucked my fist to the thought of you so many times. I can’t even get off unless I imagine it’s you.” he groaned as you ground down onto his lap. His lips brushed against yours, aching to taste that gloss. “Please, be my first. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You shuddered. “Okay,” 

Hinata’s eyes roared with a passionate fire as he claimed your lips instantly, the kiss being wild and untamed. You gasped, parting your lips, allowing Hinata’s tongue to delve inside your mouth, happily exploring every inch shamelessly. His hands wandered down to your ass. Any restraint he had melted away as he took a nice handful of your ass, squeezing it roughly. Your hands found purchase in his unkempt red hair, tugging on any curl you could manage.

He groaned into your mouth, slapping your ass shamelessly. “Fuck, keep doing that,” he commanded, biting down mercilessly on those perfectly plump lips. You whined in agreement, tugging harshly on one strand near the crown of his head. He trailed sloppy, wet kisses down your neck until he found the spot that made you squeal so nicely. His teeth sank onto the skin, sucking it like a starving vampire until an ugly purple bruise began to bloom. 

His hands picked you off of his lap and threw you to the other side of the wide couch, his muscular body quickly crowding around you as his lips crashed against yours once more in a scorching, desperate onslaught. “Please,” he whimpered against your lips. “Please let me fuck you, baby. I gotta know how it feels.” his hands slipped past the hem of your leggings, massaging your clothed core. “D’ya want me to do something down here, hm? Tell me what y’want, please. Lemme make you feel good.”

“Shoyo,” you kissed his cheek, bucking your hips onto his palm. “Can y’finger me, please? Wan’ feel your tongue.”

Holy fuck, Hinata could cum just from your words. He eagerly nodded and pulled his hand from your core, the slightest hint of slick on his fingertips. “Take that shit off right now,” he demanded, his cock painfully hard underneath his jeans. 

You scrambled off of the couch, tossing your leggings and panties aside. Fuck, you were wearing pretty orange ones today, too. Did you plan that? He wondered if your bra was orange as well. “And take that top off. Lemme see those tits.” 

His hands reached up and ripped your shirt off, exposing your pretty orange bra for him. Hell yes, he was right. “Shit,” Hinata groaned, biting down on his lower lip. “Now, the bra, please. I wanna see my pretty girl's tits.”

You giggled in response, unclasping your bra from behind. It dropped to the floor, revealing you in all of your naked glory. You sat back on the couch and spread your legs, propping yourself up with your elbows. The sight of your glistening heat drove Hinata mad, he just had to get a taste.

“I wanna see you too,” you begged, your eyes sparkling. “I wanna see what all that time in Brazil turned you into.”

He happily obliged, taking a moment to remove his compression shirt and jeans. They were tossed aside on the coffee table, making a mess. Hinata proudly displayed himself for you, tan lines, and everything. He was sculpted like a Greek god, and the freckles across his body added to his beauty. “D’ya like what you see?” he flexed his bicep.

“So fucking much,” you felt yourself get wetter at the sight. “Please, Shoyo, c’mere and make me feel good with your tongue. I-I can teach you if you want.”

“Fucking please,” Hinata groaned, kneeling between your legs while using his strong arms to hold them apart. “You’re fucking dripping for me, y’know that? Did you want this as badly as I did, pretty girl?” he kissed your inner thigh.

You nodded. “Yeah, so fucking much. D’ya know how to eat pussy?”

“I did once,” Hinata spoke against your other thigh, kissing it. “I was really good at it for a virgin.”

“Shoyo,” you whimpered. “Stop talking now and eat my pussy.”

“Yes, ma’am, whatever you want,” his cock twitched in his boxers. Did he like being told what to do? He buried his face in between your legs, eagerly lapping at your folds. He flattened his tongue so expertly that it was apparent he had done this more than once. His tongue made rapid zig-zagging motions across your fold, stopping to happily suck at your clit. Your hands again flung to his hair, the orange curls nestling between your fingers.

“Shoyo, fuck!” you cried, arching your back into the couch.

“Fuck baby, if you say my name like that, I’m gonna cum in my boxers,” he mumbled into your pussy, snickering as you let out another pornographic moan. Hinata became frenzied, lapping and sucking and licking at anything he could. He began spelling his name with the tip of his tongue, which he knew you liked because you came on his tongue moments after he finished spelling ‘S-H-O-Y-O.’

“Fuck,” his mouth glistened with your release. He tugged his boxers down to his ankles, letting his throbbing cock smack against his hard abs. “Do you have a condom?”

“N-no,” you shook, still coming down from your high.

“Can I fuck you without one? I’ll buy you the morning-after pill,” he was so desperate he was shaking. Holy fuck, it was finally happening. He was about to lose his virginity to you. 

“Fuck, Shoyo!” you whined in annoyance. “Just fuck me already, we can talk about this after!”

Hell, he didn’t need to be told that twice. His hands caged you into his body, your legs being pushed up against your chest. The throbbing tip of his cock prodded at your entrance, precum leaking from the tip. Hinata hissed as he pushed himself in, relishing in how your pussy tried so hard to take his massive girth. “Holy shit, you’re so fucking tight. M-maybe I, fuck, maybe I should have fingered you or something.”

“You’re so fucking huge,” you whimpered, your hands scratching at his toned back as you struggled to take his size. “Holy fuck, you’ve been concealing that monster for how long?”

“For a while, baby,” he sighed as he finally bottomed out, his cockhead brushing against your cervix. “Fuck, I can’t hold back. I’m sorry, pretty girl,” Hinata hooked your legs under his arms and pulled his cock almost out before slamming it back inside you again, earning a delicious shriek of pleasure from your lips. 

“So. Fucking. Tight.” he punctuated his words with a thrust, his balls slapping against the cleft of your ass as he drilled his length into you. The front of his thighs met the back of yours over and over again, creating a beautiful melody. “‘Been wanting this f’so fucking long, oh my God.” his head was tossed back, nostrils flaring each time your gummy walls sucked him deeper inside. 

Your entire body was trembling as Hinata used you like a human fleshlight, ruining your cunt for anyone else for a while. Was he really a virgin, or did he fuck like this because he had too much energy? Your hair created the perfect messy halo above your head, your mouth slightly agape with the constant wanton moans being ripped from your chest. 

His blazing brown eyes landed at the sight of your bouncing tits, his hand roughly grabbing one. His thumb ran over the pert nipple, squeezing it. “There are my fuckin’ tits, m’gonna mark them later.”

Hinata choked back a whimper as he was on the ledge of his climax, his hips moving like they had a mind of their own. His breathing was erratic, chest falling up and down as his cock twitched deep inside your cunt. “Shit, m’gonna fucking cum inside of you. Take it all, fucking take it.” he let out a strangled gasp as he painted your walls white with his seed, gasping sharply. 

“Oh fuck,” his head was thrown back, his hips slowly fucking the rest of his orgasm into you. “Oh my god,” Hinata’s face was so incredibly flushed, the baby hairs sticking to his forehead. 

The opposite hitter let go of your legs and collapsed on top of you, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Y’okay?” he grumbled, squeezing your breast. 

“I’m fine, Shoyo,” you breathed out, still recovering. “That was fucking incredible. Were you lying to me about being a virgin?” you raised an eyebrow in suspicion. 

“Nuh-uh,” he kissed your neck. “I was a virgin until five seconds ago. Sorry for not lasting as long as you wanted me to.”

“I actually liked it,” you rubbed his bicep. “Some guys keep going for so long that eventually it becomes painful. It only really hurt when you shoved yourself into me.”

“Sorry about that,” Hinata reached up to kiss your lips. “I was just really excited, that’s all. You know I flew here just for you, right?”

Your heart softened. “Aw, really? You missed me that much?”

He nodded. “Of course I did. I missed you ever since our last day of high school.”

“You’re such a sweetheart,” you kissed his cheek. “Hey…d’ya wanna stay with me while you’re in town instead of that crappy hotel?”

“Could I really?” his pupils were blown out. 

“Yeah, don’t be silly.” 

“I’ll go back there and get my things!” Hinata practically jumped off the couch, scrambling to get his clothes on. “Oh, uh, I’ll also get you the morning-after pill.” he chuckled, stumbling as he put his flip-flop on. 

“You’re such a dork,” you grabbed a random throw blanket and bundled yourself up, resting on a throw pillow. “But you’re cute, so it’s okay.”

“I’m your dork now,” he flashed you a smile. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Don’t miss me too much!” he walked out the door, smiling. 

Suddenly, Hinata didn’t seem so homesick anymore.

[crescenthistory]

I was reading your Animagus Reader fics and absolutely loved them so I had a little idea/request.

Regulus x Animagus!Reader where she is in her animagus form and she falls asleep in the library. It's already night and people are going to bed and so Barty wonders into the library and finds cat animagus reader, asleep and so bc he loves "his" treasure so much, he doesn't wake her up(surprisingly) and takes her back to his dorm where Regulus. Because Regulus is a spectacular boyfriend, he immediately recognizes his wonderful girlfriends animagus form and questions Barty why he has her. It's up to you how Barty responds and the entire conversation but, at some point Regulus asks for Barty to hand over reader to him and starts to whines and complains about how Regulus always hogs reader and he barely gets time with her, etc but, he even goes as far to say that he wants to cuddle with reader tonight but, Regulus gets her anyway(she is purring through this entire interaction).

Barty is also the type of friend I feel like who is cooing at her through this entire process even though she is asleep and can't hear it.

babe, i absolutely ADORE your vision for bsf!barty and his dynamic with regulus and reader. i wholeheartedly agree with the characterisation. i literally just expanded this exact take into a drabble, hope you enjoy mwah<3

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, barty pov, bsf!barty intended to be platonic but can be read ambiguously for both reader and regulus, implied background rosekiller, platonic and romantic physical affection, you're asleep through this whole fic lol, an appearance of pyro!barty

Note: as always, this is whiskers, the cat!animagus!reader i have written several fics for, starting with this one

Barty was bored. Endlessly so.

Evan and Pandora were off in Ravenclaw cooking up some potion Barty was strictly instructed to stay the hells away from. Regulus was off reading some stupid bloody paperback that Barty could swear he had seen him read before yet somehow chose to prioritise above him. And you, his favourite person, had not been seen or heard from for the past few hours. Probably off doing some studying like the swot you are, much to his chagrin. 

Barty was bored and his friends were boring.

What else could he do but go skipping down hallways until he finds something to do, then?

He had made it all the way through half of the library without finding any intriguing stimuli and he was growing jittery. With lanky fingers, he fished his muggle lighter out of his pocket and began flickering with it as he walked, eyes scanning the shelves.

There was a giddy itch rushing through him as he flicked the lighter on and off, on and off, the smell of it filling his nostrils familiarily.

Until his jumping gaze suddenly zeroed in on the one figure in the Hogwarts library that might have distracted him – a perfect treasure lying peacefully curled up on a coffee table between some settees. Whiskers, in all her white and grey fluffy glory, fast asleep with the cutest crinkled nose he could have imagined.

“There you are, kitten,” Barty cooed as his long legs sprung to action, marching towards your sleeping form. In the nearly abandoned library, he did his best to remain quiet and not wake you. He crouched in front of the table so his face was level with yours and an instinctive smile spread across his lips, one you had called soft once despite his many denials.

He reached out his right hand to scratch gently against your cheek in that spot that always had you purring, his messy stick and poke tattoos melting perfectly into your patterned fur. You heaved a dreamy sigh, nuzzling your face against Barty’s touch, still fast asleep.

“What’re you doing here, hm?” he asked despite knowing he could get no answer lest he wake you – something he refused to do.

Barty threw a quick glance to one of the many clocks scattered across the library, seeing that curfew was steadily nearing. When he went scouring for something to quell his itches, missing curfew was part of the point, but he knew that for you, this was likely a mistake. Judging by the notes strewn around you and your backpack still laying on a chair behind you that seemed to have been housing someone just a few minutes ago, you had not intended to fall asleep here. 

And even if Barty’s friends were boring, he did love the suckers, so–

“Alright, kitten, time to go home.” 

With the wave of his wand, he gathered all your belongings back into your backpack and easily slid it over his shoulders. Wearing none of the smugness one might have expected of Barty in this situation – just a small, indulging smile – Barty scooped you up into his arms. He quickly navigated your form from the table to slumping against his chest, trying to minimise the amount of movement you were subjected to, all the while making sweet noises to keep your mind tethered to its dreams.

Your feline face twitched a little, but required little more than his soothing voice and warm skin to fall back into your rest. 

Barty took a quick spin around to check if he had everything and once he was satisfied, he dropped a featherlight kiss in between your ears. “Come now, you absolute nerd. The library is no place to sleep.”

In contrast to his skipping and twirling from earlier, Barty stalked steadily through the hallways as he made his way down to the dungeons, only ever occasionally swaying you in his arms if you began to stir. He opened doors with wandless magic, at last grateful for Dorcas hounding him about practicing it so much – “you never know when you’ll need it, B” she had all but growled at him. Yeah, Cas, like when our feline friend is simply too cute to be awoken to the horrible sight of the sodding library.

Still, he was Barty Crouch Junior, so he made the stairs up to the boys’ dorm two at a time, an entirely new excitement growing in him at the thought of you sleeping over – and getting to rub his unearthed treasure in Regulus’ face.

The door opened with a creak at the flick of Barty’s wrist, and as he toed it open with his scratched up uniform shoes, Regulus’ voice already sounded through the room. “Barty? Have you seen Y/N?”

Barty turned around to shoulder the door open instead, so that his back was towards Regulus under the preface of closing the door behind him. “Oh yeah, I actually saw she found herself a new bloke. Much better looking.”

By the time he turned around with a flourish – cradling you even closer to his chest to ensure you weren’t rattled by his antics – Regulus was staring at him with a deadpan that suggested he already knew this new bloke had to be Barty.

“Ha ha,” Regulus said dryly, but his expression quickly softened when his eyes landed upon your sleeping self.

He had been laid out on his bed with his head propped up by pillows, his legs crossed by the ankles and his favourite paperback resting on his stomach, but he placed it face-down on his bedsheets in favour of sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at you with a smile.

“Hi, amour. Fell asleep again?” His voice was so sweet that Barty simply had to convey his nausea through faux puking.

“She fell asleep and is still asleep thank you very much, so don’t you dare wake her with your questions,” Barty reprimanded in a low voice before turning his attention back to you. Swaying you ever so slightly, he nuzzled his face against yours, causing you to purr loudly in instinctive response. “Aren’t you the cutest when you sleep, huh kitten?” He cooed, laying it on extra thick.

“Yeah yeah, and I suppose you’re the hero for fetching her.” Regulus rolled his eyes, walking up to stand in front of Barty. He reached out a finger to stroke across your face, but Barty backed away before he could.

“Precisely,” he said with mock arrogance. “I’m the hero, so I get to cuddle with the cute cat.”

“The cute cat is my girlfriend, Junior,” Regulus drawled. “And I’ve missed her. So hand her over.”

Barty looked him up and down, grin growing disturbingly. “No. I don’t think I will. You, Black, hog her too much. Time for you to share.”

Before Regulus could reach out and catch him, Barty sidestepped the curly-haired boy and went to settle down on his own bed. Regulus huffed and stalked after him, but Barty managed to toe off his shoes and slip beneath his blankets still with you in his arms.

“Barty, you cannot be serious,” Regulus all but whined.

“No, that’s your brother.” If Regulus had rolled his eyes harder, Barty was sure they would have popped out. “I’ve missed her too and finder’s keepers. So if you’re that desperate to spend time with her, then get in.”

Barty and Evan had magically widened their beds years ago to have more comfortable sleepovers, and seeing as their third was still out with his twin sister, there was ample space for Regulus to be able to slip in beside Barty.

The other boy huffed, looking around the room as if searching for a final form of leverage. When he came up empty, he scowled at Barty before all but ripping the blankets back. “I hate you, you know.”

Barty hummed as if he couldn’t be more in agreement all the while shimmying close against Regulus once he got comfortable. 

You shifted in Barty’s arms so that your hind legs and tail curled around Regulus’ upper arm, drawing an immediate cooing sound from him that made Barty giggle. Regulus couldn’t even deign to shove his best friend for his disrespect, his grey irises seemingly glued to you. Every movement of your whiskers, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the warmth seeming to emanate off of you.

“She was in the library?” Regulus asked in a quiet voice, lithe fingers grazing up and down your sides.

“Mhm, on top of that table she likes to sit by. Overstudied, I’m sure. You two swots deserve each other.”

Regulus shook his head with a smile, leaning his weight further against Barty’s side so that he could press kisses to your hind paws. Barty was grinning down at the two of you, happy for his friends and elated at having his way.

“No. None of us deserve her.” Regulus said it matter-of-factly. At the very same time you yawned and stretched burying your head into the material of Barty’s jumper, making him coo down at you lovingly, every bit as nauseating as he accused Regulus of being.

“For once I agree with you, my sweet Reggie.”

[starsofang]

thinking about johnny being completely smitten with an extremely reserved reader <3

johnny was head over heels from the very beginning. he couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened, but maybe it was when you first joined the force. at the initial greeting, he’d struck you with one of his bright smiles, only for a blank canvas to stare in return.

you hadn’t said a word, not a peep, and while others would be turned off by such reclusiveness, he was in awe.

an enigma, you were, and johnny was someone who loved a good puzzle.

you were cold and distant, but not in the way that was cruel and unnerving. you didn’t throw out snarky comments, you didn’t show a single bit of rudeness when somebody’s ticked you off. you weren’t hard headed, nor did you pitch a fight. you were a calm sea with peaceful waves lapping at the shore. a light rain on a dry day, one where in ancient times would’ve been a blessing from the gods. as cold as snow, but the kind that layered the ground in a fresh sheet of white right after a blizzard, painting the earth with powdered beauty.

if anything, you weren’t cold at all. you were just so incredibly awkward that johnny couldn’t help but be smitten by it.

you were that type of awkward where social cues were nearly impossible for you to comprehend. jokes didn’t land quite right whenever somebody made them, and you’d give a blank look to whomever fell victim, added on with a dumb “what?” because you didn’t understand it.

johnny’s been an unfortunate victim on many occasions. he’s always the type to nudge you on the shoulder with a crooked grin as he spilled out whatever joke ghost had told him over comms, only to be met with your complete and utter confusion.

that never stopped him, though. if anything, it made him much more determined to search up more jokes on the screen of a burner phone, reading through every single one and noting them in the back of his mind.

you were also as stone-faced as could be. some theorized you were a robot, others thought you were a demon in disguse. an experiment, placed into 141 as a trial run.

really, expressing yourself just wasn’t your thing.

you felt emotions, sure. plenty of them. you could find the humor in the occasional bar night with the force, amused at the linger of carefree conversation that carried between the men. you just didn’t show it.

it wasn’t something you realized until johnny had made the point of asking you if you ever smiled. thinking back on it, you recalled never directly doing so. you’d do it in your head, but when it came down to it, no, no you didn’t.

johnny was determined when keeping a goal in mind, and found himself ruthlessly running towards that goal of seeing you smile. he was enamored in the thought of seeing the slant of your lips when they curved upwards, in seeing your eyes crinkle and glimmer with delight, and he’d go through every single joke website in order to make it happen.

it took him an approximate year of you being in the force to get it to work.

it was lame, really. hardly one of his best jokes, he’d drunkenly slurred out, “what rank are all cats in the army? corpurrral,” with a tongue roll effect to go with it.

you had burst into laughter, filling the bar air with ringing church bells that he swore made the drunken state of his mind believe he was truly on his way to heaven. the gates had opened, inviting him in. he was levitating, slowly floating his way to the clouds.

your smile was like a breath of air — refreshing. it filled his lungs with such purity that all the cigarettes he’d smoked over the years of being in the force seemingly melted the thick layer of tar away, leaving him clean and refurbished.

it was like a drug, and johnny found himself seeking more out to get another taste, even if it took him another year to do so.

this is lowkey self insert bc this is my personality offline and i think other people who are so painfully awkward with socializing are cute and deserve love. wrote this with no sleep and a dream, silly ramble before i go to bed

i also just really love johnny, goodnight

[atlabeth]

growing sideways

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you and spencer have separate talks with parts of the team. it becomes clear that this case is nowhere close to over, and neither of you really know how to feel about each other.

a/n: this chapter FOUGHT with me for some reason but we're here! lol. can you tell that they love each other's eyes? anyways enjoy. this was much longer but then i decided to cut it here so. yeah.

another new banner bc when i lose inspo i make a new one for funsies

wc: 4.8k

warning(s): the usual. reader and spence DONT argue for once ? some angst, some fluff

You sleep better next to Spencer than you have in months. 

Maybe it’s the weight of his body against the mattress, his soft breathing next to you, maybe it’s just the knowledge that someone else is with you—but for the first time since all of this has started, you feel safe. 

Nightmares have been a constant part of your life for as long as you can remember. The standard fare when you were young, fears of the dark and the monsters that lived under your bed. 

You usually had to weather the storm on your own. Some babysitters were understanding, would sit on your bedside until you fell back asleep. Others couldn’t have cared less. And of course, once you got older and could start taking care of yourself, you just stared at the ceiling until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You still have them, more often than any well-adjusted person probably should. But like most unfavorable things in your life, you ignore it as much as you can.

But for once you wake up naturally, blinking the grogginess out of your eyes as you slowly come to. Your gaze darts over to the other side of the bed, and some sort of disappointment settles in your chest when you find it empty. 

Normally you’d try and push that sort of thought away as soon as it popped into your head. But lately… 

Lately, you didn’t really know what to do. About anything, really, but Spencer most of all. And that kind of said something when you were actively dealing with a stalker. 

It was so much easier when you hated him—when you could believe he hated you. Now you were… friends? Acquaintances? Just two people that didn’t hate each other anymore?

You just didn’t know what to do about him. But as you catch sight of the clock, 8:34 blinking back at you, you decide that you have to start your day first before going any further into this mess. 

For some reason, you reach out and touch Spencer’s side of the bed. It’s cold. You never really pegged him as the type to get up early, but he’s been proving you wrong as of late. 

You try not to let Spencer Reid envelop any more of your thoughts as you get out of bed, rubbing the remaining weariness out of your eyes. You go through your morning routine but don’t change out of your pajamas—that room still makes your skin crawl. 

You walk out and head to the kitchen. Once again, coffee is already made. The mug you used for last night’s (this morning?) liquor sits in front of the machine, cleaned by someone with a more careful hand than you, alongside the sugar container. You huff. Clever. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, you hear Spencer say your name. “You’re awake.” 

“As ever,” you say. You fill your mug and pick it up, then start to walk over. “You’re not going to make me use sugar, no matter—” 

The words die in your throat when you see someone else is sitting with Spencer, claiming the chair that you usually take. Your dad says your name with a nod of acknowledgement. “It’s good to see you.” 

Your grip tightens on your coffee mug. The heat burns your hands, but you don’t really feel it. “What are you doing here, Dad?” 

“We had a break in the case,” he says. “Our unsub made contact with me and Reid, and he might have been here last night, so you clearly can’t stay here anymore. Why wouldn’t I be here?” 

You look at Spencer and he nods. ���He showed up this morning, an hour and fifty-two minutes ago. Forensics is in the yard getting evidence.” 

“Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?” you ask. 

Spencer shrugs. “You were exhausted. I didn’t see any reason to wake you. You deserved to rest.”

“This is more important—you should know that.” You look back at your dad. His gaze stays on Spencer for just a second too long. “So? What’s—” 

“It’s not more important,” Spencer interrupts. Your brows furrow as you look back at him, his words drawing both you and your dad’s attention.

“Reid,” your dad starts, but he shakes his head.

“It’s not more important,” he repeats. “This whole thing is about you—protecting you, keeping you safe. Your health goes along with that, and I’m not going to let you continue to neglect it.”

“Reid,” your dad says again, stronger this time. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Fine,” he says. “I just care about y— your health.”

You meet Spencer’s eyes for far too long, and it’s like he refuses to look away. You hate him and his stupid doe eyes; always filled with concern, always finding you. 

You hate how it feels like he’s always able to see right through you. 

“We think we’ve been looking in the wrong direction,” your dad says, finally breaking the spell over you. “I thought it would be someone I’ve already put away, that’s finally gotten out and is looking for revenge.”

“But the calls we got go against that.” Spencer clears his throat and speaks up, and you finally feel the weight of his gaze move away from you. “He said Gideon ruined both of your lives—yours and his. Looping you in with him sounds like he’s got a problem with his dad as well.” 

“Like I put his father away, not him,” your dad continues. 

“So my stalker thinks we’re the same.” You drink some of your coffee, trying to hide your grimace. “Lovely.” 

“It’s common in stalker cases,” Spencer says. “He doesn’t know you, so he’s able to idolize you. Fantasize that because you share this trait, that you think the same way too. It’s a way of coping.” 

“Reid’s been using a burner phone and my personal number isn’t public, but he still got a hold of both of us. He also found this place, so he’s clearly got technical skills,” your dad says. 

You shake your head. A chill runs through you despite the heat of the mug in your hands. “I don’t understand how he got here. You said this was top secret.” 

“We’re not perfect,” he says. “He might have gotten a hold of it in a leak—”

“Or we’ve been compromised from the start,” Spencer suggests. “Did we check the vans for trackers? Did you check her bags for trackers? I mean, if it’s someone she knows—” 

“You sound crazy,” you interrupt. 

“It’s not crazy if it could have happened,” Spencer says sharply. “And frankly, nothing is too crazy if it concerns your safety.” 

He meets your eyes, steely and determined. Again, his gaze is like a physical weight. This time, you look away before you can get too in your head. 

“Fine,” you concede. “Say any of these crazy things have happened. Where do we go from here?” 

“We’re taking you back to the BAU while we figure out our next step,” your dad says. “This place is on our unsub’s radar now; there’s too much uncertainty. You’ll be safe at the office, at least.” 

“Okay,” you say. “I guess I’ll go pack up.” 

“In a minute.” He looks over at Spencer and gestures towards the door with his head. “Go check on forensics. Make sure they have everything they need.” 

“But you already did that ten minutes ago,” Spencer says. 

“Reid.” 

His eyes dart from your dad to you, and then they widen as he shoots up from his seat. “Oh! Oh— yeah, of course. Yeah, I’ll go— I’ll go do that.” 

He scurries away, but he looks back and meets your eyes. You quickly avert them, feeling your face heat, and you don’t look away from your coffee until you hear the door shut. 

“Very subtle, Dad,” you murmur. 

“He won’t mind,” he says. He stands up and walks over, eyes softening as he places a tentative hand on your shoulder. “How are you doing, sweetheart?” 

You flinch just so at his touch, and you know he notices. You try to ignore it anyways as you clear your throat. “Fine. Clearly.” 

“You don’t have to lie,” he says. “Especially with the recent advancements.” 

“I’m fine,” you repeat, putting extra emphasis on the word. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming last night?”

“I’m worried our comms are compromised.” He stares at you for another second before he removes his hand and clears his throat. “I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks.” 

“Makes sense.” You take another sip of coffee, then blink and look at your dad. “Uh— do you want a cup?”

He shakes his head. “Reid already offered when he brewed the pot.” He pauses. “Says he does it every morning for you.”

You shrug. “I never asked him to. He’s just always awake before me.”

He nods. “So the two of you are on better terms?”

“I—” 

You think back to last night—to the shared bed, the murmured words beneath the cover of darkness, Spencer pulling you back from the edge without a second thought. You feel your face heat and you glance away. 

“Yeah,” you finally say. “He’s tolerable.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Tolerable?”

“Yeah,” you repeat. “Give him the medal of honor.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re getting along with each other.” Your dad pauses, and uncertainty plagues his features in a way you’re not used to. “If you have—”

“Have what?” you interrupt. “Anything I want to talk about?”

He nods. “These are unprecedented times for you. You’re going through something incredibly traumatic. I’m here if you want to talk.”

“First time I think I’ve ever heard that from you,” you mutter. 

His hand comes up like he wants to reach out to you, but he wavers. Your dad is always so unsure about you in every way, and though a part of you wants to ignore all his efforts, another part of you just wants to take the shreds of love you’ve been wanting for so long. A part of you wants to break down sobbing in his arms, let him be your dad and let yourself be his daughter. 

“I—” You clear your throat, turning back to him for a second. You let your other arm drop, opening yourself up a bit. “I’ll think about it.” 

“That’s all I ask,” your dad says. “That you know I’m here for you. That—”

He’s interrupted when the door opens, Spencer already talking as he walks through.

“Forensics is wrapping up right now,” he says. “They’re headed back to the lab after this—Anders said she would reach out as soon as they have conclusive results.”

Your dad clears his throat, looking at you for another second before he nods and steps away. “Then it sounds like we should get going.” 

Spencer nods, starting to move again. “I’ll pack my things up.” 

“I guess I’ll do the same,” you say, but your dad puts a hand on your arm. It’s just as much a surprise to him as it is to you, and you freeze in place. 

He doesn’t meet your eyes immediately, instead watching to ensure Spencer is out of range. Once he’s sure, he looks at you—he seems to realize his hand on your arm, because he drops it just as quickly. 

“I mean it when I want you to know that you can talk to me,” your dad says softly. “About this, of course, but also anything else.” 

You raise your eyebrows, and he huffs in a moment of uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I know I haven’t always been there. More often than not. I hate that it took until now to fully face the facts.”

“Dad, you don’t have to do this—” you start murmuring, but he shakes his head. 

“I do. I’m the reason you’re in this mess. I’m the reason you’re…” He trails off, and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

“So fucked up?” 

“No,” he says forcefully. “No. There is nothing wrong with you. You need to know that—and you need to know that I love you.”

You can’t help the way your eyes widen ever so slightly. Your father has never been an emotional man, at least not in front of you—

“Thank you,” you say, because you don’t know what else to say. “I— I love you too.”

He nods a few times, looking like he wants to say more. He opens his mouth, but he’s once again interrupted by Spencer calling your name. 

“You left your sweatshirt in my room,” he says. 

“Thanks.” You take it from him and clear your throat, glancing at your dad. “I should probably start packing.”

He looks between the two of you, then nods. “Alright. Move quick, both of you.”

You nod, already starting towards your room. The last thing you really want to talk about with your dad is whatever weird friendship is starting between you and Spencer. So much so that when you hear your dad start to say something to Spencer, you tune it out. 

Too much idle time always lets your mind wander, and you don’t want to give it the chance. You pack as fast as possible, shoving rather than folding your clothes into your duffle. You put your sweatshirt on once you’re done, and you take one last look at the room you’ve spent the last three weeks in. 

Your eyes drift to the window of their own volition and a shiver runs down your spine. 

You won’t miss it. 

Spencer walks in when you’re in the middle of packing your bathroom bag. You see him freeze out of your peripherals. 

“Uh— sorry.” He looks a bit flustered when you turn your full attention on him. “Do you want me to—” 

“I was just finishing up,” you say. “Don’t worry.” 

“Oh.” He stands there still, watching as you put the last few products in your bag. “Are you doing okay?” 

“Seems to be the topic of the day,” you say wryly. 

“Well, yeah,” Spencer says. “It’s the whole reason we’re here.” 

You shake your head with a huff. “I’m fine.” 

“It’s okay if you’re not.” 

“Well, I am.” You zip up your bag and look at him. “I’ll be even better once we’re out of here.” 

“A week ago, that would have turned into a full fledged argument,” Spencer notes. 

You shrug. “I guess things have changed.” 

“...I guess so,” he says. 

For a moment, all you do is stare at each other. Spencer’s eyes are filled with the usual concern, but a different kind than the one than Gideon’s. It weighs on your father, heavier than anything—it does something else entirely to Spencer, something you can’t quite place. 

“Thank you for last night, by the way.” You glance away, finally at your breaking point with eye contact. “It… it helped.” 

“I’m glad,” Spencer says. “I want to get you through this.” 

“Then finish packing up so we can get out of here, huh?” You feel like you have to break whatever’s in the air, a strange sort of tension that’s been popping up between you two too often lately. You’d almost prefer the arguments to this, if it weren’t for how upset they seemed to make Spencer. 

“Of course,” he says. “You should probably finish your coffee before we leave, though.” 

“Because of the benefits of black coffee,” you nod. 

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head. “I don’t want to deal with you when you’re going through caffeine withdrawal.” 

You actually laugh at that, and his lips quirk in a smile. “Spencer Reid, was that a joke?” 

“No,” he says. “It’s serious. I’m scared of you.” 

You laugh again, and you shoulder your way past him. “Alright, boy genius. Finish packing before I throw your things out the door myself.” 

You feel his eyes on you as you leave and you don’t look back. But for once, you leave the room smiling. 

-

The ride back goes smoother than the ride over. A few members of the forensics team took your spare car back—your dad didn’t want to split the three of you up, especially during a time like this—so you’re all together, but there are no arguments, which is more than anyone can ask for. 

Your dad talks more about the team’s process and what they’ve been up to while you and Spencer were isolated. You don’t like that they’ve been tearing into every part of your life, but you don’t really have much control over it at this point. 

It mostly consists of Spencer talking with your dad, catching up on everything he’s missed. They talk a lot about the profile the team has made, about possible suspects and leads and things you don’t know if you’ll understand. You stare out the window for most of the ride, trying your best to tune them out. 

Maybe it’s stupid, but you don’t care. You just want this all to be over so your life can go back to normal. You miss your kids, your classroom, Friday night drinks with your coworkers—god, you miss sunlight, as pathetic as it sounds. You want to walk down the street without looking over your shoulder, but even after this is over you think you’ll stay paranoid for a while. 

You make it back to the BAU with little pomp, which you’re thankful for. Spencer is still talking with your dad while you’re exiting the car, and you open the trunk to get your things. You reach for your duffle, but you instead hit another hand. 

You look over at Spencer, who, for once, isn’t already looking at you.  

“What are you doing?” you ask. 

“Getting your bag,” he says. “Do you need to get your eyes checked?” 

“Why are you getting my bag?” you ask instead. 

“Because I want to.” Spencer takes it out and your hand falls off of his, and he raises his eyebrows at you. “I thought we were past this stage of our friendship.” 

“I don’t need you to do things for me when I can do them myself,” you say. 

He shrugs. “If I want to, why would I make you?” 

Spencer doesn’t give you a chance to protest as he grabs his suitcase and walks towards the building, and you stare at your dad. 

“Is he always like this?” 

“You just spent two weeks with him,” he says. “You tell me.” 

You scoff and shake your head, choosing to just file in beside your dad. “You’re both ridiculous.” 

Spencer, meanwhile, is trying to cope with his brain going into overload. 

It’s not just enough that he has to deal with this case. Spencer has solved 17 stalking cases with the team since he joined the FBI, and he’s read about a lot more. And as everyone likes to keep bringing up, he’s already played the bodyguard role once and it went fine. Mostly. 

Honestly, solving the case would be the easy part if you weren’t involved in it, because you are the hard part. You’re a loose cannon, an enigma—your story is more similar to Spencer’s than you would like to admit, and yet he still doesn’t know what to ever expect from you. 

Being back in the BAU doesn’t help. He walks in with you and Gideon in tow, and all eyes are immediately on them. Morgan stands up first with a grin on his face. 

“Pretty boy, back in the land of the living,” he says. “It’s good to see you.” 

“I’ve been in the land of the living this whole time,” Spencer says. “The goal of the safe house was for both of us to stay alive, and it worked.” 

Morgan just chuckles. “Believe it or not, I missed that.” He looks over at you. “How was rooming with our resident genius?” 

“Just what you’d expect,” you respond. “How was digging into every crack and crevice of my life?” 

“Just what you’d expect,” Morgan echoes. 

“How are you doing?” Elle asks. She stands and leans against her desk, her eyes darting over to Spencer momentarily before landing back on you. 

“As well as I can be,” you say. You really love giving nonanswers. “Actually, uh, Agent Greenaway—”

“Elle,” she interrupts. 

“Elle,” you nod. “Could I… pick your brain for a few minutes? It won’t be long, I—” 

“Of course.” She doesn’t wait for you to finish adding your self-deprecating ending to lighten the load, instead just pushing herself up from the desk to walk over to you. “I have to pick up a few things anyways.” 

“Thank you,” you say, and you fall into step with her as the two of you start going down the hallway. Spencer can’t even hear the beginning of your conversation, and he realizes he’s frowning when Gideon calls after them. 

“Meet us in the conference room when you’re done, Elle!” She gives him a thumbs up without turning, and then Gideon looks at the rest of the bullpen. “That goes for all of you—conference room in ten.” 

The rest of the team nods or says some form of acknowledgement, and he nods with a sigh before walking off. He goes to Hotch’s office instead of his own, probably to discuss things about the case. 

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Morgan asks. 

“The case,” Spencer says. “Gideon values Hotch’s opinion on everything, and because this case includes his daughter he’s probably doubting himself more. Hotch is a voice of reason to him right now.” 

“Not them,” Morgan says, gesturing down the hallway you walked down. “Them. Elle and your girl.” 

Spencer frowns. “She’s not my girl.” 

“You looked a lot friendlier today than you did a couple weeks ago,” JJ comments from her desk. “You actually had a conversation without fighting, for one.” 

“That doesn’t—”

“Spencer Reid, you’re back and you didn’t immediately come and say hi to me?”

He turns at the interruption to see Penelope speeding over, and he smiles at the sight. He did miss her, especially their morning talks. His days aren’t the same without her. 

“Garcia,” he says. “I missed you!”

“Not enough to stop by first thing,” she huffs. “What are we gossiping about?”

“We’re not gossiping—”

“Pretty boy and Baby Gideon,” Morgan interrupts. “They’re kinda having a thing.”

“We are not!” Spencer tries to defend himself but he doesn’t even think Garcia hears him. 

“Oh my god!” she nearly squeals, and she hits Spencer on the arm. “I knew there was a vibe!”

“There is no vibe!” he complains. 

“There was some pretty thick tension between the two of you when you came in here,” JJ muses.

“How could there be tension?” Spencer protests. 

“You were carrying her bag,” Morgan points out. 

“Because Gideon makes me—”

“She smiled at you,” JJ adds. 

Spencer scoffs. “She never smiles.”

“You’re talking about her right now like you know her,” Garcia continues. 

“We were just in a house for three weeks together!” 

“Definitely enough time to fall in love,” Morgan says. 

“You’re all ridiculous,” Spencer insists. “Don’t you all have work to do?”

“Yes, you do.” He looks up to see Hotch and Gideon standing together at the top of the bullpen right by the stairs, and he’s never been so thankful to be called out by his bosses. “I hope you’ve gotten all your gossiping out. Conference room in five.”

“And stop teasing Reid,” Gideon says. “He did me a favor.”

Spencer nods thankfully as the two of them walk away, and he wipes his clammy hands on his dress pants. His button-up is a little wrinkled, but in his defense, there wasn’t an iron back at the safe house. You probably would have made fun of him for using it. 

“What are you smiling about?” Morgan asks. 

Spencer blinks, broken out of his reverie. “Nothing. I, uh— I’m gonna grab coffee.” 

He still feels their eyes on him as he speeds his way out of the conversation, can hear but not fully make out the whispers between them all. Worst of all, when he presses the palm of his hand to his cheek, it feels like he’s running a fever. 

Honestly, Spencer hopes he’s sick. At least he’d have an excuse for why he’s acting so irrationally. 

He can only imagine what you and Elle are talking about. 

-

Elle is smart enough to wait until the two of you have gotten a decent way down the hall. 

“What did you want to talk about?”

“No small talk?” 

“I don’t really like it,” she says. 

You nod. “Me neither. So thanks, I guess.” 

You sigh and wring your hands, trying to figure out the way to word your multitude of thoughts. Eventually, you decide to start at the most pressing matter. 

“He was there,” you say. “At the house. My… my stalker.” 

“So I heard,” she murmurs. “How are you holding up?” 

“People keep asking me that and I never know what to say.” You shrug. “I— I just am, I guess. 

“That’s fine too,” she says. “A lot of times, people don’t know how they feel until it’s all over, when they finally have time to sit down and let the dust settle.” 

“I’m angry, a- and scared, and really annoyed that this is still going on,” you say. “I’m pissed that this guy thinks he has any right to do this to me, th- that he thinks we’re anything alike.” You wrap your arms around your midsection, trying to ward off the sudden chill you feel. “I just want this to be over so I can stop feeling like everyone’s pity project.” 

“Let me guess,” Elle says. “You’re tired of feeling weak and like you’re at everyone’s mercy, and you hate that you have to rely on your dad for all of this.” 

You chuckle weakly. “Bullseye.” 

“I think the two of us are pretty similar,” she says. “And I know that for me, there’s nothing more frustrating than not being able to solve my own problems.” 

“Well, what’s the solution?” you ask. “Because I’m tired of feeling tired.” 

Elle sighs. “Sometimes you have to accept that you can’t control everything. You have to trust in your dad and our team.” 

You huff. “That’s harder than it sounds.” 

“Believe me, I know.” Elle glances at you. “But you’re going to drive yourself crazy otherwise, and I don’t really wanna lose you.” 

You smile at that. “Thanks. I like you too.” 

Elle laughs and the two of you continue walking, the silence surprisingly comfortable for someone you’ve only talked to twice. 

“You know,” Elle breaks the silence, and you look over at her, “a couple of people around the office were taking bets on you and Reid.”

“What?” you ask, maybe a little too defensively. “Why?” 

“We had this stalker case a while ago and Reid had to guard the girl, just like you,” Elle says. “They ended up making out in a pool before the case was over.” 

Your eyes widen so much you think they might pop out of your head. “What?” 

Elle laughs and nods. “Yeah. That actress, Lila Archer. She had a thing for him, but it didn’t really go anywhere. Pictures would have gotten plastered all over the tabloids if it weren’t for Gideon.”

You’re still trying to process the fact that Spencer Reid, the same guy who set off the smoke alarm by burning toast and fumbles his words when he’s around you and spouts off facts like a human encyclopedia at a moment’s notice, made out with a famous actress — and his team was betting whether it would happen with you too. 

No wonder he kept bringing up a damn pool. You feel your cheeks heat and you hope Elle can’t tell—you’re suddenly going through every single interaction you’ve had with Spencer, in private and public.

God, being around profilers is a nightmare. You suddenly want to avoid your dad even more.  

“I didn’t take him for that kind of person,” you finally manage. 

“He’s not, really. Was just a spur of the moment thing, I think.” Elle shrugs. “Seems Reid likes you, though.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you say hastily. 

“Give yourself some credit,” she says. “And some slack, too. Reid’s… pretty easy to—” 

The two of you are interrupted by someone calling both of your names, and you turn to see JJ standing at the bend. “Gideon wants us in the conference room.” She looks at you. “He said you can wait in his office.” 

You nod, and Elle looks at you. “You know where to go?” 

“Yeah,” you say. “Thanks for the talk.” 

“Any time,” she says, and she pulls something out of her pocket and hands it to you. It’s her business card, with her number at the bottom. “And I mean that.” 

You swallow the gratitude that swells in your chest and you nod a few more times. “Thank you. Seriously.” 

She smiles and walks off to meet JJ, and you stare at the card in your hand for a few more seconds before you shove it into your pocket. 

Two friends and a stalker. 

It could be worse.

[gigiszn]

hi!! i LOVE ur gwi-nam sm :)

ik he isn’t a great person but he’s just so hot and i’m so glad there’s more ppl writing for himmm😭

i was wondering if you could write some fluff for him? like him protecting the reader but veryyy reluctantly bc he still has to keep up his tough guy appearance yk? bc lets be honest if he’s protecting you he’s gonna make it seem like such a chore😭 and if you dm could you use y/n or reader? i know you don’t like using y/n and stuff so if you don’t want to that’s okay! :)

SEVEN MINUTES — gwi-nam x fem!reader

no i totally agree that he'd see it as a chore.. like in his mind he'd know that he'd literally die to protect you but then when it comes to doing it he'd be all 'yeah yeah i'm only doing it bcs i want to..' it's nice to write him in a fluff, i'm the type of person who always tries to see the best in everyone and what better way than to write about it?

and i totally do not mind writing y/n / reader fics! if that's what the audience wants thats what the audience gets :) <33

here's some gwinam fluff for u babe!!

tw: blood, mentions of attack, mentions of zombies, written in 2nd pov,,

wc: 2.7k

FLUFF!

۫ ꣑ৎ ｡°‧⭑.ᐟ

To do list for today:

Do laundry? Check. Get to school on time? Sorta-check. Fight off brain-eating zombies?

At this moment, you couldn’t even entertain the thought of checking that box off. You were lying flat on the cold cafeteria floor, your vision blurry as you stared up at the classmate that'd be sure to make you his lunch instead of the gimbap and kimchi. On top of you, the boy you’d sat next to in math just this morning was animalistic, uncontrollable, with blood dripping from his face. He was a still, haunting reminder of how quickly everything had spiraled out of control.

The blood that had splattered across his face was now seeping onto your own, a chilling, sticky warmth that had your stomach turning. You could barely hear the chaos over the rush of your heartbeat, but the eerie groans of zombies and their shuffling footsteps filled your ears. Your mind was struggling to keep up, caught between the instinct to fight back and the cold reality that it might be too late.

Your body felt frozen, unable to move, as if you were stuck in place by some invisible force. The cafeteria was a warzone now—tables upended, broken chairs scattered across the floor, and the grotesque sound of gnawing filling the air as people ran around you. Every inch of your being screamed for you to get up, to run, to do anything, but your legs felt like lead. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. You were just there, waiting for the inevitable.

Then, in the midst of it all, a sharp sound cut through your panic—a grunt, a struggle, and suddenly the weight of the boy who had been lying on top of you was yanked off. Your heart skipped, and you blinked, trying to focus through the haze.

Before you could even react, you looked up—and there he was.

Gwi-nam?

The last person you ever expected to see in this nightmare.

Gwi-nam. Your past. Your confusion. The boy you had once cared for, the one you had loved, but also the one you’d distanced yourself from because of everything he’d done. It wasn’t just the bullying, or the way he made others feel helpless and small—it was how you felt helpless in his presence, like there was nothing you could do to stop him.

But now, there he was, his dark eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. His chest rose and fell quickly, and his expression was a mix of focus and something you couldn’t quite place.

You didn’t know whether to feel relief or dread.

Without hesitation, he grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet. You didn’t argue, couldn’t argue. There was no time. In a swift motion, he guided you toward the kitchen, moving with a purpose that left no room for doubt. His grip on you was firm, almost urgent, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. The chaos around you had left you disoriented, and for the first time in what felt like hours, you felt like you had a sliver of hope.

The kitchen door slammed shut behind you as you tumbled inside, and Gwi-nam immediately shoved you under the counter, lowering you into the cramped space. You had barely settled when you heard the sound of his footsteps behind you, his body pressing against your back as he slid into place. The tight space left little room to move, but there was a strange comfort in knowing you weren’t alone—not that you could have moved if you wanted to. The air was thick, the stench of decay mixing with the lingering scent of food and sweat. Your heart pounded in your ears, every beat a reminder that time was running out.

Two other figures huddled in the kitchen with you, a boy and a girl. They were breathing heavily, clearly as terrified as you were. You couldn’t tell how many zombies were in the building anymore—too many had already been drawn into the chaos—but the muffled groans told you that they were close, too close for comfort.

You pressed your back further into Gwi-nam’s chest, trying to steady your breathing. The sensation of his warmth against you was oddly grounding, though it didn’t ease the panic building in your chest. You didn’t know if you could trust him, not really—not after everything—but there was no time for doubt now. You just had to hold on, survive, and hope that the world outside this kitchen would make sense again when you stepped out of it.

The zombies hadn’t reached the kitchen yet, but you knew it was only a matter of time before they found you. The fear in your stomach twisted tighter with every passing second. The kitchen, once a mundane place, had turned into a prison—a place of both safety and suffocating confinement.

You sat there, your head resting against the cold, hard edge of the counter, trying to breathe through the fear that was clawing its way up your throat. Gwi-nam’s breathing was steady behind you, but the tension between you two was palpable. The silence in the cramped space was deafening, broken only by the faint noises from the rest of the building. The zombies hadn’t given up yet. You could hear their shuffling steps, their guttural groans drifting through the walls.

But for now, you were alive.

And maybe that was enough.

You turned your head, feeling the weight of time stretching on for what felt like hours. You had to stay quiet—every sound, every breath, seemed like it could betray your hiding spot. The floor beneath you was cold, your body stiff with the effort to stay still. Slowly, you shifted your body, now facing Gwi-nam, who was focused on the girl next to you. His eyes were intent on her, his finger pressed to his lips, signaling her to stay silent. He was too busy trying to calm her to notice your movements.

You held your breath. The sound of shuffling footsteps and distant groans filled the air, making your heart race in time with your pulse. It was only a matter of time before the undead would find their way under the counter.

As you were about to speak, hoping to get his attention, Gwi-nam’s patience seemed to snap. Without a word, he shoved the girl aside, moving with quick, calculated precision. Before you could even process what was happening, a nearby cafeteria worker—now one of the zombies—lunged at her, grabbing her in a flash. The girl let out a muffled scream, but there was nothing anyone could do. She was already torn into, the floor painted with her ruby liquid.

You froze, a gasp rising from your chest. Your instincts kicked in, and you tried to make a move, to run, to help, but Gwi-nam’s hand shot up to cover your mouth, pulling you back into his arms with surprising strength. His grip was firm, preventing you from doing anything rash.

You could feel his heart beating against your back as he held you tightly, his other hand pressing gently but urgently against your chest. His body was solid behind you, a strange sense of security amidst the chaos. But the sound of the girl’s panicked cries was still ringing in your ears, followed by a terrible silence.

The boy who had been hiding with you had lunged forward in an attempt to rescue her, but he was quickly overtaken by the swarm. His struggles were brief, his fate sealed in seconds. The sounds of his cries were drowned out by the savage growls of the people you'd once called friends.

Everything went still. For a moment, it was like the world had paused, your breath caught in your throat. The cold air of the kitchen felt heavier now, suffocating. You wanted to scream, to break down, but your body wouldn’t let you. Instead, a tight knot of fury twisted in your chest.

You turned to face Gwi-nam, your eyes burning with anger. You slapped his hand away, the sound of it harsh in the silence. "You're still the same old Gwi-nam, even now?" you whispered, your voice shaking with a mix of fear and fury. The words stung as they left your lips, the truth of them hitting harder than you expected.

You grabbed hold of his shirt, your fists trembling with the weight of your emotions. You tugged him closer, your eyes locked onto his. You needed him to understand, to feel how much this hurt. "How could you just let that happen?" you spat out, your voice bitter, almost breaking under the strain of everything that had built up between you.

“Just shut up and stop complaining, y/n!” For a moment, there was nothing but silence, the kind that felt too loud, too heavy. The tension between you both crackled in the air, and you wondered if this would be the moment he pushed you away for good.

Instead, his hands moved slowly, cautiously, as if he was afraid you would break if he moved too quickly. He reached out, pulling you toward him. His embrace was surprisingly gentle, wrapping around you tightly, as if he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

You froze. You were confused, unsure how to react. For a long moment, your hands hovered in the air, uncertain. Your breath caught in your throat, your body tense with the whirlwind of emotions you were trying to sort through.

Everything inside you screamed to pull away, to resist the closeness, but in that moment, you couldn’t find the strength to do it. Slowly, almost reluctantly, you lowered your hands, your fingers touching his back. The warmth of his body against yours was a strange comfort amidst the chaos, but it didn’t make sense. You weren’t sure if you were angry, scared, or both.

“I would always do anything to save you,” Gwi-nam whispered into your ear, his voice low and sincere, but there was something else there—a weight, a hidden truth behind the words. “Always—Even if it means making impossible choices. So stop whining and just let me fucking save us.”

The air around you grew thick, and for a brief second, the noise of the world outside seemed to fade away. His words settled into your mind, sinking in deeper than you wanted them to. You wanted to argue, to tell him how wrong he was, but the truth was harder to deny than you cared to admit. There was a darkness in this world now—a darkness that forced people to do things they might never have thought possible.

And in that darkness, Gwi-nam’s words felt like a promise. A promise to protect you, no matter the cost.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the weight of everything hitting you all at once. The memories of everything that had come before—the moments of laughter, the shared secrets, the way he once made you feel so alive in a world that now felt so dead—came rushing back. It was all so complicated now. The love, the hurt, the distance. The world had torn you apart, and you weren’t sure if you could put the pieces back together.

You could feel Gwi-nam’s hand tightening at the back of your head, his fingers gently pressing against your scalp as he held you closer. It wasn’t forceful or aggressive, but it was a silent promise, a quiet reassurance that despite the destruction, despite the monsters that now roamed the world, you wouldn’t have to face this alone.

The next moment flew by in a blur. The two first-years who had left the counter—now twisted and zombified—lunged toward you with unsettling speed. He didn't hesitate. Grabbing a metal table, he shoved it toward the oncoming attackers, creating just enough space for you to slip away. His hand shot out, grabbing yours with urgency, and together, you barreled toward the cafeteria window above the sink. Without a word, he hoisted you up, his grip tightening as he pulled you through.

You tumbled into the alley beyond, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your hearts pounded as you ran hand-in-hand, the shuffling footsteps of the zombies close behind. An idea sparked in your mind—a plan, however small. You tugged him with purpose toward the building, the one the two of you had snuck behind every day to escape the chaos of high school life. It was familiar, a small piece of normalcy in a world turned upside down.

The zombies were close—too close—but as you scaled a ventilator and pressed your backs against the cool metal of the machine, they lost your trail. The world felt distant now, the cacophony of screeches and growls slowly fading into the distance.

Time stretched, becoming a slow, agonizing pulse. You lay still, barely breathing, watching as the night swallowed the world around you. Minutes—or was it hours?—passed before you finally sat up, cautiously peering through the shadows. The weight of the silence pressed in around you.

"Holy shit," you muttered under your breath.

Gwi-nam laughed softly beside you, breaking the tension. You both sat in quiet companionship for a while, catching your breath. Your mind spun, but you focused on the immediate task at hand: survival. The conversation meandered, but all you could think about was getting the two of you somewhere safe. Away from this nightmare.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting pale light over the ruined world below, but the time was irrelevant now. Nothing mattered except the here and now. Your breath steadied, but there was an undeniable unease in the air.

"Did you know," you spoke up, your voice surprisingly calm, "when you die, you see seven minutes of your best memories before it all ends?"

He tilted his head, eyebrow raised, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. "You think we're gonna die?"

Your lips curled into a half-smile as you shrugged, a touch of uncertainty in your eyes. "I don't know. Maybe."

For a long moment, the only sound was the distant hum of the night. His gaze never left you, searching your face for something, something that lingered between the weight of the world and the quiet comfort of your presence. Slowly, he reached for your hand. His grip was warm against the cool night air.

"You’d be my seven minutes," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

You met his gaze, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating the quiet intensity in his eyes. For a brief second, it felt like the entire world—zombies, the chaos, the desperation—faded away. As you held his stare, the weight of everything that had happened, and everything that could still happen, seemed to evaporate, leaving nothing but the two of you. The shadows of the world around you dissolved, like a fading nightmare. In that moment, the air between you thickened, your breath mingling as you whispered, “And you’d be mine.”

It was as if time had suspended itself, the violence of the world slipping into the background, becoming just a distant memory, a figment of imagination. There was nothing but him, nothing but this fragile, precious quiet. You leaned in, the space between you shrinking, your heart racing in anticipation of something simple yet profound.

Just before your lips could meet, your hand instinctively rose, and with a single finger, you pressed it lightly between your lips, halting the moment. His eyes searched yours, a quiet smile forming at the corners of his mouth. “Save the kiss for when we make it out of here,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper, as though the words themselves might be a secret only meant for this fragile slice of time.

A playful glint flickered in his eyes, and before you could fully process it, he swept you into his arms, pulling you close in a tight, almost reckless squeeze. The sudden closeness caught you off guard, but there was comfort in it—a promise that, for now, you were safe in his arms, even if only for a moment.

“Deal,” he whispered with a chuckle, his voice low and warm against your ear. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and for the briefest instant, it was like the rest of the world didn’t exist—just the two of you, holding on to something that felt like hope, something that might just get you both through the nightmare you found yourselves in.

[mrsdesade]

I'd like something based on Sage vs fem!supe! Maybe them arguing and then Homie forced to choose between one of them, but everything ending up with something unexpected! You choose what :)

Shattered glasses;

Pairing: Homelander x fem!super (I use Ophera bc I don't like writing ''y/n'' y'know) TW: slight angst, mention of poisoning, morally grey fem!supe Timeline: season 4 Words count: 2,7k Note: thanks for the request dear anon, I was waiting for writing something about s4 :) ofc no hate for any characters!!

Sister Sage never liked you. From the first moment she saw you, she knew you would be a hindrance. She's not jealous, not even in love with him, she just wanted to control Homelander, and you already had him in your grasp. But the little flaws in your absolutely not perfect relationship with him were the perfect opportunity for her to destroy you and get you fired.

For months she had been trying to make you look incompetent or unable to do your work, she was the smartest woman in the world, and in her eyes you were just another showgirl like the others.

But you were on the Seven from the early years and, oh, you didn't liked at all the fact that Homelander had chosen her as his advisor.

You, you are his partner, he should listen to you.

It has always been about control, rarely about love. But now you feel jealousy boiling in your veins, your control over him is slipping away, and you feel in danger. You know that you'll have to prove to Sage that it is not so easy to get rid of you.

Sister Sage sat comfortably at the table of the Seven, her hands folded in front of her, sipping a steaming cup of chamomile tea. With a delicate motion, she set the cup back down on its saucer, and flashed you a calm smile.

“I think you’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment. You’re making this personal. It’s simply business.”

She's too confident in her intellectual abilities, to the point of arrogance. She's good at reading people, especially their feelings and insecurities, and she uses that to her advantage in arguments, trying to make you say something stupid and make you look like a fool.

“You’ve had your chance at the top, dear. It’s time to accept that things have changed.”

You are standing, with your hands placed on the table, clenched into two fists to hold back your nervousness, looking for the right words to face her, but nothing comes out of your lips.

“Listen, I understand your… frustration. After all, you’re nothing more than a relic these days, don’t you think? A fading star.”

The words hit you like a blow to the gut. Her casual insults were like salt rubbed vigorously into an open wound. You fight back the urge to respond with anger, knowing that she's goading you into a reaction.

“Oh, I hit a nerve, didn’t I? That’s exactly what I meant. You’re stuck in the past. You can’t adjust to the changes. It’s kinda pathetic, really.”

You wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and wipe that arrogant smile off her face, but you knew that’s exactly what she wanted. So you took a deep breath, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

“I suggest you think about your words better, the last person who dared to call me pathetic didn't end well.”

Sage raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“You can try to intimidate me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that your time has passed. No matter what you do, you won't be able to get your spotlight back.”

“Dear, I fill the stadiums, the arenas, millions of people come to hear my voice every night, every single event is sold out in minutes! I wouldn't call this decay of a carreer.”

“Ah, yes, the fame and the adoration of the masses. Impressive, really. But I was referring to another type of spotlight here.”

She paused for a moment, studying your face before continuing. Your gaze has become dark, almost threatening, you know perfectly well where he wants his speech to end.

“We both know you lost your real spotlight a long time ago…the one that matters. Homelander won’t change his mind about me.”

Your expression betrays your emotions, anger and frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

“You're playing a dangerous game Sage, you know that? You think you can just waltz in here and take my place?”

“Ophera, is it so hard to accept that I’m better equipped for the job? You’ve always been so blinded by your ego and your pride. Your strategy is always to stay safe and not lose your career, Vought needs much more than this.”

Her expression was cool and calculating, as If she had already mapped out every possible reaction you might have.

“And let's clarify, I don’t need to take your spot. I already have.”

Your face twisted in anger, your fists gripped the table’s edge, under your gloves knuckles turning white.

“You arrogant little—“ you began, but she calmly interrupted you.

“Now, now, there’s no need for insults.” she chided, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “We’re adults here, we can speak calmly and intelligently like any normal person, don’t you agree?”

“You're feeling cool, mh? Acting all smart and knowing everything. I've been a part of this Seven for years. And you, you're nothing.”

Her cool demeanor began to crack, and a hint of annoyance flickered across her face at your words.

“Ah, here it goes. The same old tired argument. I've been here longer, I'm more experienced, blah blah blah.”

She leaned forward, her eyes boring into yours with an intensity that contradicted her calm exterior.

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” you teased, mirroring her earlier taunt.

“Don't get too comfortable.” she retorted, her voice slightly sharpened. “You should remember that your position here is fragile. One wrong word, one wrong move, and you could lose everything you have left.“

You leaned forward now, your voice lowering as you met her gaze.

“You seem to forget that I’ve still a pretty big influence over Homelander myself. I can make things difficult for you if I want to.”

“I think we both know who he listens to these days.”

The conversation was cut short when the door to the room burst open, and Homelander strolled in, his presence immediately filling the space. His eyes flicked between the two of you, sensing the tension in the room.

“What's going on here?”

You and Sage both turned your attention to him, quickly composing yourselves.

“Just a chat. I was merely informing Ophera of some important developments within about the Vought future.”

Homelander glanced at you, tilting his head slightly as he observed.

“A chat, huh? Didn't look like a friendly one to me.”

“You're right. And since it's clear that Sage loves telling you lies, I'll tell you that wasn't just a simple chat.” an adorable, mischievous smile escapes from your lips. Exposing the little lie she told to him.

Homelander's eyes immediately landed on Sage, waiting for her to respond. “Care to explain?”

Sage shifted in her seat, clearly irritated that you had exposed her lie. “It's nothing serious, just a typical argument between colleagues. Nothing you need to worry about.” she replied quickly, trying to downplay the situation.

And incredibly, it works.

Homelander nods like a tamed puppy and believes her.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration as Homelander seemed to buy into Sage's explanation so easily. It seemed like she had him wrapped around her little finger.

“I see, things like this happens, just keep it professional, ladies, okay?”

Sage shot you a quick, victorious look, smug knowing her sweet words to him had prevailed, again.

Disappointment flooding through your veins. It infuriated you how easily Homelander seemed to believe blindly in to Sage's words. You tried to maintain a neutral expression. But you won't have another opportunity like this to assert your dominance, you have to think of something quickly. Sage sure is smart, but you can be really sly.

You pretended to shrug nonchalantly, even though inside you were seething with anger. But you weren't done yet.

You locked eyes with Homelander, ensuring he was listening to you. And then you spoke, your voice dripping with feigned concern.

“It’s true, it wasn’t a big deal. But there’s one thing that concerns me, Homelander. May I be honest with you?”

He tilted his head slightly, curiosity piqued. “You've to.”

“I felt a bit insecure lately and I was wondering...If I should save Sage from poisoning or me from falling from a building. Who would you save?”

Your question comes like an unexpected bolt of lightning, without anyone being able to foresee it or understand its real intention. You cross your arms over your chest and walk around the room slowly, waiting for a response.

He's is taken aback by your question, and the room falls silent. Sage glanced at you quickly, an unexpected flicker of worry in her eyes.

Homelander's eyes follow you as you walk around the room. He's quiet for a few moments, considering the weight of your words before answering.

“Why should I choose, I can save both without effort, you know that.” he finally responds, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Your lips curled into a smirk - the answer is far from satisfactory.

“Of course, but let's say you can only choose one.” you persist, your voice steady. “Who would it be?”

His expression unreadable. He's definitely taken off guard by your insistence, and you can see a hint of annoyance starting to form underneath the surface.

“There are too many factors to consider, I can't just say one random name. Fuck, you and your stupid questions...”

Sage looks down at the cup of chamomile tea she was drinking a few minutes ago, and for a second the fear of having been poisoned actually makes her shiver.

“And that's why I'm here to listen all of your thoughts about.” you smile at him once again, hiding something dark behind your kind tone.

Homelander sighs, finally realizing you won’t back down. He crosses his arms, staring at you with slight irritation.

“Fine. Let's say, If I had to choose, I'd likely save Sage first.”

Sage's head snapped up upon hearing his decision, and her eyes widened in surprise. But you answer him carefully, still smiling.

“Are you sure about that?”

“I mean, you're more resistant than her, you wouldn't really die falling from a building. While Sage body is totally human, he would certainly die without an antidote for the poison.”

Your smirk widens, you expected this.

“There, happy now? I solve your fucking riddle.”

You quickly turn away from the conversation and casually walk over towards the large window you know is behind Sage's seat. Acting as if you were admiring the view outside, you casually reach for the handle and pull the window open. The wind that blows in is strong enough to be unexpected, the documents on the table rattle, and the curtains wave violently.

Sage's hand involuntarily releases her cup of tea, and as it hits the floor and the liquid splashes in her direction, a look of panic and realization flashed across her face.

She quickly rises from her seat, her body shaking subtly, trying to play it off as if it was just a simple accident. But anyone can see the flicker of panic behind her eyes. The liquid seeps into the carpet, staining it a dark brown.

“You— Ophera what have you done to my tea?!”

Homelander's eyes narrow, his attention suddenly diverted from the ongoing conversation.

You feign surprise, tilting your head to the side innocently. “Me? Nothing.”

“Bullshit!” Sage points a finger at you, a mixture of shock and fury on her face. She starts to feel strange, she feels dizzy and her legs are shaking.

You turn back to the large open window, the strong gust of wind causing your hair to flutter and the hem of your uniform too. As you look outside, you subtly step back, closer and closer to the edge, the tips of your feet barely holding onto the edge of the window frame.

“What the hell are you doing Ophera?” he say, his voice sharp. “Get away from the window, where has your fear of great heights gone?”

Your eyes flick toward Homelander, a sly smile playing on your lips as you continue to stand dangerously close to the open window, your words dripping with a hint of manipulation.

“Well, I guess now you finally have a real opportunity to choose, love.”

A moment of silence hangs in the air as they're taken off guard by your audacity. Suddenly, without any warning, you lean back, and with a graceful leap, you launch yourself out of the window.

Homelander's heart skips a beat.

“No…No, don't—” he exclaimed desperately, his body moving on instinct.

The wind immediately engulfs you as the ground rapidly comes closer and closer. You feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins, looking at the blue sky, the thrill of the freefall mixing with the intense rush of the air hitting your back.

In an instant, a blur of red and blue rushes towards you as Homelander flies out, he flies towards you at superhuman speed shattering the glass of the other windows. He moves closing the distance between you and him in mere seconds.

From the window, Sage leans out, looking at you both with disbelief. Her eyes widened, and her mouth hangs open, speechless at the turn of events.

Homelander catches you mid-air, wrapping his arms around you, the wind still rushes around you both. You can feel his hands shaking a bit as he holds you.

You look up at him, a cheeky smirk dancing on your lips. A breathless laugh escapes you, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. Your heart pounds, and a sense of exhilaration washes over you. The suddenness of your action still hangs in the air, and his surprise is evident in his eyes.

“Ops, I guess you picked me.”

Homelander huffs, his grip on you slightly loosening, relaxing, floating in air with you. He shakes his head, relief and frustration clear on his face.

“You're out of your goddamn mind woman.”

“Maybe I am. But, at least you still care enough to save me.” you chuckle softly, enjoying the moment of his attention.

He rolls his eyes, but you can see a smile on his lips and he's slowly moving in the hair to coming back inside the Tower.

You reach out to caress his face gently, your touch tender against his skin. Your hand trail over his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath your fingertips. Your other hand still grips onto the fabric of his suit, holding onto him.

“Y'know...I thought Sage brainwashed you into choosing her over me, but I'm happy to see that's not the case.”

His expression softens a little, his eyes meeting yours.

“Believe me, I think she tried. But she didn’t brainwash me at all.” he grumbles, his voice low. “I’m not that easy to control. You should know that..”

“I know you're far from being easy to control. You’re too stubborn and prideful for that.”

He huffs again, with his bold smirk on his lips. “You’re quite stubborn too, maybe more than me. Just look at your little stunt back there.”

As he lands back inside the room with you in his arms, the scene is a little chaotic. He takes a moment to check you are okay, before his eyes land on Sage, who is now passed out on the floor.

“Was really necessary to poison her? Despite your jealousy he was an excellent strategy member to the team.” he say, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Relax. She's not dead. There wasn't a single drop of poison or anything in her tea.” you look down at Sage's unconscious body, lying motionless on the floor, and a small, satisfied smile lifts the corners of your lips.

“Then why the hell is she passed out?” he asks, puzzled.

You kneel down next to her and tilt your head to the side as you examine her unconscious form. The feeling of triumph washes over you, knowing that you managed to manipulate her fear and doubt to your advantage.

“With a brain like hers, mental deceptions are more effective than anything else. It was enough for me to convince her that she had been poisoned and goodnight little sunshine.”

He lets out a low whistle, impressed by the simplicity of your tactic.

“Damn. You really know how to mess with people's heads.”

There's admiration in his voice. An admiration for you that you can still wear like a medal.

“But you really had to prove a point in such a dramatic manner, huh?”

You stand back up, brushing off your uniform and looking at Homelander with a smug smile.

“I had to do something to prove to her, and you, who your favourite really was.”

-------

Hope you like it! I will calmly continue to write about him based on your ask box requests, I will not leave anyone unsatisfied, I promise <3

[wcnderlnds]

to the moon [2] | choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

・❥・ summary: bumping into seunghyun unexpectedly yet again leads to a night under the stars. ・❥・word count: 1.5k ・❥・warnings: none ・❥・ authors note: this kinda sucks and i didn’t proofread bc im tired but hopefully you enjoy 😭 im sorry part two took so long.

PART ONE

Why aren’t astronauts hungry when they get to space? They had a big launch.

The flash of your screen lighting up caught your attention, making you pause the words you were typing up on your computer. An almost giddy feeling filled you, knowing immediately who the text was from. Work could wait; this was more important. You slid your finger across the screen to unlock your phone, grinning like a cheshire cat when you read the text. The giggle that burst from your lips should’ve been embarrassing but you didn’t care. You loved corny jokes – you’d especially come to love corny space jokes from Seunghyun.

It had only been a week since you had met him in the bar but he had made sure to text you every single day. It had first started out with just one or two texts but it got to the middle of the week and you found yourselves texting each other almost all day long. He’d tell you some space facts, some corny jokes and tell you what was going on with his space mission. He always seemed so passionate about it. The way he talked about stars and space was so endearing.

Quickly, your fingers tapped along the screen typing up a reply. Knowing Seunghyun, if he wasn’t busy, he’d reply straight away. You’d done enough work for the day – it was mostly catching up with assignments you’d set yourself. Being an author meant that you could at least pick and choose when you worked. As long as you met your publisher’s deadline then you were fine.

Shutting your laptop, you leaned back on the couch, stretching your arms above your head. You could really go for some chocolate ice cream right now. But, you remembered that you’d ran out last week when you had a breakdown over your latest novel, deciding to stuff your face with ice cream to eat away your feelings.

It seemed like a visit to the grocery store was in order.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Being at the grocery store at 9pm on an evening felt weird. The aisles were mostly empty, only a few cashiers on the registers eagerly waiting for their shifts to end. The buzz of the refrigerators filled your ears as you walked down the frozen food aisle. There were only a couple of other people in the store. Most of them probably needing some last minute items like you or on their way to get their drinks for the weekend. It was a Friday night after all.

Reaching the freezer where your favourite ice cream was, you pulled it up but just as you were about to grab a tub – the last one, actually – another hot shot out too, brushing against yours to grab it.

“Hey,” you huffed. With blazing eyes you turned to give the person a telling off before you saw who it was. “Seunghyun?”

“Y/N?” His face lit up instantly. “Fan of the chocolate ice cream, too, huh?”

“Yep and I’m sorry but this is mine.”

“Says who? We both grabbed it at the same time.”

“Yeah, but I opened the freezer door so by default, I was first.”

“That's how it works?” His lips turned up in a smirk, both your hands still holding the tub.

“Yeah, so, let go of it,” you tried to sound stern but it wasn’t hard to notice the small giggle you were holding back.

“Alright, you little ice cream goblin, how about we share?” Seunghyun suggested. “We can go outside right now and dig in. Only catch is you have to hang out with me to do it.”

“Oh no, how will I ever survive?” You sarcastically rolled your eyes. Truth was, you were elated to spend time with him. Through all the days you’d been texting, you’d wanted to ask him if he wanted to hang out but could never get the guts to do it. He was busy, you hadn’t wanted to interrupt that but by the way he was smiling, fingers twitching against yours, he seemed just as eager.

“You’re a brat,” he laughed. Before you could even react, he snatched the ice cream from you, running to the cashier with you chasing after him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Before you had met Seunghyun, you hadn’t appreciated just how beautiful the stars were but now as you sat here on the hood of your car with him beside you sharing the chocolate ice cream he’d bought, you couldn’t help but marvel at their beauty. They way they dazzled in the night sky, how some seemed to shine brighter than others. You’d have to ask the space nerd why that happened. Space had never interested you before but now you found your thoughts constantly drifting to wonder what actually went on in the universe. What other secrets did the stars hold?

You dug the plastic spoon into the half eaten tub of ice cream, savouring the flavour as you put it into your mouth. Seunghyun beside you had momentarily gone quiet after a rant about Star Trek. The second you had told him you’d never watched it, he launched into telling you all the lore. You had just sat there, listening, nodding when needed. Seeing his little face light up as he spoke about these characters made your heart beat a little faster. That all too familiar feeling of butterflies threatening to come to life in the pit of your stomach.

“So, I have to admit something,” you said once you’d swallowed down the ice cream. “I googled you.”

Seunghyun stiffened. “What? Why?”

“I saw an article about the DearMoon project and it said you were a Korean celebrity which you never told me by the way so… I got curious,” you glanced sideways at him, noticing how he had visibly tensed, his hand clutching at the spoon in his hand.

“Oh.” That was all he said. The way he refused to look at you made your heart ache. In Seunghyun’s mind, he thought now that you knew who he was and his past, you wouldn’t want anything to do with him. His mind was his biggest enemy, always telling him he wasn’t good enough. He couldn’t be further from the truth.

Carefully, as if you were approaching a scared animal, you placed your hand on top of his that was resting on the hood. Your voice was soft as you spoke. “It doesn’t matter to me. It doesn’t change anything. Your past is your past and, from what I saw, you were treated incredibly unfairly anyway. I don’t care about any of it. To me, you’re that nerd from the bar who texts me awful space jokes everyday.”

Seunghyun let out a breath he didn’t even realise he’d been holding. His body relaxing at your soothing words. Well, almost. Maybe he was panicking inside a little bit at the fact your were basically holding his hand but that was a problem for future Seunghyun to deal with. “Thank you.”

“Now, show me another one of those constellations,” you smiled at him, giving his hand a soft squeeze but not letting go. Not just yet. The contact was nice. You leaned back against the window of your car, Seunghyun following suit. He raised his free hand, finger pointing out one of the constellations.

“See those three star in a row? That’s Orion’s belt,” his eyes gazed up at the night sky to admire the beauty of the stars. It was calming. Especially being here with you.

“Oh yeah, I see it,” you said, raising your own hand to trace the stars with your own finger. “That’s pretty cool.”

The ice cream had been forgotten about as Seunghyun pointed out another constellation, telling you all about it. You listened intently, hands still joined. It wasn’t until his phone started buzzing that both of you were brought out of your stargazing haze. He frowned as he looked at the text telling him they needed him at the training complex. With a heavy sigh, he jumped off the hood, holding his hand out to help you down.

“I gotta go.”

“I know.”

The silence settled between you. It was evident to anyone that neither of you wanted to leave each other. Seunghyun was stalling, trying to soak up as much time with you as he could. You were about to open your mouth to speak when he beat you to it. “Hey, a couple of us are going to check out that fair in town so… if you want to come… with me, that’d be cool.”

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You rushed the words out. It should’ve been embarrassing how eager you sounded but the radiant smile on Seunghyun’s made it impossible to.

“Cool, cool. Meet you there at 7 tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

Seunghyun said his goodbye and left you alone with your thoughts. At first his had just been a friendship but now, you could see the small fragments of something else seeping through the cracks. It was just a matter if you wanted to lose yourself in those feelings or keep it strictly friendly.

Regardless, you couldn’t help but be excited to see Seunghyun again tomorrow. Maybe you’d have to come prepared with some corny space jokes of your own just for him.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @justsisse @sherrayyyyy @loveesiren @aizshallnotbefound @gdinthehouseee @berfgrimm @fleabagspurplewife @flymetothexmoon @gemzyy @bettelaboure @breakmeoff

[wonjuii]

Hi, I do think exposing is childish but... I want to warn people. Ever since, like around 2024, august? I was invited to a groupchat, filled with people who posts on tumblr! some were ppl i didnt know about. And.. there is marie. I thought marie was a sweet person at first, didnt talk to her since i didnt know her that much. ever since the month grew, there's a chaos drama about dodo. (i am not bringing it up that much but it will be some information direct to that chaos)

it was around... october? I dont know but lets forget that! past 3 days, marie was being too dramatic, calling me and @awwriri sensitive. (just to tell you that, I can reclaim the slurs since i took an irl test but idk if its a thing since the doctor said "it was to check if i have autism" but it was positive i guess!) It was during the lil-liaa chaos. I didnt want to say the r slur to her but i ended up saying it since there were alot of things happening. As you can tell, i asked permission to say the slur, I was worried if i am really meant to say the slur in the gc. (please anyone dont get uncomfortable!) all of the sudden, she called me insensitive..? I didn't know asking permission is considered impolite or insensitve.. we all had a small talk with marie. everything went a little okay (I assumed.) there are evidences of our small talk.

I apologised... many times. MANY TIMES. "don't be sorry" i will have to be sorry because you bashed on me and riri bc of the slur now the whole server bc of dodo?? U can't be that serious. I also mentioned that everyone deserve to be forgiven! guess marie cant accept that. I thought riri was the owner of the gc, of course i had to ask her permission but no. she wasnt the owner. i was dumb enough to not check who's really the admin of the gc. When we had a small conversation about slurs, she mentioned she cant reclaim the N WORD bc others used it?... Although she used it when she just said it TWICE. (ITS NOT A RACISM SLUR, SHES AFRICAN)

i was just trying to make a conversation, setting up a new type of topic since i got really annoyed and uncomfortable, talking about slurs. But, she continued, wouldnt even stop ending the conversation about it. I even try to convince her to bring riri back to the gc since we all wanted to see how she is.

.... okay. do u like.. hate riri or something? The fact she argued with riri, MAYBE ALMOST EVERY WEEK. MAYBE EVERY DAY. its just disgusting how shes treating the others like shes the oldest of the gc. (she tried to boss me, telling me not to say the slurs bc im insensitve) just so you know, vivi educated me more about slurs so i am not going to say it. (thank you vivi)

The text may not be necessary, but can't you tell how bad she is? if your assuming its bc her education system or shes young, i was 13, i rarely got into fights. (like twice a year.) most likely, she's to cause tons of fights. my screenshots:

(Please press to read, it might be hard for you to see!)

This is a dodo situation. you may not know why dodo didn't explain why she didn't say anything or mention her reason about ignoring to chei. here it is.

basically, she was moody (mood swings i think) I understood dodo, i have frustration issues so i get really annoyed like almost everyday. just to clarify, were not bashing on chei, this is just to show evidence about marie and things she said! more evidence when she started being rude to me... (i didnt clip that part but others may have seen it, she said something like "no, i dont want to ❤️" something like that)

shes basically thinking we dont care...

(im at the corner at the top, replying to her.) You can tell i apologised to her like many times. shes basically saying dodo doesnt deserve to defend herself because shes a bully..? do you realize what ur doing. its childish.

evidence from dodo about marie talking about dodo in her post!

i cant. this is just annoying me so bad. why is she only asking me to block her ??? im so confused. (AGAIN, please press these evidences to read!)

wow.. i just dont get whats her problem with dodo, me and riri atp?..

sigh. marie tsk tsk.. i just cant believe this. i assumed she was going to expose me but i guess not?.... also another information.. me and vini were just trying to calm her down but she started bashing on her too.

Thank you to anyone to might be reading this. Again, exposing seems childish but its the best way to do it. its for others to be warned, incase! tags : @y-unrei @n-americano @i-mmaculatus @sugarish

@miujo @i-kyujin @aestradairio @awwriri @atsubie

@aeraras @rkivefr @daddldee @p-oisn @kissunoo

@florescita @fairytopea @purinkiss @hourlyhoon

@lvioung @obdosant @tzulipss @j-eongs @yeritos

@yonkiibums @hcvenue @bitchey @babyvoxgirlie

@swhore @bloomqi @kiyeuo @chaeryeos @y-vna

@y-urios @aestradairio @aesverse

god all of that tags is MAD!!!

[eunandonly]

breaking news : love in the headlines !

୨୧ ; kim sunoo dating a med student? no way, he doesn’t mix well with you guys! does he even know your name?

pairing! journalismmajor!sunoo x medstudent!reader | wc. 0.9k | warnings: maior fluff, attempted humour, lacking uni knowledge EN-

🖇️ : sunoo version!! he’s such a cutie patootie of course he’s a journalism major ~

i can just imagine sunoo majoring in journalism

like i can picture him interviewing people for the latest newspaper for his university

he's so popular btw

EVERYONE and i mean EVERYONE knows him

he's just so nice to everyone and present in the social dynamics of things you know? - more under cut!!

you could never tbh you can't even answer people's texts

med school is not for the weak

people know sunoo's approaching just from the sound of his ten million keychains on his backpack.

that's how familiar people are with him.

one day you were his new target for his new interview after you won a really impressive award

he was just going through his usual schedule of listening to people's new stories and gossip when someone brought you up

like "oh yeah, that girl named y/n or something won this really cool award for stem, you should definitely interview her!"

let me be honest with you

sunoo had to ask "who's y/n?"

and that's coming from the most popular guy with a social circle larger than the circumference of jupiter

well you’re WAY out of the social orbit with all that work

he did some personal digging and research in hopes to make a little portfolio about you before the interview which proved to be quite difficult

sunoo wants to know why you don't have instagram and why you're not active on snapchat, twitter AND tiktok

in your defence, med school is beating you to pulp

you have the average sleep time of three hours and that’s if the workload is small

you’re basically running on caffeine and that pack of toblerone that doesn’t seem to finish no matter how many bites you have

like it’s not funny anymore

you agree to his request to interview you though even with your busy schedule

free chance to perhaps actually socialise, you can't pass it up yk

sunoo’s actually kind of reluctant about interviewing you

he does NOT mix well with med school kids they’re too serious and studious why did you write studying as your hobby and skill for the stem comp registration

ANYWAYS, this sunoo guy is kinda cute.

you two make plans to meet at the library nearest to campus because you just don't have the energy to go anywhere further after the all nighter you pulled to study

sunoo brings his little microphone and camera and stuff to record the interview

he also brings a really cute digicam decorated with stickers bc sunoo just knows what's up

and of course yall need to take some cute selfies together with the camera even though you two have never talk before bc yolo!

sunoo thinks maybe you’re not so bad afterall

sure you’re burnt out and looking very tired but you’re js fun to talk to

so he asks you some questions regarding the prize you won at some prestigious competition but there’s A LOT of yapping going on.

like A LOT.

it's your first time talking so much with someone you've never talked to before so comfortably

he’s filling you in with some new tea about some of the students in journalism and he just makes it so interesting

it’s almost as if he knows EVERYONE.

well except you. which is a bit sad bc you’ve known about him since the first day

you thought that he was the cutest person ever

tbh you were fawning over him in the hallways and whenever he came into the library whilst you were studying medicine bc he's a cutie patootie

but anyways you tell him about the shit that does down in the science department

he’s hanging onto every word you say and making plans of doing a little article on med bc shit is interestingggg

like wdym the girl's best friend got with her ex boyfriend three days after they broke up UMMM

ok sunoo thought you guys are some different type of species that don’t have time for messy scandals like that

i mean it’s clear YOU don’t have time for messy scandals like that

your attempt at covering up your dark circles failed terrifically and there’s notes written in permanent marker on your arm

bitch why do you have biology diagrams on your skin

sunoo asks if yall can meet again soon and ofc you say yes despite being close to death from school

bc wdym sunoo js asked you to meet up again

THE kim sunoo. wanting to see you again.

little do you know, sunoo also thinks you’re cute ^^ (but he doesn’t appreciate the way you keep using fancy science words)

and you guys meet at a cute cafe near campus to work on assignments together

and sunoo is so helpful

he’s helping you with your essay and you finished it so fast now you have more time to study genetics and do calculus

and you two get cute little pastries and drinks to eat and take a million of pictures

sunoo’s photography skills are no joke btw he knows exactly what angle looks good

ofc he snaps away some pictures and videos of you on his digicam bc you just look so cute in your little dress

oh and you guys just had to take some pics with your sonny angels and smiskis as well which turned out so cute

and you guys walk back to campus after

and sunoo holds your hand (*faints*)

ofc you’re so flustered, and sunoo laughs at your flushed face

“you’re cute when you’re flustered” JDJDKODKSKA

you two are the cutest couple in campus. period.

lots of trips to photo booths, shopping sprees and cute cafe dates THIS IS TOO CUTE I CAN'T

oh yeah, and sunoo has officially appointed himself to keep your fourth cup of coffee away from you to prevent possible mishaps

✉️ : @icyy-hoon

[jin-jamm-desu]

*°•_:JJK Headcanons:_•°*

;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;_;

!!!Fluff, ❌🍋(no smut)!!!

Featuring/Pairing: Itadori Yuji, Fushiguro Megumi, Kento Nanami, Inumaki Toge

(These are the (some) main people I absolutely know how to write for,

please give me ideas if you don't see someone/thing you'd like to see. <3)

*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::* °×•×°×•×°×•×°First Date°×•×°×•×°×•×°

Itadori Yuji: ° Your first date and 1 month' aversarry (1 month' anniversary) is gonna take place at a cat/pet cafe.

° No exeptions

° Itadori is gonna have a ball with you regardless of where your first date is, but he know how much you like cats/(other animals).

° All of his attention is on you as you take pictures of the animals and eat the cute food.

° He can barely take his eyes off of you <3

° He fell first and fell harder.

° He is the type of guy to bring you a bunch of unnecessary gifts (like Gojo) at random times

° Except his gifts are cuter and personalized (unlike Gojo)

° Love language is definitely Acts of Service and Quality Time

° He just loves seeing you happy and safe and that's all that really matters to him at this point.

° Honest to God, brags about how cute you are to anybody who'd listen: his friends, his teachers, your pets, somebody's child, random pictures YOU NAME IT

° Takes you to the movies afterwards (he looked for good movies with the help of Junpei (😭💕))

° Somehow ate 3 (full size) plates of food at the cafe before you had to ask him, "HOW DID YOU EAT ALL THAT? ARE YOU OJAY??? YUJI ITS BEEN 15 MINUTES SINCE WE SAT DOWNNN!!??!??!!"

° Gives you a soft kiss on the hand and then cheek once you get home

° Your name is filled with hearts and stars on his contacts bc it's cute

Fushiguro Megumi:

° He didn't know how much was too much so he took you for a cute park-picnic date

° He makes sure to bring lots of water and fresh fruit because its midday.

° He also brought (favorite cake flavor) to share <3

° Likes to look at all the dogs he sees and tell you everything he knows about them

° He blushes so hard when you compliment/flirt with him (if you dyed his hair he'd look like a damn tomato)

° (my headcanon) He talks about how he'd like to be a veterinarian when he gets older because he doesn't want animals to live the same life he lived at one point

° His point blank resting glare scares off anyone who tries to talk to the both of you

° Keeps getting the sneaking suspicion that Itadori, Nobara and Gojo are talking about him (he got really irritated at one point, that's how he knows)

° Has the cutest giggles when a bee lands near your nose

° Brings butterfly/dinosaur charms for you because he thinks you look cute when you talk about them.

° Leaves the picnic area better than he found it because he's just responsible like that

° Takes you too a pretty garden area where he gifts you (favorite flower)

° Kisses your hand goodbye (I faint)

° Told his classmates and teacher that the date was nice and nothing else (💀)

° Your contact has a picture he secretly took of you and thought was cute

Kento Nanami

° The epitome of class

° I swear he just keeps raising the damn bar

° Picks you up in the late afternoon/ evening

° Dinner at a nice restaurant (I think it's French/Louisianan cuisine)

° He bought a present for you because he saw it on the way to his car to pick you up

° A nice walk to set up for a good conversation

° He made sure that everything was so perfect, found a great path (walkable in flats/heels) that you can see the stars when you look up

° Calls you - My Lady - (see that capitalization?)

° Wanted to bust out in his singing voice when he heard MCR playing from somewhere (he's a diehard fan at heart and we all know it)

° Very excited to tell you about how much he likes bread (he prefers fresh made over store bought and loves to laugh at the silly designs on his sourdough)

° Almost choked on his spit when he thought he saw Satoru somewhere but it turned out to be flowers or sum.

° It was Satoru, he wanted to be a nosy bat and see what Nanami was doing since the couldn't annoy him today

° Very attentive to little details when you describe things things you (dis)like so he can be ready for future dates

° In his bag he definitely has chapstick, a notepad (he's so orderly), some mints and he made sure to pack a pair of slippers for you just in case your feet hurt at any point

° He's such a gentleman and he's so nice and respectful to the servers during dinner

° Makes sure to walk you to your door once he gets you home safely

° Puts a 💕 next to your name in his contacts.

° (Gojo is called 'The Annoying One 🤞😒' in his contacts, the only other one with emojis)

Inumaki Toge

° This chronically online ass mfker.

° He challenged you to a Fortnite battle

° It's a gaming date.

° So much mogging. You hit him with a 🗿🔥🐺 and he got quiet

° SALMONNN!!! 😭😭🙏

° POLLACK ROE 😤😡😤😤

° Rice 💕🥰😚😍

° MUSTARD LEAF¿¿‽‽!!¿??

° Then Super Smash Bros™

° Soon y'all we're laughing your asses off at the villager prisons on your newly created Minecraft server.

° The unhealthiest amount of junk food known to man kind

° I'm convinced he consumes Redbull and gummy bears like water and air.

° When a creep kept pressing you on the internet he took over as your big strong man (he's shorter than 5'9, I checked 💀😭)

° Legit kept calling himself The Skibidi Alpha Pack Leader™ and how much he want (the creep) to join his gang of Loners™

° Uses (🗿🙏🗣️🗿🌶️💬🥇📢🩼🎯🍃🐺🌘) religiously and unironically

° In all seriousness he does love you though. He's so glad he has someone he can laugh with and talk to (using text to speech- ofc it's set to Gigachad Voice)

° Absolutely the best at lifting you up when your sad because you humor has been marinated in the TikTok algorithm and is peak

° When he calls he uses facetime so you can see his reactions and his eyelashes that are always on fleek

° He passes little notes to you when he can't express his words through ingredients: "Your laugh is pretty <3",,, "That (game)skin is so cute, it goes well with your weapon",,, "Thank you for coming out with me, I like you a lot<333"

° Afterwards he gifts you little trinkets from when we was at the mall one time.

וװDid you like it?°×•× וװGot requests/recommendations?°×•×

*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*::*

[zzencat]

Final Spouse’s Energy If You Met Them Now (+ how they would be like dating you) - Current ⏳

Left to right. Choose the photo that you can’t get your eyes off of.

Where are they now? How are they doing? How would things be like if they were in my life now? May include some SUGGESTIVE comments, but is still very much SFW. I may have gotten carried away with this.

Note: This is your future spouse’s CURRENT energy, which may be prone to change within the next couple of years (ex: more maturity, better developed skills/assets, etc.) But if you were to meet your future spouse now, this is how their energy would look like.

DO BEFORE PICKING: Clear your mind. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill up your chest to the fullest, feel the air brush against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.

———————

Pile 1. “Hey. Hi, I guess?”

• very chill atm, very content with life. Goes with what life delivers to them (that’s pretty cute ngl)

• chill buuuut can be too chill to a fault. Not nonchalant but rather an innocent, “oh I didn’t know you were bothered by that *scratches head awkwardly* — think: Fred liu type of energy

• handles conflict calmly (they might be freaking out inside tho)

• likable and friendly person. Gets along with others well, tho they don’t seem too close with. They have only a handful of close friends, and it’s slightly difficult them to see people outside of that circle as close — selective with who they consider friends. If you got in a conflict with this person’s friends, it would def hurt your person a lot. Ofc they would want to hear both sides out with an unbiased view. (they won’t side with you just bc you’re dating btw, but they’ll let you know as gently as possible)

• doesn’t really have the capacity to yell at people. They’re pretty reserved or have solid emotional control

• definitely could be a loner. LOVES late night walks in the breeze, just the two of you, holding hands or talking or doing wtv- they really don’t care what it is bc it’s with you. I keep seeing this play out in my head tho, where a person with a grey hoodie, hood-on, hands in pockets, walks by your place at night and pretends they dropped something or makes some sort of excuse to see you even for a few minutes. ^^This is when they like the person tho- not actually dating (yet). They will take the chance to either invite you to walk with them (with or without excuse) or hope that you invite yourself lmfao 😂. OR they’ll lean on your doorframe and ask how you are, have a little chat, and every time you think of an answer or your eyes drift away while thinking, they’ll take the chance to check you out (not body, but facial features.) No thoughts in their mind, just how your face just…makes sense(?) to them? 😂😂 Pile 1, like, their eyes will trace the lines, curves, and dips of your face. If you have horrendous eye bags or dark circles, they’ll think it compliments your face somehow. Like you just “make sense” is what I’m hearing. The vibe I’m feeling is that they’re in stage 0 of this potential relationship—like they’re trying to figure out if they just like being around you or if they’ve actually grown romantic feelings for you. In this moment, they’re possibly at that point of figuring out that they DO have feelings for you and this little moment confirms it (altho they’ll push it back until they get home.) >>> (***little note here: they won’t mast*rbate thinking abt you yet and prob for a few weeks to months, bc this is still too early on for them, esp when they’ve just started to like you. It’s more of a respect thing for them- and ESPECIALLY if they haven’t gotten any signs that you like them back. After a couple of months (still not dating you), you could pop into a few of their fantasies tho, but only for a very brief flash. But again, the restriction is there IF yall aren’t tgt yet.)

• can be naive, and probably lets people walk over them too much/has too many open windows for others to take advantage of them. They have to learn to set boundaries properly and stand up for themselves. They will defend the people they love tho. They just let it go when it comes to themselves

• good natured, clean, and has good hygiene. You won’t see pube hairs (or hair in general) in their shower drain. They don’t mind cleaning it either- could honestly clean the house w no problem. It’s therapeutic for em

• pretty responsible person. Won’t argue if you tell them to clean smth or do the dishes. They’ll just do it

• amazing listener, willing to compromise/give you time. Will apologize even if they’re not in the wrong

• they don’t care abt your financial status as long as you’re responsible with money/show maturity over it

• perceptive of other’s emotions to an extent, and especially when dating you, they will pay attention to yours and your reaction to different things. If you look like you’re goin thru smth, they’ll ask right away. The concern on their face is unmistakable

• dresses up helllla nice for a date. Sometimes, subtly sexy and not even on purpose. BUT, there’ll be times where they’ll be in the mirror like “hm, looks kinda see-thru and kinda sexy…I’ll wear it since I know [y/n] will like it.” But they don’t expect you to jump them that night or anything. May hint at it and tease you thru out date night. (The “innocent” gaslighting might be goin crazy tho)

• forgives easily but they’d rather take the hurt than be mean to you

• extremely loyal. Absolutely no interest in anyone else aside from their partner. I don’t think they have the energy for anyone more than you either hahaha

• turns down their friends to hang out with you

• has a lot to say/wants to be heard but sometimes gets self conscious of speaking (as if they’ve said too much) even tho they’ve said the least in the room

• tall or there’s a height difference between you two

Points of Interest: Fred liu’s energy is soooo apparent- he’s not going away lmfao HELP, possible MBTIs: infj, enfj, awkward silence, bad jokes when trying to go off of your joke (like realllly bad- they should stick to the simple ones like ikea puns), nerdy, very put together but allows moments of mistakes, mentally stable, a bit boring, will walk your dog with no extra charge, gets your coffee every morning (if you drink it), remembers the little details, might be a bit vanilla in bed, arms around your waist, cares abt the romantic and friendship aspects more than the sexual relief, smiles more when you’re around, observant as HELL, remembers to pick up your meds, remembers important dates and times, very considerate and kind, simple watch, humble, “how about we make that one thing you like?”, homebody, doesn’t overdress (sometimes underdresses tho), very gentle and good hearted, learns your language to bond with you more, a total romantic and daydreamer, bro gets talkative in their mindddd (the scenario above prob came from them but shhh)

————————-

Pile 2. “I like the way you laugh. Eheheheh.” - Justin Bieber Interview

• a whole ass clown. Nah I mean “make you laugh until you die” kind of clown. Won’t stop even if you’re dying and gasping for air. LOVES to hear you laugh. They somehow have an intensive arsenal of jokes and will adjust depending on people’s humor- and they’re very good at this

• extroverted and TALKATIVE. Will go to Yapville and come back. Will share a lot with you and expects your feedback. Doesn’t matter if you’re an introvert or extrovert, they wanna hear your thoughts and opinions

• also they may have good leadership skills and are witty. The only issue with this is that they might be too agreeable sometimes- they want what’s ultimately best for everyone involved. The agreeableness thing is a 50/50 thing tho and applies to only some people in this pile, while the others’ future spouses will make better decisions and more sound judgments depending on the situation and what kind of person they are.

• they also don’t like to correct people’s wrongs, but rather show people how to do something. Some fs in this pile tho, can’t call people (you included) out on bs or mistakes. This may be an issue (since they might value harmony so much). This isn’t the best trait to have if you’re thinking abt kids in the future

• also if you have a dumb ass idea, they’ll hype it up and won’t think it’s dumb at all. They’ll be very supportive. Won’t ever make you feel crazy, unless you crack a joke more unhinged than they ever have/or you ever have. Maybe you’re not the type to until you meet them

• I will say, I don’t think they’re that much taller than you

• they’re so unserious sometimes that you can’t believe they’re as responsible as they are.

• somehow always knows the best places to go for a date or if you guys have extra time

• also don’t be surprised if it’s your birthday and they tell the restaurant staff to bring out the whole cake and candles, even mariachi band- be prepared that shit’s kinda crazy 😂 If you don’t like attention in general, I can’t save you in this relationship lmfaoooo

• they’re also pretty optimistic and prepared for emergencies. The type to track your period if you have em lmfao- *they get the notif on their phone* “oh you’re starting your period next week. Sweet.” “How’d you know that?” You ask, and they’ll say casually “Cuz I got the app.” *flashes you their screen w/ app open* and will browse it some more.

• these people are kinda crazy bc if they’re a parent in the future, they’ll bring a whole colossal ass backpack to an amusement park while carrying your kid. They don’t even care if it makes them look weird

• they probably have a weird feature(s) on their face or body that you love. You think it’s charming on them and while society might consider it weird or not conventionally attractive, they’ve figured out how to make it work

• doesn’t really struggle with jealousy. If anything, their form of jealousy is making you laugh even harder or doing something ridiculous to get your attention back on them and off the other person

• ^ they really do like your attention. They also love when you share things you’ve learned with them or you get them involved/inform them in on something you’ve been working on, reading, studying, watching, whatever it is, they’ll be interested. They’ll watch that dumb reality tv show you’re watching. You could even catch them up with some gossip/drama and they’d be invested af

• tbh im not feeling that they’ll ever be bored with you, regardless if you can keep up with their energy or not, because they’ll make you keep up 😭

• one sad bit I have to mention is that they probably have gone through something in the past where they weren’t on guard so they lost the person/opportunity. [I’ll keep this vague. The person doesn’t want me to dwell on it too much. They don’t want you to be fixed on negative things.] This event has stuck with them ever since and they feel that they can’t afford to make that mistake again. If you acknowledge their efforts in a serious conversation or just a random totally unrelated moment, they’ll very much appreciate that. More than you know.

Points of Interest: Getting a whole enfj vibe in here (healthy AND unhealthy enfjs), possibly enfp, entp, esfj, estp, esfp, surprise birthday parties, *dramatic gasping*, maybe likes drinking tea or making tea (esp one that’s pale-yellow colored- idk the name) and drinking it at night(???) speaking of which, night owl, flexible, will make time for you, “it’s okay! I got it!”, confident, on top of things, “sleep is for the weak” says while eye twitches, switch/versatile in bed—does not mind trying new things (they don’t even care how good or bad you are in bed. If they wanna spice it up, they will take the reigns if you don’t, with no problem), will try their best at anything and everything, the responsible class clown, loves board games, masculine and feminine energy is balanced well, probably a masochist bc they like to stress themselves out with all sorts of duties and responsibilities, very good at adapting, open to new cultures/living in countries completely different from them- weirdly, I’m seeing an Australian guy exploring the wild (…maybe that sort of thing excites them), “if you move, I move. No exceptions”, best parent award, “positions” by Ariana grande

———————-

Pile 3. “Hm.”

• in a bit of a stump. Probably has a part time job or multiple to support themselves on their own, but it’s better than being in their last situation.

• introvert. MAJOR introvert.

• minimalist

• straightforward, doesn’t beat around the bush

• not getting the vibe that they’re dating atm — single energy, but not really bothered by it

• would have a pet (eh, maybe) if they could afford to, since they neither have the time nor resources

• they would prob turn you down the first time you ask them out OR they ask you out but in a timid/unconventional/at a later period. I don’t think they have too much dating experience either (and I thought Pile 1 was a loner)

• tsundere type of energy

• the type to say they don’t want kids but when y’all get together, they start thinking abt it a lot, and may hint at it

• good at saving up money, bc they don’t really spend on much. but will work hard to buy you something expensive if they don’t think their efforts for you are enough OR if they don’t think they’re enough for you in general

• doesn’t care what other people think. Could care less if you don’t look your best on some days, have some break outs here and there or a lip filler gone horrendously wrong — if they love you, they LOVE you fr (…should prob sue that doc tho...)

• (expanding on the last point) generally, they don’t care what others think. HOWEVER !!! when you guys start dating, one or both of you (but especially on their side) will struggle with self-esteem issues. Be careful with this, because they will fall for you DEEPLY and literally can’t get out of it —> you’ve shown that you love them unconditionally, regardless of anything, and will be there for them no matter what. Pile 3, you’re pretty soft energy- I get burrito blanket/animal onesie type feels. Back to my point, if you’re not reassuring enough or emotionally available for this person when they open up, it could turn into a toxic relationship where you fall out of love first OR you get trapped in the cycle and now both of yall are depressed af.

• they don’t fall for people easily, like at all, so the obsession will be amplified by a million fold if they ever lose you. The idea of that crushes them and could take a huge mental health toll. It seems they could have leftover resentment from childhood (be it school, family, friends…). If they open up to you, that’s an honor. (At this point, they probably even trust you with their life, don’t tell anyone the info)

• In the worst case possible, you could get someone like this but feel an uneasy weird feeling around them. I’d advise you to keep you distance cuz that ain’t yo person. Obsession can get really bad with this group’s fs. Like real down bad bad. Like put a gps on your car bad. If you meet a person this creepy, don’t stick around in their life and definitely don’t have them stick around in yours. Chances are, this is a karmic person and they’ve come into your life as a reflection of your own insecurities or obsessive tendencies.

• VERY SMART. Can be calculative to protect themselves and those they love

• on the bright side, a well developed pile 3 future spouse enjoys solitude and has managed trauma very well. Tho they might seem socially inept, they’re prob just blunt and honest. They will tell you like it is. Will literally do anything for you, uncharacteristic, even if they look like an idiot on the street

• prefers more intimate settings alone or with you. With another friend? ehh…they prob won’t go

• will only go out if you go out, bc it’s you

• either secretly freaky in the sheets or inexperienced

• jealous easily and is very possessive. They don’t have too many people around them they deem trustworthy so this reaction is to be expected

• this person handles aggressive or violent behavior well. It doesn’t freak them out. (Also right now at 3:01 pm where I’m at, their energy is very hesitant to give out the reason why so perhaps when you meet them and gain their trust, they will tell you.) {P.s I’m asking them very specific and personal questions on the side rn and the silence speaks volumes. I won’t pry any further but they ask that you have some empathy, since they’re not sure how you’d see them.}

• another p.s.: 3:09 pm I think I’ve exposed too much here. There was a strong resistance at the end since it’s so vulnerable and close to their core that it freaks them out to be outed for strangers to see and read about. I won’t say anymore about their past. I’ve also become more careful of my wording - but I will say this for their sake. There is a strong desire to change in this person tho so being someone who brings positive influence into their lives. Someone who can prove that there are still good people in the world.

Points of Interest: istp, intp, entj, intj, istj, either good memory or doesn’t care to rmr (no in between. It varies from person to person, their values and where the info is coming from), notices every little detail, doesn’t care about your flaws, desensitized if you have breakdowns, unexpectedly a good comfort person. Again, a lot of resistance and hesitation, so I won’t say any more abt them. Ooh, ominous. Also, do you struggle with gut issues? Or smth diet related? Could be a whack diet. Okay, I had to go back and delete an important piece of info I put in initially but there’s a lot of disapproval over it. I will throw a small hint out since they’re allowing me to; it’s related to growing up. They don’t want me to be specific abt the period of when but that’s what you get just as a preface. I can tell they want to tell someone about it though. There’s just no one they trust. Also, rmr I said they don’t care abt what others think? Apparently, they care strongly abt what YOU think. It almost feels regretful? Embarrassing? To admit/write this. Thanks pile 3. That’s all you’re getting out of me today.

——————-

*Teddy Note: Teddy here!! I hope your day is going smoothly wherever you’re at! We’re back again with another reading and this time, it was a bit heavier to take in. I mean, this is future spouse we’re talking about so there’s definitely going to be a handful. I have to mention briefly, this is the first time I’ve ever felt a clear shiver against my body when doing a reading. Like a full on force that left me blinking like “wtf just happened…” Especially for a certain pile, who doesn’t want me putting them in the light too much. I saw someone with so much guilt on their face, but they looked so…small? Innocent? Youthful? As if they hadn’t done anything wrong in their life, it’s just that people looked at them…not wrong, but differently? It’s uncomfortable to find the word even after finishing the reading but “differently” undermines their experience and what they’ve been through. But they also don’t want to use a more negative word to describe it either so I’ll leave it there. Thank you for reading!! Remember, take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. I would appreciate any constructive feedback and if you guys reblogged with what pile you chose. It helps a practicing reader like me learn to be more accurate and aligned! Until the next reading, Teddy outttt 😎😎

[murder-cookie-dust393]

Ok, ok you don't need to write anything for this if you don't wanna, BUT I don't have anyone to talk yandere stuff with so imma rant about one of my favs here quickly.

So caramel arrow right? Her whole life as been working hard to be the best dark cacao warrior, even when she was younger or her dough would crack, she would train and when she was banished her loyalty never wavered. Not once.

Untill, she meets reader cookies during her banishment, let's say you left a little after she was banished bc you could see how bad things were getting there. So middle, middle you become friends and travel together protecting the villages and what-not.

But after a while carrow finds herself looking to the reader for emotional support and guidance during this time, so she ends up being just as [if not more] loyal to reader cookie than dark cacao cookie. [I mean, if dark cacao dosent want her back then why should she go?]

Because of that she has this big dilemma about her loyalty to the king vs to the reader, personally I imagine she would try to run away or force the reader to leave with her because her obsession would win against her loyalty to the dark cacao kingdom.

Anyway wall of text done ^^u I don't really write, so sorry if it's not verry readable.

Don't forget to drink water btw ^^

A Grip Too Strong

So initially I was confused when you mentioned like middle and stuff but I realized that I think you meant like- MC is a citizen of the Dark Cacao Kingdom. So I hope I'm getting that right, I'm just mentioning it just in case.

This is my first request in a while, so I kinda just randomly typed out whatever. So if the like point of view or just the general writing style isn't very story-like, that's on me. I literally just blabbered lmao

Another point I want to make is that Caramel Arrow isn't filling in her canonical role of the story. I just wanted to point that out because it'll make sense towards the end.

Tw: kidnapping, overly clingy (but also not??)

Caramel Arrow was extremely saddened and frustrated by her king's willingness to banish her under Affogato's untruthful tongue. She felt so alone without her comrades by her side and her job, which she had trained so vigorously for. Yet she carried on, her determination still brewing within her heart.

She was expecting to be alone for who knows how long. To her surprise, she finds one of her people while her usual patrol on a blizzard day. She had spotted the cookie every now and then in the citadel, but she didn't know them at all. She approached them, confused as to why they were leaving; after all, she is the most loyal to his majesty.

"May I question why you are leaving the kingdom?" Caramel Arrow puts away her bow, tapping the toe of her boots to get the extra snow off.

"Oh. You are Caramel Arrow Cookie, I assume? I'm not sure if you know this, but the Kingdom has been crumbling the last few months.." The cookie responds, shifting the pack on their back slightly.

"Oh no. It's probably under the hands of that sickening Affogato. Is it really that terrible?" Caramel Arrow makes a concerned face, wondering just how bad the kingdom's state is.

"The food is scarce, and the soldiers are slaving away trying to reinforce the wall. It's definitely taking a toll on every cookie within the citadel." They answered, glancing back at the wall that defended the citadel from the Licorice Sea.

"I see. What is your name?" Caramel Arrow changes the topic, not wanting to wallow in the negativity any longer.

"MC Cookie." They respond, making a small smile.

—————————————————————————

Since then, MC and Caramel Arrow have travelled together. On the patrols, Caramel Arrow hunted the beasts, while MC gathered supplies or helped the villagers recover from the attacks. The two worked diligently as a team, surviving in the cold snowy lands outside the citadel.

After a few months, the two became good friends. They were each other's comfort during times of struggle. They opened up about each other's childhood stories or embarrassing moments. At night, they would stay up later than usual chattering about lots of topics. Although Caramel Arrow had been separated from her comrades, she found herself enjoying MC's presence a lot.

As their relationship with each other gets closer, Caramel Arrow continues to indulge in MC's presence. Soon, she confides in their comfort. She tells them her worries for the kingdom, and the sadness she feels for her king abandoning her; especially when she had been so loyal to him from a young age.

MC patted her shoulder, responding, "You have every right to feel sad and betrayed. The king might be meddling in problems he sees most important, like the wall. I'm sure the advisor doesn't help either. Your banishment is not your fault at all. It's a misjudgment on the king's end." MC makes proper eye contact with her, trying to properly communicate their thoughts to her.

The archer sighs, her posture a little deflated. She mumbles back, "Yeah, I suppose you're right. I would be lying if I said it doesn't hurt though."

MC notices she was still a ball of sadness. They glance around in thought, trying to find something that could make her happy.

Snow.

"Can I ask..." MC hesitates, pausing for a single second. They continue, "Did you do snow fights when you were a kid?" They make a smile, kicking some of the thick snow.

Caramel Arrow was a little caught off guard but managed a grin. "Of course! What citizen of the Dark Cacao Kingdom has never played a snowfight?"

Within minutes, the two cookies had two snow forts built and hurling snowballs at each other as fast they could. Perhaps childish, but the nostalgia was definitely there. Poor MC has to dodge as many snowballs as they can, Caramel Arrow has such an excellent aim. They laugh and banter at each other, a friendly competition rising.

Soon, they tire from the play, laughing at each other as they're both covered in snow. They're sat next to each other on a nearby log, still poking fun at each other.

"My fort was prettier than yours!" MC challenges, smiling so much they're mouth is getting tired.

"Well, mine was more practical for the actual thing! Decorations don't matter in the play of war!" Caramel Arrow laughs, slinging an arm around MC's shoulders.

"Still, at least mine was nice to look at!" They lean closer from the arm weighing down on their body. Their posture was slightly bent.

"Funny." She pauses, looking over at their face. "I'm glad you suggested the idea. It really reminds me of home..." She smiles, slightly sadly.

MC pats her back. "Don't get all mopey now, we're still at home. There's still a bunch of snow everywhere and the black sea full of ugly monsters." They try to comfort her with some humor.

She chuckles, "Yeah, you're right. We're still at home."

—————————————————————————

As the Cookies of Darkness and Affogato were overthrown by Gingerbrave and his companions. Caramel Arrow was given an invitation to return to the kingdom once more as a Watcher. MC was overjoyed for her, knowing she could finally be happy again. They themselves were ready to return back to the kingdom since the overall state was much better than prior.

But to everyone's surprise, Caramel Arrow refuses to go back inside the citadel. She refuses to let MC move back within the citadel. She wanted to explore the world and spend her days having with them.

"Caramel Arrow, this is our home. We can't just leave it. Everything's okay now. You can get your job back!" MC pleaded, trying to convince Caramel Arrow that they should return.

"Why? That place no longer feels like home. The betrayal, has affected me in ways I've never felt before." She explains, shaking her head. The frown on her face only supplemented her disappointment.

"I know that but- but you can start anew! Your comrades miss you! You protect the kingdom greatly. They need you, Caramel Arrow." MC tries to reason, taking her hand with their gloved one.

"MC, that's not what I want in life anymore. This isn't home for me. You're my home. I want to explore the world, and have fun with you. Only you. If I have to suffer, I want to suffer with you." She firmly states, pulling them closer to her.

"...But I don't want to leave! I'm not meant to travel the world. I like home." MC grows a bit panicked, finding her behaviour abnormal. Didn't she love her homeland? Wasn't her loyalty to the king?

"Don't worry, you are. I'm always with you. I'll protect you." She picks up MC swiftly, putting them over her shoulder. She immediately starts to trudge away from the citadel. The Sun's gleam beating down on the two.

"H-Hey! Let me down! Caramel Arrow! Listen to me!" MC struggles against her, but her grip is too strong.

Just like her loyalty to them. Too strong.

—————————————————————————

Idc how buff you are, that girl is a buff kween and will absolutely pick you up.

This kept expanding and expanding as I wrote help- I didn't expect it to be this long. I have homework to do lmao.

But I really liked this one! The chronological order helped me adjust to writing again.

Comments and thoughts, you may blabber all you want.

- Celina