#it just Feels Wrong. sounds are Wrong. it's too quiet. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kittysarchive · 1 day ago

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Toxicity

warnings- toxic relationship, smut, head cannons, teasing, insults, dom enhypen, jealous enhypen, manipulative enhypen, crappy boyfriends,smut, mostly mean or hard dom enhypen

Heeseung

Heeseung’s toxic trait would be his ability to twist situations to make you feel guilty, even if he’s the one at fault.

He overthinks everything, making you feel like every little thing you do is under scrutiny.

If he’s in a bad mood, he’ll shut you out completely, leaving you guessing what went wrong.

When it comes to him in bed all of these traits merge together

If he cums to early, your fault

If your too quiet, are you cheating! You not cumming tonight

He'll even be quiet in bed, making you think that he should be the one getting the pleasure.

smut-

There were tears in your eyes. Through the loud sound of skin lapping and heeseungs own mumbles, you didn't want to make a sound, you didn't want to disrupt his pleasure.

And so he kept thrusting hard while painfully gripping onto your tours, squeezing them until they were people. What did you actually do to get here?

"do you wanna apologize" Heeseung grunts above you,not once slowing his pace.

"f-for what?" Heeseung quickly pulls out, his delusions tired I you lying. But what had you done? Was saying hello the male barista bad? You were just being polite. Heeseung sighs, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"you know what,you always go around trying to cheat or create a fling behind my back" he grips you legs harshly, pulling them towards you to create a mating press.

"but I always gotta fuck the sense back into my slut' a continues now gripping his cock, waiting for your apology.

"I'm sorry....I won't do it again" you say through pain, this position was uncomfortable, it was burning your legs but saying that would just make him upset, again.

Seeming content, Heeseung opens the draw beside the bed, pulling out the lube. Your skin goes cold as he squeezes it out onto his fingers. Feeling the cold slime on your ass, you knew it was going to be a painful night.

Jay

Jay could be the type of toxic boyfriend who’s overly possessive and jealous,

constantly questioning who you’re talking to and where you’ve been. He’d act like it’s because he “cares too much,” but it would start to feel suffocating.

When angry, he might lash out with harsh words, but he’d always try to win you back with grand gestures every single time.

smut-

Your legs are pulled against you like a mating press, you've gotten used to the pain since this was one of the very limited positions he knew about it at least liked.

"fucking slut, your my girl" he rams his cock into you. Yeah maybe you shouldn't have tried to make small talk while at the bus stop.

"did you want to go home with him huh? Or did you want me to fuck you on the bench right next to him, slut" Jay laughs as if it's some inside joke. You keep quiet, muttering the occasional sorry while teary eyed.

"you see there" he's almost talking to himself as he sees the bulge in your stomach.

"I did that, he couldn't" he presses down on the bulge, groaning at how it feels. A moan slips out of you when he presses down.

"yeah I know my girl well".

Jake

Jake would be the charming toxic boyfriend who knows exactly how to make you forgive him, even when he’s clearly in the wrong.

He’d use his sweetness and affectionate side to manipulate you into thinking you’re overreacting.

If you caught him lying, he’d flip the script and make you feel guilty for doubting him.

smut-

"C'mon baby, if I was cheating I wouldn't enjoy this so much" he says pulling his mouth away from your pussy. You had caught him sending nudes to a random girl online and here he was gas lighting you.

His mouth returns to your pussy, latching onto your clit. His tongue swirls along your clit making you squirm. You couldn't stay mad at him forever though, not when you get this nearly every day.

His hands spread your thighs apart, affectingly rubbing them as his mouth continue to slurp you clean. Pulling away for a second time, he brings out his puppy's eyes.

"So do you forgive me babe?" he says, his chin dripping with your juices, you nod your head, and he dives back down before saying, "You know I love you, stop making up these delusions"

Sunghoon

Sunghoon’s toxic behaviour would come from his tendency to be emotionally unavailable.

He’d avoid deep conversations or confrontation, leaving you feeling like your emotions don’t matter.

When upset, he’d give you the silent treatment, making you feel ignored and unimportant.

smut-

Licking another stripe along his cock, he still ignores you, scrolling on his phone while you on your knees, sucking him off. It always ends this way.

You give his head kitten licks while you fondle his balls, just what he likes. His cocks hard, red and an evident vein bulging on the side of his cock, but this is as much attention as you get from him. Clearly the kitten licks and teasing weren't working. Taking a breath, you place your mouth onto his cock, you lean your head down trying to fit as much of his length into your mouth.

Nearly gagging over him, you continue to suck. A minute goes by of him still ignoring you, still scrolling on his dam phone. You pull yourself off his cock.

"I'm sorry.... for whatever I did.... I was dumb" You break the silence. Sunghoon scoffs at you, finally putting his phone to the side, giving you the attention you weren't.

"You fucking embarrassed me in front of my friends, you better be sorry" Sunghoon grips onto your hair, pulling your mouth back onto his cock, he didn't want to hear another word from you.

Sunoo

Sunoo’s toxic trait would be his passive-aggressive nature.

He’d drop subtle cutting comments about your choices or appearance, masking them as “jokes.”

When he’s upset, he’d pretend everything’s fine but act cold and distant, making you feel like you have to figure out what’s wrong.

smut-

Lying on his back, he made you do all the work. Already tired from another dumb and pointless argument, you were now 'apologising'.

Rolling your hips over your cock, Sunoo seemed almost bored underneath you, but you wouldn't fully know since you chose to turn away from him, you didn't want to see whatever scowl he was holding.

Lightly bouncing on your cock, usually you didn't see say you were tired, Sunoo would just start thrusting his hips up, giving you a break. But moments like this weren't rare, usually it'd end up with you getting tired, and Sunoo getting mad, that you couldn't even finish him off. So, you pull of his cock and sit between his legs.

"Giving up?" He almost laughs.

"No" you say, placing your mouth onto his cock, sucking slightly.

"Always finding the easy way out" he insults, leaning further back into the pillow, actually enjoying himself.

Jungwon

Jungwon’s toxic side would stem from his perfectionist tendencies.

He’d want things done his way and might criticize you if you don’t meet his high expectations.

His controlling behaviour would make you feel like you’re constantly walking on eggshells, trying not to disappoint him.

smut-

Your on your all fours, doggy style while he rams into your pussy from behind. This was purely for him, he didn't want to see your face know, he just wanted to cum. Being with him really felt like a cum slut sometimes.

You hold back your moans because you couldn't deny, he was a good fuck.

"Thats it, stay fucking still" He groans behind you, spreading your ass cheeks so he can go deeper, and you felt him deep. A moan slips out of you.

"Jeez, do I need to invest in a gag or duct tape? I said be fucking still and quiet and you can't even do one of them" He sends a slap to your ass; a mix of a cry and moan falls out of you. You hear his laugh behind you.

You were glad he couldn't see you, even with him ramming his cock into your pussy and squeezing you ass, you still felt embarrassed, you were literally being used,

NIKI

Niki would be the type of toxic boyfriend who’s hot and cold.

One moment, he’s super sweet and affectionate, and the next, he’s distant and uninterested.

He’d enjoy keeping you guessing about his true feelings, using your confusion as a way to maintain control.

smut-

"You always using me huh? Can't even use your own fingers to get off" He harshly puts two of his fingers inside your already wet pussy. Curling them inside you, your cry out in pleasure.

"Thats right, you're just a dumb bunny, you're practically fucking yourself on my fingers" He comments with a laugh. He wasn't lying, you were rolling your hips on his fingers, trying to gain more friction and he curled them against your gummy walls.

"You're nothing without me" Niki sighs, sugar coating his insult, as he brings his other hand to rub your clit.

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen headcanons #enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen heeseung smut #heeseung smut #jay smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #sunoo smut #jungwon smut #niki smut #kittysarchive!

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niteskysx · 3 days ago

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ghostface nac x reader

Warnings: psychological manipulation, stalking, established relationship ig?

(I wrote this in between appointments over the course of several months… haven't even properly edited this thing, idk how to feel about it. lmk 😭 also, it's not smutty at all, just a collection of drabbles filled with tension, I guess? sjdkejd)

The sound of your frantic breathing filled the quiet of your darkened living room. You pressed yourself against the wall, heart pounding as you clutched a lamp, your last line of defense.

Somewhere in the shadows, you could hear his boots against the floorboards. Slow. Deliberate. He was in no hurry. “I know you’re here,” his voice called out, low and taunting. “Come on out, sweetheart. We both know how this ends.” Tears blurred your vision as you pressed a trembling hand to your mouth, trying to muffle your cries. You’d seen his face—or at least his mask—at the scene of the crime. You’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time, and now he was here to silence you for good. A floorboard creaked nearby. You tried to bolt as fast as possible- “Ah, there she is!” he called out, his tone almost playful as he pursued you.

You ran blindly, crashing into furniture and stumbling in the dark until you reached the hallway. Just as you turned to glance behind you, his hand shot out, gripping your arm. You screamed, wrenching yourself free and stumbling backward, only to trip over a rug and fall to the floor.

You scrambled back against the wall, your knees tucked to your chest as he approached, his knife glinting in the faint light.

The sounds of your sobs filled the room, each breath a desperate gasp as you pressed yourself further into the wall.

The knife was still in his hand, but his posture had changed—no longer looming over you with the intent to kill, but kneeling down to your level, something softer in his eyes, though it remained guarded.

"Please," you gasped between sobs, your hands clutching the fabric of your shirt. "I don’t want to die. Please.”

But something shifted in him. His grip on the knife loosened, and he took a slow step back. For a moment, he simply stared at you, your tears streaking your cheeks, your body trembling like a frightened, frigid ittle thing...

Without a word, he reached up and removed the mask.

Your breath hitched.

He was too handsome to be a killer. His hair was a messy brown. His skin glowed faintly in the dim light, and his eyes—dark, intense—scanned your face with an expression you couldn’t read. He smelled of cologne and sweat, a mixture of danger and something oddly intoxicating.

He crouched down to your level, his hand lowering the knife to the ground, leaving it forgotten on the floor. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice soft now, almost tender. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Your chest heaved as you stared at him, confused and terrified. What was happening?

His eyes stayed fixed on you, his movements slow and deliberate as he leaned closer. You flinched, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he reached out, one hand softly grazing your cheek, wiping away a tear as he whispered, "Hey... it’s okay... it’s okay."

Your lips quivered as you tried to speak, but no sound came out.

“Shh,” he whispered, his thumb tracing your jawline, making you shiver. “It’s okay.” You froze, unsure of what to do. His other hand’s thumb, almost without thinking, traced upon your top and bottom lip.

You didn’t move, your mind spinning as his face inched closer to yours. His breath ghosted over your lips, and you instinctively turned your head slightly, but his hand on your cheek kept you in place. He didn’t want to hurt you, not like this– not anymore. But why?

“Hey,” he murmured again, his voice so soft now it almost broke you. “Look at me.”

Against your better judgment, you did.

“See?” he whispered, his lips barely a breath away from yours. “It’s okay… it’s okay.” He kept repeating it, over and over, like a mantra, as his thumb traced your lips more insistently, his touch growing more desperate and intimate.

You stared up at him, wide-eyed, confused, and fearful. Your voice trembled as you managed to force the words out.

"Wha—what are you doing?" your breath hitched, the confusion still heavy in your voice.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his eyes drifted down to your lips once again, and his hand slowly slid from your cheek to your jaw, fingers gently cupping your face.

Then, without warning, he leaned in closer, his lips brushed against yours in a hesitant, slow motion. You froze, your breath catching in your throat as his lips pressed more firmly against yours. He kissed you deeper then, a rush of heat flooding his chest as his tongue slipped past your lips. You gasped, a sharp sound escaping as you instinctively tensed at the sensation. The kiss, rough and hungry, was a sharp contrast to the gentleness he had shown moments before. He could feel your surprise to the kiss; the way your body stiffened, but he didn’t stop— his hands began moving to your neck, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with an intensity that startled even him.

The warmth of your breath mingled with his… The feel of your heartbeat against his chest as you let out a soft, surprised gasp before the kiss consumed you. The frantic beating of your heart mirrored his own, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away, not when he was so consumed by the moment.

And in that brief moment, everything else- your fear, the trembling… the knife that was once in his hand—seemed to vanish entirely.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

It had been days since he first broke into your apartment. Weeks, actually. Ever since that night, he had been showing up uninvited—always late, always in his usual Ghostface attire. Sometimes just to watch a movie, raid your kitchen, or talk. Other times… to do other things.

The guilt was suffocating, growing heavier with each passing day. This had gone on for too long now. You had to tell someone. That the Ghostface killer—the masked murderer terrorizing the city—was your secret late-night rendezvous. And worse? You didn’t even know his real name!

So, you made a decision. If you couldn’t stop him, if you couldn’t stop yourself, then you could at least try to make sense of it all. Therapy was supposed to help with that, right? Surely, someone would understand.

You clutched your bag tightly as you entered the waiting room, nerves already frayed. This was supposed to be your safe space, the one place where you could untangle the chaos in your mind—especially after him.

But then, as if the universe itself was mocking you, he walked out of the office.

“Thanks, Dr. Goldman. I’ve never felt better!” he said, flashing an exaggerated grin, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Your heart plummeted. No. No, this couldn’t be happening.

There he was, standing in the doorway, hands shoved casually into the pockets of his maroon leather jacket. When his gaze met yours, his smirk spread like wildfire.

“Well, fancy seeing you here,” he drawled, leaning lazily against the doorframe.

You froze, your entire body going cold.

“What… what are you doing here?” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

“Oh, just taking care of my mental health,” he said smoothly, mock sincerity lacing his tone. “Isn’t that what they say? Therapy is good for the soul.”

Dr. Goldman glanced between the two of you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Do you two know each other?”

Nick didn’t hesitate. “Of course,” he said with an easy smirk. “We’ve got history, don’t we?”

You shook your head quickly. “No. We don’t.”

His grin widened. “Don’t be shy,” he teased, stepping closer. His voice dipped into something quieter, something meant just for you. “Tell him how close we’ve gotten.”

Your face burned, anger rising in your chest, but somehow, you couldn’t look away from his gaze.

Dr. Goldman cleared his throat. “Well, [Y/N], I’m ready whenever you are.” He stepped away awkwardly, sensing the tension. “I’ll be in my office.”

As soon as Dr. Goldman disappeared, Ghostface—or Nick, as you’d overheard him introduce himself—took a step closer to you, that cocky grin not leaving his face.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he murmured, his tone casual, but his eyes—sharp, knowing—betrayed him. “But then again… I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. After everything, I’d need a therapist too.”

You swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry. “W-what are you doing here? Are you following me?”

He feigned a look of offense before grinning wider. “What, you think I don’t have issues to work out? Come on, sweetheart, even psychos have feelings.” He leaned in slightly, the scent of his cologne—spice and danger—filling your senses. “But don’t worry. I’m cured now.”

Jaw clenched, you turned sharply, making your way toward the office—until you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist.

Gently. Not enough to hurt, but just enough to stop you.

Then, before you could pull away, he leaned in close, breath warm against your ear. His voice was nothing more than a whisper.

“Go ahead,” he murmured. “Tell him all about me.”

Your knees nearly buckled.

But you forced yourself to keep moving, stepping into the office with your entire body trembling.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

You're curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, the soft hum of the TV filling the empty space around you. Your hair is pulled up in a messy bun, a few strands falling loose against your face. The house feels too quiet without your parents here—eerily still, like it's waiting for something. Every small creak of the walls settling makes your stomach tighten, every shadow in the dim light of the screen seems darker, deeper.

You try to shake the feeling, telling yourself it’s just your imagination. But then—

You hear a sound of the back door clicking shut.

Your entire body goes rigid. The kitchen.

Your breath catches in your throat as you strain to listen. Footsteps. Slow, deliberate. The unmistakable rustle of someone moving through your house.

Not again...

“Nice place,” his familiar, cocky voice called out from the kitchen.

Your stomach twists. No. No, no, no. How did he get in?

You shove the blanket off, your heartbeat a frantic hammering in your ears as you rush toward the kitchen.

There he was, rummaging through the cabinets like he owned the place. His leather jacket hung loosely on his broad shoulders, and his fluffy hair was slightly disheveled. He radiated a casual arrogance that both terrified and infuriated you.

“What are you doing here?” you demand, your voice sharp, desperate to keep steady.

He doesn’t even look at you, instead pulling out a box of cereal, inspecting it like he’s making himself at home. “What does it look like? I’m hungry.”

He was getting under your skin. “You can’t just—just be here. You need to leave!”

Finally, he turns to face you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Relax, princess. Your parents are out of town, aren’t they? Won’t be back for…what, a week?”

Your breath hitches. “H-how do you know that?”

He shrugged, plucking a banana from the fruit bowl and peeling it. “I know a lot of things.”

“Get out,” you say, forcing even more steel into your voice, but it still shakes.

He takes a slow bite of the banana, leaning casually against the counter. Then, with an easy shrug, he says it—like a dare, like he already knows you won’t.

“Make me.”

You grit your teeth in anger and try to grab the stack of mail he had started flipping through, but he easily holds it out of your reach.

“Oh, no, no,” he says, pulling the envelopes further away. “Say please first.”

Your brows furrow. “What?”

His smirk widens as he leans closer, voice dipping into something low and teasing. “Say… please. Come on, you can do it. Please.”

She hesitated, blinking at him in disbelief.

“Come on,” he coaxed, holding the mail just out of reach. “It’s not that hard. ‘Please, mister terrifying murderer who broke into my house, stop opening my mail.’”

Your face burns as you mutter, “Please.”

“What was that?” He cups a hand to his ear, leaning in mockingly.

“Please!” you say louder, your voice shaking with anger and humiliation.

“Ah, there you go!” He hands you the mail, but not before brushing his fingers against yours just long enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Now,” he says, tone shifting from playful to something sharper, more curious. “What is it about you?”

Your pulse quickens. “What are you talking about?”

He sets the banana down and turns toward you fully, “You. What’s so special about you?”

You step back, bumping into the counter as he stalks closer.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, tilting his head like he’s studying you. “I don’t let people go. Ever. So what is it? What, you got some deep, tragic childhood trauma? Mommy didn’t love you? Daddy wasn’t around? There’s got to be something, right?”

You swallow hard, shaking your head. “What? N-no. Th-there’s nothing—”

“Or,” he interrupts, leaning in so your faces are inches apart, “is it just because I’m a guy? Because, yeah, I’ve got my moments, but this?” He gestures between you. “This isn’t me. I don’t do this. I don’t let people go. So what the hell is it? Hmm?”

His eyes flick down to your lips briefly before he steps back with a frustrated laugh, running a hand through his hair. “God, you’re such a headache.”

And just like that, he turns back to the cabinets, rifling through them like nothing had happened.

tags aka my lovelies: @lalavenderangel @violetidk @nicholaschavezslut69 @blackynsupremacy @motherismotheringggg @hoffmansgirl @greengoblinswifey @emluvsuxo @iamsebastiansstan @thekhloediary @blog-o-meter

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chosolar · 20 hours ago

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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ wanna be yours!

gojo satoru x shy!femreader

THIS IS A REPOST

part 1

mdni please! there are sexual themes.

flirty!satoru did his best to respect your wishes but he was losing his mind. with each day passing where he didn't hear from you, his overthinking got worse. what happened for you to distance yourself from him seemingly out of nowhere?

flirty!satoru refused to go out of his penthouse unless it was severely urgent. he would get his groceries delivered or ask either suguru or shoko to buy it for it. The two tried their best to get him to at least walk around his complex but satoru would drag his body weight, making it difficult to even get him up. it got to a point where shoko threatened him that she was going to tell you how disgusting he was being. (as mean as it was, it sure got the job done)

flirty!satoru had his phone basically glued to his hand. constantly refreshing his feeds and checking everyone's stories to see if you would be there in the background. it was his only solace, seeing you happy even if he did feel like he was there was a boulder on his chest that made him feel suffocated.

flirty!satoru who sat up instantly the millisecond he got your text. it didn't matter that it was 2 in the morning, he was responding to your message ASAP.

hey satoru I hope you're doing well. is it alright if I call you? 2:33 am

he replied with a quick "yes of course", and he didn't care if he sounded desperate, because well, he was. he's been waiting for you to reach out ever since he got that text a few weeks ago.

his heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest, each heartbeat thumps harder than the previous. he watches as his phone lights up with your contact photo and name, the ringtone blasting. within the second ring, he picks up, greeting you with a shaky voice.

"hi satoru," he hears your nervousness through the phone. your voice is nasally and he can make out the soft sniffling, but he stays quiet. "how have you been?"

satoru contemplated on what to say. should he be honest, or should he lie and say that he was doing well without you?

"better now that I can hear your voice." his heart rate sped up as he hears you soft laugh, "how about you?"

you sigh before you answer. "I'm in a dilemma to be honest."

"wanna tell me what it's about?" he urges, hoping he'll get the answer he's been looking for. satoru puts you on speaker and lets his phone drop onto his bed, his full undivided attention on you.

"well it's about you... kinda," you drift off before you continue. "the night before I sent you that text, I was working and someone asked me out."

satoru pleads in silence that this was not going where he thinks it's going. with this anxious feeling creeping up on him again, he doesn't say anything.

his uncommon reticence worries you but you carried on with the story.

"I didn't go out with him if that's what you're thinking of. I like you too much to do that. it just had me thinking because we spent months being more than friends, but am I the only one who feels that way?"

"no of course not!" satoru retorts, "I promise that it's not one-sided. why do you feel this way?"

it took you a few minutes to gather your thoughts, but satoru doesn't rush you. he hears a shaky exhale before you speak up, "I've noticed that you're flirty with everyone. you're not shy with touching other people and it just makes me feel like maybe it's wrong of me to feel special when I'm not the only one you've done these things with..."

flirty!satoru doesn't invalidate your feelings. he acknowledges each and every reason why you feel the way you do. satoru takes his time explaining that yes, he may be flirty and he's quite touchy, but it's different when it comes to you. the things he's done with you, he's never done with anyone else despite him having exes. although it's almost been a year since he's met you, the butterflies have never gone away and that each day his feelings grow.

flirty!satoru continues listing all the reasons why he loves likes you. he assures you that he may look like a fuckboy, he's far from it. he reminisces the time he had suguru psych him up to get your number because he's never had to ask for anyone's number (humble brag from him). he exhales a sigh of relief that the story earned a giggle from you.

flirty!satoru debates on telling you, but decided on keeping his plans of asking you out a secret. he wanted to prove to you that you're it for him and that there's no one else but you. satoru's big on actions speaking a lot more than words, so before he asks you out, he wants you to feel secure.

flirty!satoru posts you on his story constantly!!! whether you're out on a grocery run or a mini road trip for the long weekend, you can always count on satoru posting a soft launch story that has you in it. you don't know it, but satoru also has a secret instagram account, and the only thing he posts on it are pictures of you with the dates on it and a small paragraph of what you guys did that day. he likes to think it's modern-day scrapbooking.

flirty!satoru is obsessed with calling you nicknames, and as much as he loves saying your name - he will never not love calling you sweet nicknames like pretty girl, honey, or baby. satoru's fond of how your cheeks turn red and how you try to cover your face when he calls you any nicknames. it gives him cuteness aggression so bad, he ends up pinching your cheeks!

flirty!satoru can see how your eyes drift to look at his lips when you're talking to him face to face. you think you're so slick with it but satoru's quicker. whenever you do that little triangle trick you saw on tiktok, he leans in so he catches you by surprise. he observes with gleaming eyes as you back up to give yourself distance from him, but he just wraps his arms around you, pulling you towards him as he says, "hmm what was that baby?"

flirty!satoru has to hold himself back whenever he sees a customer come up to you and try to flirt with you. first and foremost, flirting is his thing! and second, he gets so jealous that sometimes he can't contain himself and ends up intervening. he'd make some stupid excuse to get you to leave like "hey I think someone clogged the toilet, can you check it please?" or something like that. you have to clean the stinky toilet but seeing satoru jealous is always a plus.

flirty!satoru is shocked when you made the first move and kissed him one night. it was the fact that you were sober too that surprised him even further. with you on top of him as he's sitting relaxed on the couch, his attention on the tv screen is stolen when you press your lips against his. the kiss, a seemingly innocent peck on the lips, turned into a heated make out session when satoru let go of his inhibitions. his hands roamed all over your body as his lips continue peppering kisses onto your cheeks, your jaw, and even down to your neck. satoru trails his hands from your body to hold your face gently so he can give you a final kiss before hugging you tightly.

flirty!satoru throws out all his ideas of asking you out, and opts for an intimate moment. on a cool wednesday night, he takes you back to his penthouse as per usual. he opens the door and waits to see your surprised face. he boasts that he decorated the place all by himself and even burned himself a few times with the hot glue gun to make the giant heart sign asking for you to be officially his (ngl it sounds like he's proposing but I mean who doesn't wanna marry satoru). obviously you said yes! let's just say that the heart balloons that were hanging and the flower petals scattered all over his living room were everywhere the morning after and cleaning it all up was tedious...... (but at least it was a fun night!)

flirtybf!satoru immediately changes all his profile pictures on every social media he has to pictures with you. his bio? your initials. his stories? all of you. he does not gaf he wants to show you off! the best part is satoru only follows a couple of people — you, suguru, shoko, and a few of his close relatives. satoru wants you to know that he only cares about you and only you. he never wants to and never will make you feel like you're in competition with anyone.

flirtybf!satoru is a no bs type of guy. now that your relationship was out in the open, you've gotten so many dms from other people trying to sabotage your relationship. satoru did not spend almost half a year proving his love to you for some jealous losers to try and break it, so he blocked the people who dmed you from his account and privated it.

flirtybf!satoru loves going on vacations with you, especially if it's a destination you've been telling him about. he'll almost always keep it a secret so that you don't have to worry your pretty little head about anything. costs, booking it off, transportation, he takes care of everything so the only thing you need to do is pack your bags. satoru loves how carefree you are when you're away from everyone else, and it's just the two of you in your own little world.

flirtybf!satoru is insatiable. his sex drive is so incredibly high, you wonder where his stamina comes from since he rarely did any sports. the first time you had sex, he wanted to take it slow because he wanted to savour the time with you. even though you were close when you two were just friends, having sex was a different level of intimacy. satoru wanted to show you that to him, this was not just a fuck that a one night stand will give you, no. it was making love, and he'll spend the whole night — dusk to dawn — just to show you how much he loves each and every part of you.

flirtybf!satoru started working out during his free time. he overheard you telling your friends that you love a man with a sleeper build, and well whatever his love wants, you will get. it doesn't take long until he starts seeing the fruits of his labor. he seldoms wear a shirt when he's home with just you, choosing to just wear a pair of sweatpants that he doesn't bother tying up so you can see the waistband of his calvin klein boxers. even though you two fuck often, he thinks it's so captivating that you still get bashful whenever he's being coy with you.

flirtybf!satoru loves talking about the future with you. he'll often ask you what kind of house you see yourself living in with him, and he'll make sure to get every little detail you're telling him. you've already moved into his penthouse after he begged for days for you to leave your apartment and just live with him. he takes notice of how you decorate and makes a mental note of it. satoru will make sure to say "when we have kids" or "when we're married", because he knows you're his endgame and he just can't wait for the day he's been looking forward to since he fell in love with you.

flirtybf!satoru surprises you with a trip to your dream vacation that you guys didn't get to go to before. the weather was horrendous, so the flight was cancelled but satoru booked another one closer to your birthday. he didn't tell you about it because he had a plan to make your birthday extra special. after you were done packing, he tells you that he'll meet you in the car. before satoru leaves the penthouse and locks the door, he double checks that the engagement ring is packed securely in his bag.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

hi everyone! I hope this satisfies everyone's request for a part 2 ◡̈ ngl I had to use some moments with my boyfriend because my mind was blanking out and I am prayinggggg that this one is not a disappointment to you guys! again not proofread <3

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

taglist:

@lvrndkoo @sorenflyinn @realalpacorn @ninani-nanina @msun1c0rn @ourfinalisation @rio-reid-whoreee @staarflowerr @leonesimp @okayiamkassandra @starpachinko @atashiboba @blueemochii @hawkswifie @secrtjncoblog @esperssox @smiling-16

a few of them did not show up so please let me know if you didn't get a notification ◡̈

#gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fics #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen fics #jujutsu kaisen drabbles

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darlingdaisyfarm · 3 days ago

Note

oohhh ok this is so self indulgent but do you think you could do a short fic with ford comforting his fem!s/o that's crying because she doesn't feel like she's pretty enough? thank you lots of love 🥺🩷

prettier than a supernova | Ford Pines x reader

some people give compliments. Ford Pines gives a full scientific breakdown of how breathtaking you are

a/n: this is my soft little love letter to anyone who needs a reminder that they're perfect as they are. sometimes you need someone like Ford to tell you you’re worth more than the stars themselves. angel i hope this makes you feel warm and loved. just a little something to remind you that no matter what, you are stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful (also this can be read as gender neutral too!! this photo here is bc i love it and i think it just suits ford bc of sweater)

You don’t mean to start crying, you don’t want to. You press the heel of your palm to your cheek, frustrated. But that ugly feeling has been sitting inside you all day, heavily pressing against your ribs. Stupid, you think, you shouldn’t be crying over something like this. But it happens anyway as tears starts streaming down your face before you even realise what’s happening.

It started earlier. You’d caught your reflection in the mirror and for a second you had seen yourself the way you feared everyone else did. wrong. Lacking. Not enough. You ignored it at first, shoved it down, swallowed the bitter taste of self-doubt like it was nothing. But then it came back.

You thought Ford wouldn't notice, being too busy in his studies. But in the perfect silence of the Shack, your quiet sobs sounded louder than his own breathing.

“Darling,” Ford sets his book aside without hesitation. “come here.” his voice, as always sounds so quiet and calm, but it’s the way he holds out his arms that undoes you completely. There’s no question, no hesitation, just him, offering warmth, safety, attention, care.

So you go, you let yourself sink into his lap, curling up against his chest and the moment his arms come around you, your sobs break free. You press your face into his sweater, gripping the fabric and shut your eyes tightly.

Ford just holds you. No words, no shushing, he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t tell you to stop crying, doesn’t try to fix you. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head as he lets you cry, lets you bury yourself in his warmth, lets you be small in his arms. And you cry a little harder because no one’s ever done this before, not like this. No one’s ever let you be messy and sad and vulnerable and still held you like you’re worth something.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs after a while, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. ”talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You shake your head because the words feel ridiculous and too embarrassing. But Ford just waits patiently, his hand never stopping its slow motions against your back.

After a while you whisper. “i. . . don’t feel pretty enough.”

Ford stays silent. The sentence you said doesn’t compute, the equation is missing a crucial variable. His brain thinks. You've just said something factually incorrect.

He is quiet long enough that you regret saying anything at all.

“Not pretty enough?” you wince at how ridiculous it sounds when he says it. You stay silent again. “talk to me, please, you’re too important to me to watch you do this to yourself.” last words didn’t come out the way he had planned, but it doesn't matter. The sadness in your eyes is enough to make him want to shield you from everything that ever made you doubt yourself.

“I don’t know, Ford, sometimes i just feel. . . just not enough.”

Ford takes a deep sigh and pulls back to see your face. His hands come up, six fingers framing your cheeks gently.

“But, love,” he brushes away the lingering tears on your skin. “who put that idea in your head?”

“Just. . . my brain, i guess.”

Ford frowns at that response, trying to figure out how to undo that thought that’s been rooted in you for too long.

“Listen to me, you are the most stunning, breathtaking person i have ever had the privilege of knowing.”

You sniffle, trying to look away, but he doesn’t let you, tilting your chin up until you meet his gaze.

“Not just beautiful,” he continues, “though you are, undeniably. But everything. Your mind, your heart, the way you see the world, i have never known anyone like you. And i never will. You are brilliant and strong in ways i could never hope to be.”

You avoid his gaze, looking down despite his tries to keep your eyes on him. Ford notices, of course he does, he always does and before you can fall apart all over again, he kisses you. So soft, a gentle press of his warm lips, reassuring you. “I wish you could see yourself the way i see you.” he says quietly into your lips. But you shake your head and pull away, laughing through your tears, feeling how emotions overwhelm you again.

“Ford, no—“

“No,” he interrupts and you notice how his voice gets more serious. “you need to hear this. After spending thirty years traveling through dimensions, seeing entire different galaxies and universes, watching alien creatures with more eyes than you can count, none of them, not a single one of them, come close to how breathtakingly beautiful you are.”

You make a small, broken sound and Ford just holds you closer as he continues. You’re speechless, heart hammering in your chest.

“And don’t get me started on physics,” he laughs softly, pulling you against his chest and caressing your hair. “you are more fascinating than a perfectly symmetrical snowflake viewed under a microscope. More miraculous than the way hydrogen atoms fused together for billions of years just to create you. Darling, i’ve held technology so advanced it blurred the line between magic and science. But none of it, none of it, has ever left me as breathless as you do.”

He’s so serious, absolutely devastatingly serious. You don't know if it's the exhaustion or the overwhelming love in his genuine voice, but another real sob breaks out of you before you can stop it as you hug him tighter.

“I really. . . just really wish you could see yourself the way i see you. You are the most extraordinary thing i have ever encountered and i have traveled across the multiverse.” and it's damn truth because when Ford looks at you, he sees more than just a person. He sees a universe, complex and ever-expanding, a mystery he will spend his lifetime trying to understand and yet, always be awed by.

Your chest is aching. It’s too much, he’s too much. So you do the only thing you can think of. You kiss him. It's kinda messy, still wet with your tears, but Ford doesn’t care because the second your lips touch his, he pours all his feelings into it, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your waist, pulling you closer until there is no space left between you, reminding you of just how much he cherishes you, in every universe, in every corner of space and time.

And that's all you ever needed, to be held like the most beautiful thing in his entire universe.

“If the universe is infinite, then so is my love for you. If the stars will burn for billions of years, then let me love you for all of them.”

Ford cradles you against his chest, rocking you in his arms in a slow, soothing motion to calm his beloved. And for the first time in a long time, the voice in the back of your mind, telling you you're not enough, fades away replaced with the warmth of Ford's love.

“So, no, honey. I don't want to hear you ever say you’re not pretty again. Not when you're the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen. Not when i know you are worth more than every star, every dimension, every equation in existence.” you pull him closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart as you close your eyes, smiling softly.

The first rule of observation is to watch closely, to notice every detail, to understand what no one else does. And Stanford notices everything about you.

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines #ford x reader #ford pines x you #stanford pines x you #gravity falls x you #stanford pines headcanons #stanford pines x reader

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pencil-n-pen · 17 hours ago

Note

here after reading your Spencer Reid fic. I was wondering if you could write Spencer x autistic!reader where r gets overstimulated and basically having a meltdown and Spencer like helps her ig? Idk if that makes since, but thank you!!

BUZZ

masterlist

anon you have no idea how excited i was to see this ask. i even showed my bestie. thank you sm for the ask !!

summary: police precincts are overwhelming. Spencer knows just how to help :)

cw: detailed depictions of a sensory overload, hurt/comfort

this is pretty short, sorry !!

i am autistic and will be drawing on my own autistic experiences and what helps me during meltdowns :)

۫ ꣑ৎ

The lights are buzzing.

It’s hard to ignore. The policeman/detective/whoever he is who’s filling the team in on the case smacks his lips in between sentences. This is equally hard to ignore.

The tag on your neck has moved up from a small itch to what feels like a small stab everytime you move your head.

The muscles in your neck jump and twitch in the urge to shake— to firmly overcompensate for the feeling, to establish equilibrium.

But you know where that goes. One shake becomes two, and then everyone’s looking at the FBI agent having “some sort of fit”. You squeeze your hand until your nails dig scarlet crescents into your palms and focus on the pain instead.

But it doesn’t work. The lights are still buzzing, and the guy has stopped talking but now everyone else is talking and it’s louder and all the conversations sound like the same volume, all digging sharp claws into your brain, right under your scalp.

Your entire body itches— absolutely writhes with the feeling of wrong, wrong, wrong, too much.

Your hands twitch and jerk at your sides. You’re to focused on stopping the rest of your body to stop them and it hits you all at once that you have to get out.

But you don’t know where you are in this precinct and you don’t know where to go to find quiet and not the bathrooms because what if someone flushes the toilet and did you bring your earbuds you can’t remember it’s loud and you have to get away—

A tall figure steps in front of you, effectively cutting off your field of vision save for a specific pattern of dark maroon gingham. It’s a button down, and a black tie, and a grey suit jacket.

Your skin itches marginally less now that you can’t see anything, and then large, careful hands slot in place over your ears, applying pressure just shy of hurting.

With the sound gone, or at least muffled, your lungs don’t feel quite as constricted, and your body feels less like an open, raw nerve.

You suck in a careful breath, and then another, and then another until you think you can probably pass for normal now.

You tap Spencer’s arm once, and slowly, as to not shock your rattled brain, takes his hands away from your ears.

“I have your earbuds. Do you want to go to their secondary briefing room? It’s nice. I scoped it out.”

He leans down when he says it, eyes searching your face but not making eye contact. He’s mentally cataloging your expressions to see if you’re still upset. You’re familiar with this process by now.

“Yeah,” You force the words out of your mouth like pulling teeth and he frowns a little. He always knows when you overcompensate.

He takes your right hand in his, squeezing intermittently to keep your focus on him and leads you through the precinct, expression and body language stating very clearly:

Stay away.

You stare at your shoes the entire time he leads you to the briefing room, skin prickling at the idea of how many people saw your not-well-concealed freakout.

You should’ve found this room faster, so you could’ve been alone and no one would have seen—

“Stop beating yourself up.”

You snap your head up to glare at him. “Stop profiling me.”

He’s standing next to you, still not trying to make eye contact, though your hand remains firmly in his.

He shakes his head, then reaches into his pocket and produces a pair of earbuds.

Emphasis on a pair, not your pair.

You stare at where they lie innocently in the palm of his hands. “Those aren’t mine. Mine have a chip right there from when I dropped them getting out of the car.”

“I saw a pair when I was out the other day so I got them. So you’d have a backup. They’re the exact same make and model.”

You blink, unable to tear your eyes away from them.

He bought them. For you. Because sometimes you forget your earbuds and can’t get to them in time. Because he knows you prefer earbuds bc they’re more casual and subtle than noise cancelling headphones. He bought them.

He pushes them towards you again, and you give in, because who can say no to that? It’s easy from then to plug them into your phone and start up the playlist of music you have saved for these specific situations.

He steers you to one of the tables in the back, turning the lights off as he goes, and tucks you both, side by side, into the two chairs in the furthest, quietest corner.

His hand never leaves yours.

ʚɞ

#girlblogging #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid x reader #soft spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

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wendichester · 2 days ago

Note

is it okay if I request a sam x reader where sam is secretly in love with you but reader is dating dean and music and personality wise reader is a lot more like sam?

₊˚⊹ ᰔ happier,

summary. maybe you've picked the wrong brother. sam thinks so.

pairing. unrequited lover!sam winchester x reader ft. dean winchester

wordcount. 662

notes. this honestly broke my heart a little. i am not okay ˙◠˙

The bunker’s library is dimly lit, the warm glow of a desk lamp casting shadows across Sam’s face as he flips through an old book. The faint sound of your favorite song hums from the kitchen, where Dean is cooking—or attempting to. Sam knows you must have convinced him to play it.

He doesn’t look up when you walk in, but he knows it’s you. Your scent—something faintly floral and sweet—fills the room before you even say a word. You’re always here, hanging around Dean, but it’s Sam you seem to click with when it comes to conversation, music, and shared interests. You’re like him, and it’s something he tries to bury deep down.

“Hey, Sammy,” you say, plopping down in the chair across from him with a grin.

Sam’s heart skips a beat at the nickname you’ve claimed just for him. Dean calls him “Sammy” too, but it’s different when it’s you. When it’s you, it’s softer, sweeter, like you’re letting him into a part of your world you don’t share with Dean.

“What are you working on?” you ask, tilting your head and leaning forward, your elbows on the table. Your loose flannel—Sam’s flannel, lent to you during a cold night in the Impala—is unbuttoned over a tank top, your tattoos peeking from beneath the sleeves.

“Just researching,” he says, his voice carefully neutral as he slides the book toward you. “Possible lore on the hunt.”

You nod, eyes scanning the page. You’re so focused, biting your lip like you always do when you’re concentrating. It’s one of the many little things Sam has noticed about you, the small quirks that make you who you are, that make him fall a little more every day.

“You’ve got that look,” you tease, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“What look?” he asks, his voice slightly defensive.

“The ‘I’m overthinking everything and carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders’ look,” you say with a smirk.

Sam chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Guess it’s hard to hide.”

You reach across the table, your hand brushing his briefly as you slide the book back toward him. His skin burns at the contact, and he hates himself for the way his heart aches.

Dean strolls into the room then, plates of food in hand. “Dinner’s ready,” he announces, setting a plate in front of you. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple, and Sam forces himself to look away.

“Thanks, babe,” you say, smiling up at Dean. Your eyes light up when you’re with him, and Sam can’t blame Dean for falling for you. He just wishes he’d had the chance first.

As the three of you eat, you and Sam inevitably end up in your usual rhythm—talking about books, dissecting song lyrics, and trading inside jokes Dean doesn’t quite get. Dean doesn’t seem to mind; he’s used to it by now, but Sam wonders if he notices how much easier it is for you to talk to him than to Dean.

Later that night, when the bunker is quiet and Sam is alone in his room, he leans back in his chair and closes his eyes.

You’re with Dean, and Sam knows better than to get in the way. Dean’s his brother, his blood, and he’d never betray him like that. But the way you fit so easily into Sam’s world, the way you laugh at his dry humor and share his taste in music—it feels like the universe is mocking him.

He pulls out his journal, the one no one knows about, and writes down a single thought before closing it and setting it aside:

“She would be so much happier with me.”

Sam sighs, running a hand through his hair and leaning back in his chair. Loving you from afar is torture, but it’s a pain he’ll endure if it means seeing you happy, even if it’s not with him.

For now, that will have to be enough.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x oc #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester angst #sam winchester fic #supernatural #.docx #.req

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saioratral · 1 day ago

Text

PARING: ryomen sukuna x f!reader

PROMPT: love can change SYNOPSIS: can you ever imagine a man like him.. in love?

WARNING: none NOTE: i saw sajal ali's photoshoot and i just had to write. literally got out of my writing block all because of a photo?? and who else to think of but sukuna cause hear me out.. also recommend hearing janam janam cause i was listening to that while writing

in sukuna’s eyes, you were no one special. just another girl- another offering from a village too afraid to stand up to him, hoping that you might spare them from his wrath. it was a simple transaction: you, a fragile human, given to the king of curses as an escape. so why is he getting so flustered seeing you in your wedding dress?

the blood red fabric adorned with golden embroidery was made by the finest silk to elevate your look as if you were the entire world’s beauty. he could hardly tear his eyes away from the sight of you, sitting quietly next to him. he had expected fear but not this… this feeling that pulled at something deep inside of him

your face, however, was veiled, a delicate red dupatta covering your features, hiding your eyes from his. still, even with the fabric between you, he couldn’t look away. the gold embroidery caught sukuna's attention with its soft, delicate beauty. it wasn’t just the dress, though. it was everything about you. the way you carried yourself, the way you sat with a quiet grace beside him, imagine a calm cat and a dangerous dog beside each other

you were so much more than he had ever expected, and yet, why? why did his chest tighten when he caught the smile of your lips, the way you carefully signed your name on the marriage papers, your handwriting neat and delicate, as though each letter was a piece of art?

sukuna frowned, pushing the strange flutter in his chest away

what was happening to him?

you weren’t special, not in the way he needed. you were just a pawn. someone to carry out the ritual yet, when your shaky hands passed him the pen, your trembling touch brushing against his cold fingers, something in him snapped. he could feel the warmth of your skin against his- a jolt coursing through his body. a soft laugh followed from you, sweet and melodic. it was the first time he’d heard you and it sounded like music

“are you nervous?” sukuna’s curious voice made you turn your head a little to hear him better

you whispered back to him, making his heart skip a beat. “just a little”

saying your simple vows, he slowly lifts the red cloth, his fingers hesitated as he gently brushes the fabric away from your face. the moment it settled on your head, his breath caught in his chest

there you were. how could someone like you even exist before his very own eyes? to call you his, to claim you as his own, was as if he had conquered every battle, won every war, and still stood victorious, not because of his power, but because of you

the simple act of you feeding him sweets, turned into something far more meaningful. his eyes watched the delicate henna patterns that adorned your hands, reaching all the way up to your elbows. the designs were a testament to the time, the effort, and the love poured into them. the realization hit him, pulling him under with a force he couldn’t resist. perhaps he had been wrong about you. perhaps you were more than just a village offering, more than just another woman. maybe…

maybe he had found something he never knew he needed

as the years passed, sukuna remained beside you. the king of curses was no longer a title he wore. the man who had struck fear into the hearts of villages, who had ruled with an iron fist, slowly faded. he had cast aside the darkness that once defined him. no longer did he crave the chaos of battle, the thrill of bloodshed. instead, he found peace in the quiet moments spent with you

the human aging was catching up, leaving their marks on both of you, but your beauty had only deepened with time. he noticed the silver threads that had begun to grow through your hair, the soft lines that had appeared around your eyes, and yet, to him, you were as breathtaking as the day he first laid eyes on you

“you still look at me like that,” your voice filled with warmth. “like i’m the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen”

sukuna chuckled softly

“i’ll keep looking at you like this for as long as i breathe”

@saioratral .ᐟ do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission

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starredblood · 3 days ago

Text

NOWHERE GIRL

PART SEVEN

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: things start crumbling down.

wc. 2.1k

warnings: violence, blood, lots of profanity, angsty af, small comfort | authors note: omg im so sorry yall the worst is almost over soon i promise lololololol

(nowhere girl masterlist)

Rain droplets start hitting your skin so you hope that’s reason enough for Yen-ho and his gang to leave you alone. Maybe just maybe, Yoon did something right by telling him to back off but you can never be too safe. Instead of heading to the dining hall, you make your way towards the library and weigh out starvation. Much better than a beating.

Today you’re hyper aware of your surroundings until the first spring showers have finally started. In the worst time possible. You try booking it to the other end of campus before you get drenched head to toe. Of course you forgot to pack a jacket the day your parents decided to disown you.

“Get her!” a muffled voice shouts from a distance.

Your breath hitches but your fight or flight instincts kept telling you to run so you started running till your legs were sore. However, running while trying to keep your belongings in your person was no easy feat as you kept having to adjust the strap of your portfolio tote so it wouldn’t slip off. But the adrenaline was kicking. Your heart race kept increasing, and you lost sensation in your legs. You think you can make it to the library hall and call for security.

“Gotcha!” a male voice snarls. He hooked his arms around your waist knocking the air out of your windpipe and lifted you off the ground from behind. “Yen-ho, I got her!”

You tried using all your body parts to push Yen-ho’s friend away but the more you fought back the tighter his grip on you became. Now you had trouble breathing.

“Shit, it’s a fucking rainstorm today.” the other friend complains as he and Yen-ho sprint towards you.

“Let’s her to the alleyway before anyone sees!” Yen-ho orders, using his hands to block the rain from his eyes. He gives you a malevolent smirk before his friend carry’s you over his shoulder.

“Stop it you bitch!” the guy barks as you tried to punch his back. It was no use, he’s as solid as a rock.

He pins you against the wall of the alley and grabs your left arm while the other guy grabs your right. You are forced to stare up at Yen-ho, who’s looking you up and down like a predator eyeing their prey.

“Thought you could get away huh? Yoon texted me this morning.” he begins his monologue. “She said to leave you alone. Thanks to you, now she thinks I’m some woman beating prick.”

“No, really? Because that’s exactly what you are.” you say brusquely.

He knees you right in the stomach. The pain is searing in your middle and you can feel your lips begin trembling, unable to hold back tears.

“Quiet! I’ll teach you what happens when you keep disrespecting your elders.” he barks. His teeth flare like a wolf. “Hey, pass me those.” he points at his friends to your tote and laptop scattered on the ground. Your heart drops to the pit of your bruised stomach.

“No, don’t do it! No fuck you—fuck you!” you cry out when he breaks your laptop by folding it on its wrong side. You hear the loud snapping sound it made, even through your louder cries. “Stop it, stop it please stop it!”

You feel yourself bellow out more profanities but aren’t sure if you said them out loud or if it was just in your head. The pain of watching him stomp and tear every work in your tote was so unbearable. His friends got a tighter grip on your arms when you start dropping on the ground, unable to hold yourself together anymore. You just want to curl down and sob. Everything was gone now. Everyone is gone.

Instead of watching anymore further, you drop your head to the ground letting your soaked hair conceal your face.

“No, no, no, you have of watch.” Yen-ho’s minion says and grabs a chunk of your hair to pull your head up giving you no other options but to look. You can’t fathom how quickly all of your years worth of work can just be gone in seconds.

When Yen-ho is finished he wipes the rain and sweat off his forehead and eyes. He turns to look at you and cackles at how defeated you look. It amuses them how you’re slumped on the ground shaking with tears pooling your eyes. They made you become a person who is nothing but drenched, pathetic and hopeless.

“Hey, don’t look so innocent now.” Yen-ho says. He bends down to meet you at eye level, grabbing your chin so you will look into his eyes. “I told you that I would bring justice into my own hands, didn’t I?”

“Yen-ho. Let her go.”

You hear a familiar husky voice ring past your ears but you can’t help but think that it’s just your imagination. Afraid to look deeper into Yen-ho’s dark eyes you close your eyes and silently sob some more.

“Kang Sae-byeok? No fucking way. It has been forever how you’ve been?” Yen-ho gapes, eyeing the taller girl then down at your trembling one. He roars with laughter yet again after connecting the dots. “Oh no, don’t tell me this your little girlfriend! Fuck I should’ve known you were a fucking lesbian too with the way you kept rejecting my moves on you!”

Sae-byeok doesn’t do nor say anything except maintain strict eye contact with Yen-ho. He sighs and signals for his friends to drop you. When they do, you don’t pick yourself off—Sae-byeok’s breath hitches when she sees your weakened state from the corner of her eyes.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he scowls. “You’re going to slice my neck open with that little thing?”

Sae-byeok’s grip on her pocket knife tightens.

“Just wait until my dad finds out you’re still alive. You’re in deep shit, Kang so make sure you got his money before we come and find you.”

“When your dead beat father does come I can’t wait to tell him about the time you called the cops on him just so you can go pop his clients pills.”

Yen-ho trembles in rage while his friends hold back their laughter. His face gets so red the rain hitting his skin could evaporate. “Hey, shut your mouths and get her!”

One of the minions snatches the pocket knife from Sae-byeok giving Yen-ho the opportunity to use his foot to kick her square in the chest. When he lands on the ground he uses this opportunity to jump on top of her and start getting in his furious punches in. Some Sae-byeok was able to dodge but most she had to endure. She can taste the familiar metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

“Yen-ho, stop it! Leave her alone!”

The heavy rain only was able to let Sae-byeok see a blurry figure of a poised looking stranger desperately approach Yen-ho. She holds him back by his chest and shouted in his face some more to level with him but all Yen-ho saw was red. Red in the form of Kang Sae-byeok.

The minions stand by confused when Yen-ho stops, not realizing that it was by force but it gives Sae-byeok the perfect opportunity to reach for you.

You were sprawled on the floor when you hear Sae-byeok call out your name, bringing you back to reality. You too only saw red in Sae-byeok’s face, not from fury but from blood.

“Sae-byeok, your—your face.” you were able to croak.

“No time. We have to run.” she says breathless and lifts you up by both your forearms.

You didn’t have time to register what just happened, you just know that Sae-byeok is the one holding you firmly by your wrist helping you sprint out of campus grounds. Although the rain was cooling off your agitated body, it blinded you from seeing where she was taking you.

“Sae-byeok, I can’t—can’t anymore.” you wheeze after running for who knows how long. She slows down when you do and leads you to the back of nearest building. You throw your back on the moistened bricks of the restaurant you’re hiding behind to catch your breath, but it hurts to breathe. It felt like you were inhaling fire.

It might’ve been five minutes, hours, or days of you just catching your breathl until you regained some of your composure. Eventually you did regain some of your senses back, that’s when your eyes adjusted to the sight in front of you.

Sae-byeok was also breathing heavily, short hair disheveled, looking down at the ground and kept wiping the blood dripping down from her nose with the end of her sleeves. You’re having a hard time believing that she is here in front of you, saving you from a fate that could’ve been much worse. But you didn’t have time to think about what just happened to both you when you know that she is here enduring pain caused by your adversity.

“We have to go to a pharmacy.” you breathe out. “You’re bleeding too much.”

It was like Sae-byeok reduced in size, feeling so small letting you see her in this broken down state.

“Okay.” she manages to say.

This time you were the one having to guide her. Luckily, you were familiar with this town as it’s still near campus so you’ve wandered them countless times. It was a ten minute journey to the nearest pharmacy but neither of you walked with urgency. Not even the spring day rain made either of you hurry due to exhaustion and dehydration.

You guide Sae-byeok by the small of her back underneath the awning of the pharmaceutical building. She slowly crouches down on the sidewalk. When she sits down, she starts clutching her stomach and her face begins to contort when the adrenaline goes away. Now all she can feel is sharp throbbing pain.

“I’ll be back quick just hold on.” you reassure her with a quivering voice.

Sae-byeok can only groan in pain so you bolt into the pharmacy and grab anything that could help soothe her aches. Tissues, pain killers, an ice pack, water bottles, all crammed in your arms as you make your way to the counter.

“At least those idiots didn’t take my wallet. Fuckers.” you scowl when you patted down your jean pockets and pulled out your thin wallet case.

The cashier throws you a skeptic glance while quietly scanning the items. You didn’t notice the concern in their eyes when all you kept doing was looking through the door to see if Sae-byeok was still sitting there conscious.

You sit next to her, placing the shopping bag in between your thighs and start pulling everything out. You take out a handful of tissue paper and reach over to wipe the blood dripping down Sae-byeok’s nose when she flinched back.

“It’s okay, I’ll do it.” you say reassuringly.

Sae-byeok stares at you, and you wonder what could she be thinking. The tension in her shoulders start subduing so you hesitate to try again. To your relief, she stays still while you wipe the blood that reached all the way down to her chin.

She stares over the rain hitting the pavement and lets the noise of the droplets tapping the ground soothe her. When she didn’t feel your body heat near hers she peers over at you. You’re holding out a bottle of water and pain killers to pass it over to her. Deja vu overcomes her.

Swallowing the pain killers and chugging the water, she savors the feeling of hydration until she hears the quiet sounds of someone sobbing.

When she observes you, she realizes that you must’ve gotten a lot taken away from you today. Not just your paintings and sketches, your dignity and hope could be gone with them.

You tried to conceal yourself from Sae-byeok by having your back facing her and covering your face hands with your hands. But you couldn’t control the cries that dared to escape your lips. Sae-byeok’s fingers start twitching, fighting the urge to reach over and find a way to console you.

Cheol is the only person she knows how to comfort. With anyone else it feels wrong, but she is aware that this moment is bigger than her. She knows that feeling of having everything you loved and worked hard for get taken away. The feeling is like a void swallowing you inside out and all you can do is watch as everything comes crumbling down. Sae-byeok yearned for the warmth of another and for them to tell her everything will be okay. But it never came for her.

You hear your name being called out mid sob.

You feel Sae-byeok gently turn your body to face her and without warning she just wraps her arms around you. Her wet strands of hair sticking to the side of your face when she kept pulling you closer like it was her mission was to extract all the pain you were feeling by this embrace. You accept this kind gesture by letting yourself melt into her touch.

“I’m so sorry for all the trouble I caused. I’m so deeply sorry.” you whisper sincerely, tears still streaming down your face. Sae-byeok responds by rubbing your back, but you quickly understand it’s her special way of accepting your apology.

She hopes that you will feel a little elated with the news that she might’ve found a place for you to stay. But she’ll wait as she is aware that you need to feel comforted more right now.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6 @kissedberries @bitchybananaflower @laurenkenss @saebyeokbliss

#kang sae byeok #kang sae byeok x reader #kang sae byeok squid game #kang sae byeok x fem!reader #squid game #squid game fanfic #wlw #wlw fanfic #fanfic

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elryuse · 9 hours ago

Note

Hi can I request for a wonyoung x reader fluff smut where reader confidently put the ring when wonyo was sleeping because they know she will like it, and accepted their proposal too 🥹 I hope this gets accepted thank you 🫶🏻

Unexpected Proposal

Wonyoung X Male Reader

Tags : Vanilla Sex, Fluffy Fluff, Marry, Proposal, Love, Romance, Lovey Dovey, Couple Words : 6,506 Words

I Hope You Enjoyed This Fic My Friend. Keep Those Plots up Everyone. I've Been Enjoying Reading Your Request So Far

The clinking of plates and the sizzling sound of hot oil fill the small fried chicken restaurant in the heart of Seoul. It’s a quiet afternoon, a lull between the lunch and dinner rushes, and you’re stationed at the counter, wiping it down for the third time in an hour. The uniform feels a little too tight, the visor a little too crooked, but it’s a job. It’s not glamorous, but it pays the bills.

The bell above the door jingles, signaling a new customer. You glance up, prepared to give the usual polite greeting, but the words catch in your throat.

She walks in like a scene from a movie, her long black hair flowing softly over her shoulders, her figure framed perfectly by the sunlight streaming through the windows. She’s wearing a light pink sweater and a pleated skirt, exuding a youthful elegance that somehow makes the dimly lit restaurant feel brighter. Her eyes sweep across the room, searching, and when they land on you, your heart stumbles over itself. You quickly look down, pretending to focus on the register, but it’s too late. She’s seen you.

“Excuse me,” she says, her voice soft and melodic. You look up again, this time meeting her eyes. They’re warm, with a glint of curiosity. “Do you have any recommendations?”

For a moment, you forget how to speak. The question hangs in the air until your brain kicks into gear.

“Uh, yes,” you manage, clearing your throat. “Our crispy fried chicken is really popular. You can’t go wrong with that.”

She smiles, and it’s like the world shifts slightly on its axis. “I’ll take your word for it. Can I get an order of that? And maybe a cola?”

“Coming right up.” You punch her order into the register, hands suddenly feeling too big and clumsy. She steps aside to wait, and you can’t help but steal glances at her as you prepare her drink. She pulls out her phone, scrolling through it absentmindedly, but there’s something about the way she holds herself that keeps drawing your attention. You’re not sure if it’s her confidence, her beauty, or the inexplicable sense that she’s meant to be here, in this moment, with you.

When her order is ready, you carry the tray to her table, even though it’s against protocol. “Here you go,” you say, setting it down carefully. “I hope you enjoy it.”

She looks up at you with a surprised smile. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

You nod, trying to play it cool, but inside, your heart is doing cartwheels. You retreat behind the counter, stealing glances at her as she eats. She seems to savor every bite, occasionally closing her eyes as if committing the taste to memory. You’re entranced, watching her in a way that’s probably borderline inappropriate for a customer-employee dynamic. But you can’t help it. There’s something magnetic about her.

When she finishes, she brings her tray back to the counter. “It was delicious,” she says, her smile lighting up the room again. “You were right about the crispy chicken.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” you reply, feeling a surge of pride as if you’d personally cooked it.

She hesitates for a moment, then says, “Do you work here every day?”

“Pretty much,” you admit, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “It’s not the most exciting job, but it’s steady.”

She tilts her head, studying you. “Nothing wrong with that. It’s nice to see someone who takes their work seriously.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that, so you just nod. She seems to realize she’s lingering and steps back, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. “Well, maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Maybe you will,” you say, and before you can stop yourself, you add, “I’d like that.”

Her blush deepens, and she gives you a small wave before heading out the door. The bell jingles again, and just like that, she’s gone. But the memory of her lingers, her presence filling the small restaurant long after she’s left.

Over the next few weeks, she becomes a regular. Her name, you learn, is Wonyoung. She’s a university student studying fashion design, with a dream of one day launching her own clothing line. She’s passionate, driven, and unfailingly kind, always taking the time to chat with you when she stops by. It’s not long before you start looking forward to her visits, counting down the hours until she walks through the door again.

“You know,” she says one day, tapping her finger against the counter, “you’re always so focused when you’re working. But I don’t know much about you. What do you do when you’re not here?”

The question catches you off guard. No one ever asks about your life outside of work. “Oh, uh, not much,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “I’m taking a few night classes. Trying to figure out what I want to do, you know?”

“That’s great,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “What are you studying?”

“Business,” you reply. “I’ve always thought about maybe starting my own thing someday. Like a café or a restaurant. Something small and cozy.”

Her face lights up. “That’s a wonderful idea. You should do it. I can already tell you’d make an amazing owner.”

Her words stay with you long after she leaves, planting a seed of determination in your heart. You find yourself working harder, saving more, and dreaming bigger. And every time Wonyoung comes in, it feels like she’s cheering you on, even if she doesn’t realize it.

It takes months of stolen glances, lingering conversations, and moments that feel like they’re straight out of a romantic drama before you finally work up the courage to ask her out. It’s a quiet evening, the restaurant nearly empty, and she’s sitting at her usual table, flipping through a magazine while waiting for her order.

“Wonyoung,” you say, approaching her with a mix of excitement and nerves. “Can I ask you something?”

She looks up, her eyes curious. “Of course. What is it?”

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “Would you… would you like to have dinner with me? Outside of work, I mean. Just the two of us.”

For a moment, she just stares at you, and you’re convinced you’ve made a terrible mistake. But then she smiles, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “I’d love to.”

The relief is almost overwhelming. “Really?”

She laughs, a soft, melodic sound that makes your heart flutter. “Yes, really. You’re sweet, and I’ve been hoping you’d ask me for a while now.”

The world feels like it’s spinning faster, the edges of reality blurring into a dreamlike haze. You manage to stammer out a response, promising to text her the details, and she gives you her number before leaving with a wave and a smile that you’re sure will haunt your dreams.

The night of your first date arrives faster than you expected, and you’re equal parts nervous and excited. You’ve chosen a small, cozy Italian restaurant not far from the fried chicken place—a spot you’ve heard good things about but never had the chance to visit. When you arrive, Wonyoung is already there, waiting by the entrance. She’s wearing a simple yet elegant dress, her hair styled loosely, and the sight of her takes your breath away.

“You look amazing,” you say as you approach, unable to hide the awe in your voice.

“Thank you,” she replies, her cheeks tinged with a soft pink. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

The evening goes better than you could have hoped. Over plates of pasta and glasses of sparkling water, you talk about everything and nothing, learning more about each other with every passing moment. You discover that Wonyoung has a playful sense of humor, a love for classic movies, and a soft spot for stray cats. She, in turn, learns about your dreams of owning a café, your favorite books, and the little quirks that make you who you are.

By the time the meal is over, it feels like you’ve known each other for years. Walking her home, you find yourself wishing the night would never end. When you finally reach her doorstep, she turns to you with a shy smile.

“I had a wonderful time tonight,” she says softly.

“Me too,” you reply, your heart pounding as you muster the courage to add, “I’d love to see you again.”

“I’d like that,” she says, her smile widening. And before you can overthink it, she leans in and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you echo, watching as she disappears inside, your hand absently brushing the spot where her lips touched your skin.

From that night on, your relationship blossoms. You and Wonyoung become inseparable, spending your days exploring the city, sharing your dreams, and supporting each other through life’s ups and downs. She becomes your biggest cheerleader, encouraging you to chase your dreams, and you become her rock, always there to listen and offer a shoulder to lean on.

As the months turn into years, your bond only grows stronger. You celebrate her successes in fashion school, marveling at her talent and determination. She, in turn, celebrates every milestone you achieve, no matter how small, always reminding you of how far you’ve come.

And through it all, you can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world, knowing that the girl who walked into that fried chicken restaurant years ago has become the most important person in your life.

It’s a quiet evening, and the buzz of the dinner rush has faded into a comfortable hum. You’re just finishing up your shift, untying your apron and stretching out your sore arms, when the door chimes. You look up to see Wonyoung walking in, a bright smile on her face and a neatly wrapped container in her hands.

“Hey,” she greets, her voice as warm as ever. “Perfect timing, huh? I caught you before you left.”

You smile back, feeling your heart skip a beat as always. “Yeah, just wrapped up. What brings you here?”

Instead of answering immediately, she holds up the container. “I made this for you,” she says, her cheeks dusted with the faintest blush. “Thought you might be hungry after a long day.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You cooked for me?”

“Of course,” she replies, a playful pout forming on her lips. “You work so hard; it’s the least I can do.”

The two of you settle at one of the tables, the restaurant now quiet and empty. She unwraps the container to reveal an array of delicious-looking dishes—kimchi fried rice, bulgogi, and some side dishes that look straight out of a home-cooked meal advertisement.

“Wow, Wonyoung, this looks amazing,” you say, genuinely touched. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” she says with a giggle. “Now, try it! I want to know what you think.”

You pick up a pair of chopsticks, a little nervous under her expectant gaze. Taking a bite, you’re immediately hit with a burst of flavor that makes you hum in delight. “This is incredible,” you say honestly. “Seriously, you could open your own restaurant.”

She beams at your compliment. “I’m glad you like it.”

What happens next catches you completely off guard. She picks up a piece of bulgogi with her chopsticks and brings it close to your mouth. “Here,” she says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Say ‘ahh.’”

You hesitate, your cheeks heating up, but her teasing smile melts away any reluctance. You open your mouth, and she feeds you, laughing softly as you chew.

“Why are you blushing?” she teases, leaning her chin on her hand. “It’s just food.”

“Because it’s you,” you admit quietly, avoiding her gaze.

Her laughter dies down, and she looks at you with a softness that makes your heart ache. “You’re too sweet.”

As you finish the meal together, the conversation drifts to more personal topics. Wonyoung starts opening up in a way she hasn’t before, telling you about her childhood, her aspirations, and her life outside of these quiet evenings with you.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says after a moment of hesitation, her tone turning serious.

“What is it?” you ask, setting down your chopsticks.

She fidgets with the edge of her sleeve, as though unsure how to phrase it. “You know how I said I’m studying fashion design? That’s true, but… there’s more to it. I’m also… an idol.”

Your mind blanks for a moment. “An idol?” you repeat, trying to process her words. “Like, a K-pop idol?”

She nods, watching your reaction carefully. “I’m part of a group called IVE. We’re pretty well-known, I guess.”

You blink at her, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. “Wait, you mean that IVE? The one with all the hit songs and music videos? The one everyone’s talking about?”

“That’s the one,” she says with a sheepish laugh. “I didn’t mention it before because… well, I didn’t want it to change anything between us.”

You take a moment to absorb this revelation. It’s a lot to take in, but as you look at her—this kind, talented, and humble person who’s shared so much of herself with you—you realize it doesn’t change how you feel about her.

“Wonyoung,” you say softly, reaching out to take her hand. “Thank you for telling me. And honestly? It doesn’t change anything. You’re still you—the amazing, thoughtful person who brings me homemade meals and makes me laugh. That’s all that matters to me.”

Her eyes glisten with emotion, and she squeezes your hand. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a moment, your connection feeling deeper than ever. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, Wonyoung scoots closer to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“You’re really something, you know that?” she murmurs.

You smile, your heart swelling with affection. “Takes one to know one.”

Later that evening, as you’re walking her home, she surprises you again.

“Hey,” she says, stopping in her tracks. “How would you feel about meeting my members?”

“Your members?” you echo, slightly startled.

“Yeah,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes searching yours for a reaction. “I think it’s time. They’ve been dying to know who’s been making me smile so much lately.”

You’re not sure whether to feel flattered or nervous. “Are you sure? I mean, what if they don’t like me?”

She laughs, her hand slipping into yours. “They’ll love you. Trust me.”

Before you know it, you’re standing in front of a sleek, modern dorm building. Wonyoung leads you inside, her hand still firmly holding yours, and your nerves spike as you approach the door to her unit. She punches in the code, and the door swings open to reveal a cozy living space filled with warmth and laughter.

“Guys, I’m back!” she calls out.

Within seconds, you’re greeted by a group of bright, smiling faces—her fellow IVE members. Each of them exudes a unique energy, but they all share the same curiosity as they look you over.

“So, this is him?” one of them asks with a grin. “The mystery guy?”

“Be nice,” Wonyoung warns, though there’s a playful tone in her voice. “Everyone, this is—” She pauses, glancing at you with a smile. “This is the person who makes my days brighter.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, and as her members pull you into their circle with welcoming smiles and lighthearted teasing, you realize something important: being part of Wonyoung’s world, as daunting as it might seem, feels exactly right.

And as the night unfolds—filled with laughter, stories, and the beginning of new friendships—you can’t help but feel that this is just the start of something even more beautiful.

One year had passed since you and Wonyoung officially started dating, and your relationship had flourished in ways you never thought possible. The two of you had grown even closer, and as a natural extension of your bond, you also became good friends with her group members. They were a lively and dynamic bunch, each with their unique quirks that made every hangout memorable.

Yujin, the leader of the group, was often the loudest cheerleader for your relationship. One day, as the six of you sat around a cozy café enjoying a rare day off together, she smirked and leaned forward.

“So, when are you going to marry Wonyoung?” she teased, her tone playful yet laced with genuine curiosity.

Both you and Wonyoung froze, the question hitting like a bolt of electricity. Your cheeks flushed crimson as Wonyoung let out a nervous laugh, trying to play it off. “Yujin!” she protested, swatting her playfully on the arm.

Yujin just grinned, clearly enjoying your flustered reactions. “What? It’s a valid question! You two are like, disgustingly perfect together.”

Rei, ever the foodie, giggled from her spot across the table. “I’m just saying, if you do get married, please let me help choose the menu. I have some amazing ideas. Think about it—wagyu, truffle pasta, and a dessert bar with endless options!”

Gaeul leaned back, crossing her arms with a knowing smile. “I think Rei’s more excited about the food than the actual wedding.”

“Obviously,” Rei shot back, sticking her tongue out.

The rest of the group erupted into laughter, and even Wonyoung couldn’t hold back a giggle. She glanced at you, her smile radiant, but her cheeks still tinged pink. “They’re impossible,” she said, shaking her head fondly.

“I think they just really like the idea of us being together,” you replied softly, and for a moment, your eyes met hers, and everything else seemed to fade away.

As time went on, the marriage jokes didn’t stop. If anything, they became a running gag within the group. Every time you joined them for a meal or an outing, someone—usually Yujin—would find a way to slip it into the conversation. Wonyoung, despite her initial embarrassment, started to play along, her giggles becoming a regular soundtrack to the banter.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you and Wonyoung found yourselves sitting on the rooftop of your apartment, a blanket wrapped around the two of you as you gazed at the twinkling lights of Seoul. She leaned her head on your shoulder, her hair soft against your cheek.

“Do you think they’re serious?” she asked quietly, her voice carrying a mix of amusement and thoughtfulness.

“About the marriage thing?” you replied, chuckling. “I think they’re just having fun with it. But…” You hesitated, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment. “What about you? What do you think?”

She lifted her head to look at you, her eyes searching yours. For a moment, the world felt still. Then she smiled, a smile so full of warmth and love that it made your heart ache in the best way.

“I think…” she began, her voice soft, “that I wouldn’t mind. Someday.” Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, but she held your gaze, her sincerity shining through.

Your breath caught, and you reached for her hand, lacing your fingers together. “Someday,” you echoed, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement.

And in that moment, with the city lights shimmering around you and Wonyoung by your side, you knew that someday couldn’t come soon enough.

The following months were filled with joy and quiet moments of contentment. Your relationship with Wonyoung continued to deepen, and the members of her group became like a second family to you. They were always there to tease, support, and celebrate the little milestones in your relationship, their love and enthusiasm infectious.

Yujin, true to form, kept dropping hints about marriage every chance she got. Rei started experimenting with wedding cake recipes, even going so far as to ask for your preferences in flavors. Gaeul and Liz would occasionally chime in with suggestions for venues, while Leeseo, the youngest, would giggle shyly and talk about what kind of dress Wonyoung might wear.

Wonyoung, for her part, took it all in stride. Her confidence and playfulness grew with every joke, and you could see how much she enjoyed the idea—even if she tried to play it cool. And as for you, every time the topic came up, you couldn’t help but imagine it: a future with Wonyoung, filled with love, laughter, and the unwavering support of the people who meant the most to both of you.

It wasn’t a question of if anymore. It was just a matter of when.

It has been 3 years, and Hearing those constant push up from the girls suddenly put a weight on your mind. You really wanted to marry her, right? The question kept appearing in your head, as slowly you started to think deeply of it. You indeed wants to marry her. You want to spend the rest of your life with her. Even in death and life, You'll be there, for her. With this newly found courage, You brace yourself and buy an expensive looking ring, as you wanted to give wonyoung your very best.

You wanted to suprise her, by coming to her dorm late night, and propose to her. You called Yujin, Asking if you can crash, When Yujin heard that you're proposing. She immediately cried, as she said yes. Of course you can come. Yujin also sternly asked you, To keep her safe, to always love her. You chuckled as You agree. The journey to her dorm was rough, Your heart was beating in an abnormally high rating. You've never experienced something like this. Was it the Thought of you and her maarying? Was it the fear of her rejecting your proposal. You didn't really know.

As Yujin opened the door, She immediately rushed in and hugged you. You were definitely suprised.but hearing her cry, means that she was proud of wonyoung, and proud of you. You immediately pat her back, as you thanked her and the rest of the members for being here for You and Wonyoung. Yujin giggles, as she wiped her tears slowly. She then thanked You, for always being there for Wonyoung, even through all the hardships that they've gone through. You cleared your throat, as you also realized, It was hard, to stick to her, It was never easy to date an Idol.But here you are, standing away from her bedroom door.Your heart began to beat uncontrollably,as you took a deep breath and gently knock on the door.

The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the gentle rhythm of Wonyoung’s breathing as she slept. Her dorm was familiar to you by now—the soft pink décor, the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air, the way her bed was always slightly messy, as if she’d just rolled out of it. It felt like home, and so did she. You stood there for a moment, just watching her, your heart swelling with a love so deep it almost hurt.

Her members had let you in with knowing smiles, their eyes twinkling with mischief. They’d been in on your plan for weeks, and now, as you stood there holding the small velvet box that contained the ring, your palms were clammy, your pulse racing. This was it. You’d been waiting for the perfect moment, and somehow, this one felt right—quiet, intimate, just the two of you.

You crept closer, the floorboards creaking softly under your weight. Wonyoung stirred slightly, her lips parting as she let out a soft sigh. You paused, holding your breath, but she didn’t wake. You knelt beside her bed, your fingers trembling as you opened the box. The ring caught the dim light, the diamond shimmering faintly. It was simple but elegant, just like her. You’d spent months saving for it, imagining what it would look like on her finger.

Carefully, you reached for her hand, gently lifting it from where it rested on the blanket. Her skin was warm, her fingers delicate as you slid the ring into place. It fit perfectly, as if it had been made for her. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, your heart pounding in your chest.

I did it.

But then, she stirred again, her eyelids fluttering open. Her gaze was hazy at first, confused, but then she looked down at her hand and froze. Her eyes widened, her lips parting in a soft gasp.

“Wha—” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t give her a chance to finish. You leaned in, capturing her lips with yours in a kiss that was soft but full of everything you couldn’t put into words—how much you loved her, how much you wanted this, how much she meant to you. Her hands flew to your shoulders, her fingers gripping you tightly as she kissed you back, her lips warm and yielding.

When you finally pulled away, she was staring at you, her eyes shining with tears. “Is this…?” she began, her voice trembling.

You nodded, your own eyes stinging. “Do you like it?”

She let out a laugh that was half a sob, looking down at the ring again. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. Then her eyes met yours, and she smiled, a smile so full of love and joy that it took your breath away. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long, and I just… I couldn’t wait anymore. I want this. I want you.”

She threw her arms around you, pulling you into a hug so tight it almost hurt. You buried your face in her shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of her, your heart racing. She pulled back just enough to kiss you again, this time deeper, more urgent, her hands tangling in your hair.

“You’re really doing this?” she asked between kisses, her voice barely audible.

“Yes,” you breathed, your hands sliding down her back. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

She let out a soft moan, her lips trailing down to your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. “You’re crazy,” she whispered, but her tone was full of affection.

“Crazy for you,” you replied, your voice husky.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching yours. “Are you sure?”

You cupped her face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over her cheeks. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

She smiled, leaning into your touch. “Then yes,” she said softly. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Her words sent a jolt of electricity through you, and before you could think, you were kissing her again, your lips moving against hers with a hunger that took you both by surprise. Her hands slid under your shirt, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You let out a low groan, your body responding to her touch in ways that left you breathless.

She pulled away just enough to tug your shirt over your head, her eyes dark with desire. “I want you,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“You have me,” you replied, your voice rough. “Always.”

You leaned in to kiss her again, your hands sliding down to the hem of her shirt. She lifted her arms, letting you pull it over her head, leaving her in just her bra and pajama shorts. Your breath caught at the sight of her, her skin glowing in the dim light, her curves soft and inviting. You kissed her collarbone, your lips trailing down to her chest, and she let out a soft moan, her fingers tangling in your hair.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured against her skin, your hands sliding down to her waist.

“So are you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You kissed her again, your hands moving to the clasp of her bra. She shivered as you unhooked it, letting it fall to the bed, and then your lips were on her again, exploring every inch of her. She arched into you, her breath hitching as you reached her breasts, your tongue flicking over her nipple. She let out a soft cry, her hands gripping your shoulders tightly.

“You make me feel so good,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“I want to make you feel even better,” you replied, your voice husky.

You moved down her body, your lips trailing kisses over her stomach, until you reached the waistband of her shorts. She lifted her hips, letting you slide them off, and then she was completely naked, her body trembling beneath you. You kissed her thigh, your hands sliding up her legs, and she let out a soft moan, her hips shifting restlessly.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice urgent.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You kissed her again, your hands sliding between her legs, and she let out a soft gasp as you touched her. She was already wet, her body responding to you in ways that made your head spin. You kissed her thigh again, your tongue tracing patterns on her skin, and then you moved lower, your breath warm against her.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I love you too,” she replied, her voice barely audible.

And then your lips were on her, and she let out a soft cry, her hands gripping the sheets tightly.

The room seemed to glow with the warmth of your love, the air thick with emotion. You couldn’t resist kissing her again, your lips moving against hers with a tenderness that made your heart ache. She responded eagerly, her hands roaming your body as if she couldn’t get enough of you.

“I want you,” she whispered against your lips, her voice husky with desire.

“You have me,” you replied, your hands sliding down her back to cup her hips. “Always.”

She let out a soft moan as you pulled her closer, your bodies pressing together in a way that made your head spin. You kissed her neck, your teeth grazing her skin, and she shivered beneath you. Her hands slid under your shirt, her fingers tracing the lines of your muscles, and you groaned, the sensation almost too much to bear.

“Wonyoung,” you murmured, your lips trailing lower, “you’re so beautiful.”

She arched into your touch, her breath coming in short gasps. “I need you,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “Please.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You kissed her again, your hands sliding between her legs, and she let out a soft cry as you touched her. She was already wet, her body responding to you in ways that made your head spin. You kissed her thigh again, your tongue tracing patterns on her skin, and then you moved lower, your breath warm against her.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I love you too,” she replied, her voice barely audible.

And then your lips were on her, and she let out a soft cry, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. You took your time, savoring every moment, every sound she made. She was so responsive, so sensitive, and it drove you wild. You could feel her trembling beneath you, her body arching as she got closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh god,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “I’m—I’m—”

She came undone beneath you, her body shuddering as waves of pleasure washed over her. You held her through it, your lips pressing gentle kisses against her thigh as she rode out the aftermath.

When she finally caught her breath, she looked at you with a dazed smile, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling. “You’re too good at that,” she whispered, her voice tinged with awe.

You chuckled, crawling back up to lie beside her. “I aim to please,” you teased, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She rolled onto her side, facing you, her hand resting on your chest. Her fingers traced lazy patterns across your skin, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear. There was only the two of you, the warmth of her body pressed against yours, the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” she said, her voice soft and dreamy. “Getting married. It feels like a dream.”

“It’s not a dream,” you replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “It’s real. And it’s going to be perfect.”

She smiled, her eyes closing as she snuggled closer to you. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice filled with warmth.

“I love you too,” you replied, your arms wrapping around her. “More than anything.”

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Wonyoung’s room. She stirred beside you, her hand instinctively reaching for yours, her fingers brushing against the ring you’d slipped onto her finger the night before. A small, sleepy smile tugged at her lips as she stretched, her eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than ever,” you replied, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “You?”

“Mmm, like a dream,” she said, her smile widening. She looked down at her hand, the ring catching the morning light. “I still can’t believe it’s real.”

“It’s real,” you assured her, your heart swelling with love as you watched her admire the ring. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

She giggled, a sound so light and carefree it made your chest ache. “I feel like I’m floating,” she admitted, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “I should probably get up and start the day, but I don’t want to move just yet.”

“Stay,” you said, pulling her back down into your arms. “We have all the time in the world.”

She sighed contentedly, nestling against you. “You’re right. We do.”

The two of you lay there for a while, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. Eventually, Wonyoung sat up again, stretching her arms above her head. “I should probably go get ready,” she said, though there was a hint of reluctance in her voice.

“Need any help?” you teased, watching as she playfully rolled her eyes.

“I think I can manage,” she said, standing up and walking over to her dresser. As she opened the top drawer, something caught her eye. Her smile faltered for a moment, and she reached in, pulling out a small, leather-bound notebook.

“What’s that?” you asked, sitting up with interest.

She hesitated, her fingers tracing the cover. “It’s… something I’ve been working on,” she admitted, her voice soft. “But I wasn’t sure if I was ready to show you yet.”

Curiosity piqued, you stood up and walked over to her. “Can I see?”

She bit her lip, her eyes darting from the notebook to you and back again. Finally, she nodded, handing it to you. “Just… don’t laugh, okay?”

You took the notebook from her, flipping it open. Inside, you were greeted by pages filled with sketches, color swatches, and notes written in Wonyoung’s elegant handwriting. It was a wedding scrapbook—a detailed, lovingly crafted vision of the wedding she’d been dreaming of. There were sketches of dresses, ideas for bouquets, and even little notes about what kind of music she wanted to play.

Your heart swelled as you flipped through the pages, each one more beautiful than the last. “Wonyoung… this is amazing,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “When did you start working on this?”

She blushed, looking down at her hands. “A while ago,” she admitted. “I… I wanted to be ready, just in case you ever asked. I know it’s silly—”

“It’s not silly,” you interrupted, pulling her into a tight embrace. “It’s perfect. Just like you.”

She buried her face in your chest, her arms wrapping around you. “I was so scared you’d think it was too much,” she confessed, her voice muffled. “But I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been dreaming about this for so long.”

You kissed the top of her head, your heart aching with how much you loved her. “You don’t have to be scared,” you reassured her. “I love everything about you, and this? This just shows how much you care. It’s beautiful.”

She looked up at you, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Really?”

“Really,” you said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “In fact, I think we should start planning together. This is our wedding, after all.”

A smile broke across her face, brighter than the morning sun. “I’d love that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The two of you spent the rest of the morning flipping through the scrapbook, adding your own ideas and notes to her already detailed plans. The more you talked, the more excited you both became, the weight of the future settling comfortably around you.

As the day wore on, the conversation turned to more intimate topics, the excitement of the wedding giving way to the warmth of the present moment. Wonyoung leaned into you, her head resting on your shoulder as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” she said softly, her fingers intertwined with yours. “But I also don’t want to rush this. I just want to enjoy being with you.”

You smiled, kissing the top of her head. “Me too,” you said. “We have all the time in the world.”

She looked up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of love and longing. “I love you,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

“I love you too,” you replied, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. The world around you faded away, leaving nothing but the two of you and the love that bound you together.

The kiss deepened, their bodies pressing closer as the warmth between them grew. Wonyoung’s hands found their way to his shoulders, her fingers gripping tightly as if afraid to let go. His hands roamed her back, pulling her even closer until there was no space left between them.

Breaking the kiss, Wonyoung looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. “Promise me we’ll always be like this,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

“I promise,” he replied, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “No matter what, we’ll always have this.”

She smiled, her heart swelling with love and reassurance. “Then I’m ready,” she said, her voice firm. “For everything. With you.”

He kissed her again, this time with a tenderness that spoke volumes. “Together,” he murmured against her lips. “Always.”

As they held each other, the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them wrapped in the warmth of their love and the promise of a future filled with endless possibilities.

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #beautiful #update #kpop smut #fluff #wonyoung #jang wonyoung #ive wonyoung #ive jang wonyoung #ive x reader #ive x male reader #wonyoung x reader #wonyoung x male reader

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oc3anlvsu · 2 days ago

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Min ho x reader

-Summary-

-Reader is friends with kitty and got caught up in the wrong room drama forcing her to share with min ho although the two pretend to hate each other it’s clear how much min ho adores her and it’s proven when one night he catches her using his skin care-

-Small use of y/n

-some very suggestive comments

Korean translation at the bottom

You swore when you had gotten up to use the bathroom you had been as quiet as possible after all it was nearly midnight everyone had gone to sleep at least you thought

“God this stuff is so nice!” You tried to make your voice as quiet as possible but couldn’t quite contain your excitement min ho’s skin care was three times the price of yours and 10 times better you swore it felt like your hands were touching a cloud when you moved to put on his moisturiser as you finished rubbing in the moisturiser to your skin you placed it back on the bench moving your fingertips across the multiple bottles of expensive looking skin care you couldn’t even name

“no skincare routine needs this many steps” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes there were at least 10 bottles of random skincare ointments displayed neatly across the bench along with different face rollers and an arrangement of collagen water

You moved your hand from the collagen water picking up a small white bottle of what seemed to be a kind of serum you move to drop some into your hands but stopped immediately as a voice sounded out behind you

“ you’re doing that wrong gongju”you rolled your eyes turning to face min ho with a sour look on your face it was no secret that your Korean was horrendous so you just assumed he had insulted you

“ oh and how do I do it Your highness?” your voice held a large amount of annoyance but a small amount of teasing as you leaned your back against the counter, expecting him to just insult you and walk away you were surprised when he rolled his eyes and stepped towards you gently grabbing your wrist and taking the serum out of your hand you flinched when his hand raised to your face

“Min ho what are you doing?”

“ stay still y/n” his tone held no room for arguing so as much as you wanted to push past him you didn’t and chose to listen to him staying still scared to breathe too hard

Min ho reached out and grasped the bottom of your jaw tilting it to the side placing a droplet of the serum on your left cheek and then to your right he then began to rub the serum with his thumbs in gentle circles almost like he was scared he would break you tried your best to avoid eye contact but it was impossible with how close he was to you as he finished with the serum. He looked down to your lips and muttered out something in Korean that you didn’t understand despite how long the sentence was you couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t insulting you with the way he looked at you almost hungry? Was that desire? No that couldn’t be right

“mabsosa, ne pibuga bichnaneun ge jeongmal joh-a. hajiman daleun bangsig-eulodo bichnaneun geol bol su iss-eoss-eumyeon johgess-eo.”

“Min ho?”

It was almost like he had snapped out of a trance. His hands slipped from your jaw to rest on your shoulders and continue to slip almost like he was purposely grazing your hips as he rested his hands on the counter behind you his thumb poking at your thigh

You cleared your throat looking down at your legs your tone held surprise

“ you’re not mad at me for using your skin care?”

“ you can use my skincare whenever you like God knows how cheap and full of chemicals yours is best keep your skin fresh no?”

There he was the normal sarcastic min ho you let out of breath of air you didn’t know you were holding as he stepped back from the counter his hands purposely brushing against the top of your thighs as he took a step back turning around to walk out through the door but not before turning around and speaking to you again in Korean knowing you didn’t understand

“joh-eun PJdeul geuleonde jigeum hangug-i chuwoseo eolmana gamsahanji moleusil geoyeyo” he looked down at your chest before looking back at your flushed cheeks winking at you before finally turning around going out the door and leaving.

Hm maybe you would use his skincare more often

Korean translations

-gongju-

princess

-mabsosa, ne pibuga bichnaneun ge jeongmal joh-a. hajiman daleun bangsig-eulodo bichnaneun geol bol su iss-eoss-eumyeon johgess-eo.-

-god i love how your skin is glistening, although I wish I could see it glisten in another way

joh-eun PJdeul geuleonde jigeum hangug-i chuwoseo eolmana gamsahanji moleusil geoyeyo

-nice PJ's by the way you have no idea how thankful I am that it's cold right now in Korea

#imagine #fanfic #xo kitty #minho #min ho xo kitty #min ho x reader

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inej-ruination-ghafa · 1 day ago

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sweet nothing - s.r

karma | mastermind | masterlist

Warnings: none

Summary: the one where you are living your dream life with Spencer Reid and your little girl

Wordcount: 1.7k

You rubbed at your eyes as you woke up, an arm reaching out for the other side of the bed but it was empty. You groaned as you lay on your back, eyes opening to see how empty the room was.

The walls were painted a cream colour, nothing like the cold white of your previous home. This was what you had always dreamed of, a home with wooden furniture, a cozy bedspread that you could have laid in for days and days.

You wish you could have stayed in that bed forever, his arms wrapped around your body but he wasn’t there. You put on your slippers that he had left at the foot of your bed, wrapping a dressing gown around your body as you walked into the hallway.

For a moment, your eyes lingered on the pictures on the walls of all of your friends and family.

This was the house you had moved to after quitting the BAU. Spencer had removed himself from fieldwork the moment that you had found out that you were pregnant and had become a teacher, training the next generation of profilers and agents.

You could remember that day so clearly, when he had come back from a case to see you standing over the bathroom sink, holding a pregnancy test in hand. You had turned around, mascara running down your cheeks as you held it out.

You hadn’t been married at that point but the second he found out, he proposed, promising that your family would be together forever.

Now, as you stumbled through your house, morning sunlight shining through the windows and illuminating your path, you knew that you would be together for the rest of your lives.

You could smell food being cooked so turned a corner, walking towards the kitchen. Looking to your left, you saw pictures from your time at the BAU, you and the girls sitting in the jet, Spencer and Derek with his baby boy.

sometimes you missed it, wishing that you could have those action packed days chasing down serial killers, but there was something about the mundane life that suited you as well. A place where you could write your books in peace and spend so much time with your little girl.

You stood in the doorway, leaning up against it as you looked at him. He was standing there at the kitchen, the smell of pancakes wafting through the air.

He had the little apron that you had bought for him at a market years ago. There was a carefree feeling in the air, like nothing was wrong in the world. He was humming to himself as he walked to the cupboard, pulling out three plates and setting them down on the side.

You were silent, not wanting him to see you as you just observed this serene moment, his hips swaying to the sound of the music playing from the radio in the corner.

You were about to say something, interrupt his peaceful moment, when you heard the little pitter patter of footsteps running towards him and that was when you saw your daughter running over.

She was wearing your favourite dress of hers, pink flowers embroidered into the white chiffon material. She giggled as her father lifted her up into his arms, squeezing her tightly.

spencer gave the girl a smile, she was so perfect, a little mix of the two of you. She had his mop of unruly hair, and those big puppy dog eyes. She got your smile, the toothy grin, and your nose. She had dimples though, nobody was quite sure where she got those from.

“Shh, you gotta be quiet, your mommy is asleep,” he said, tickling her in the side knowing it would make her laugh even louder.

“Stop dada,” she protested, tiny hands gripping at his lapel.

he turned on his heels, about to bring her back to the table, and he froze when he saw you standing in the doorway, the biggest smile on your face.

There was no way that you had been this lucky. So many awful things had happened to you and Spencer over the years from kidnappings to near death experiences. You had lost too many friends to count and had suffered so much.

But here, in this little kitchen and this house in a rural suburb in Virginia, there was nothing bad in the world. There were no serial killers, no sadists, no narcissists, just the three of you and the love that you shared. There was so much love, it stuck to everything. You could see it in your smiles, in the comfortable silence in the room, in the childish drawings stuck up on the fridge.

Your daughter called out your name and you rushed over, pressing a kiss against her forehead. She held her hands out for you and you took her into your arms, resting the three year old girl on your hip.

You remembered the first time you had brought her back to this house, a few days old and so, so tiny. You and Spencer had sat on the sofa, her little hand wrapped around your finger and she had kept that tight hold on you all these years later.

it was funny to think how the time had flown by, how she had taken her first steps here in the kitchen, chubby arms reached out for her father. How she had said her first words in the garden, calling for her father - something you will never forgive him for.

“Morning Spence,” you leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips, listening to the way your little girl giggled.

“I was making you breakfast,” you looked over his shoulder and saw the extent of the mess that he had created in trying to make you pancakes.

You hummed in response, “I appreciate the sentiment,”

”Sentiment?” His hand came to his chest and he feigned disgust, “I am a brilliant cook,”

you looked down at the little girl in your arms, “You think your daddy is a good cook?”

she nodded, nuzzling her head into your shoulder. You gave him a look, as if asking him how you could have ever gotten this lucky.

”I’ll sit her down, you finish the food,” you said before walking into the kitchen and settling her down into her chair.

You looked at the table. Spencer must have been up late last night because there were pieces of paper scattered on the table, a poetry book propped open. You smiled to yourself as you tidied it up, putting the book on top of a stack by the door; you had too many books to fit on the bookshelves and they were starting to pile up in various rooms.

marrying Spencer had been the best thing that could have ever happened to you. He filled your life with so much joy, no more industry disrupters or chaotic people to get you both down. With each other, you didn’t have to care if the end was coming because you had one another and the little girl that symbolised the love between you.

You brushed a hand over her hair before walking back into the kitchen, watching as your husband plated up the pancakes, pouring syrup over them.

You wrapped your arms around his body as you stood behind him. He froze at the action, his hands coming down to grab yours as he spun you round so you were looking at one another.

Even after so many years of being together, you still got a little bit flustered when he would look at you with those eyes that proved that he wanted you, that he loved you mind, body and soul.

He leaned down, hand cupping your cheek to pull you up to him as he kissed you so gently, like he did when he had first laid eyes on you. You closed your eyes as you leaned into the kiss, hand coming up to the nape of his neck to pull him even closer to you.

You pulled away and looked at him for a moment. He was different from the nerdy boy that you had met all those years ago, hair swooped over his face as he fiddled with a pen. Now he was a hardened man, prison had changed him a bit but he was still your lover, still the same soft and supple man.

Marriage had changed him too, making him laugh more. There were more lines on his face now, a few more grey hairs in that unruly hair of his. Your daughter had changed him, added smile lines to his cheeks and made the sparkle in his eyes come back after years of being not present.

“I love you Spencer Reid,” you muttered before kissing him softly again.

He hummed in response, “I love you more Mrs Reid,”

you pulled away from his grip and grabbed onto the plates by his side, grabbing yours and your daughters before walking back to the table.

He watched as you walked away for a moment. This was so like Spencer, to take a moment to appreciate the little things in life, like the way his wife’s hips swung as she walked, or the giggle that escaped his daughters mouth as she saw the pancakes.

For years, he was sure he was never going to have any of this and here he was. He grabbed his pancakes and set them down on his seat, looking at you with pure love in his eyes.

He was ready to spend the rest of his life with you, siting at tables and laughing over poetry and pancakes, whispering sweet nothings as the world faded away around the two of you.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer criminal minds #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #cm #matthew grey gubler #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfic

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