#like I know it’s a good thing and I should be glad but I’m not glad

[rmview]

accidentally sending a nude, SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — what happens when the stray kids boys accidentally send you an inappropriate picture!

contents — crack, flirting, suggestive.

bang ⁺ chan

bang chan was known for being responsible and composed, but even the most reliable people had their moments. he had been working late, distractedly multitasking between responding to texts from the members, fans, and — most nerve-wracking of all — you.

you two had been flirting back and forth for weeks, and tonight was no different. your witty banter put him in a good mood, and before he knew it, he was sending a selfie from the gym, shirt drenched in sweat.

but in his rush, he didn’t notice that the picture he sent wasn’t the one he intended. instead of the gym selfie, it was an older picture—one of him just out of the shower, shirtless, with a towel slung dangerously low on his hips.

seconds later, he realized his mistake.

his heart stopped.

“oh my god,” he muttered, staring at his phone in horror as the “read” indicator popped up. his mind raced. should he delete the message? send a follow-up explanation? throw his phone into the nearest body of water?

before he could do anything, your reply came through.

...well, that’s not what i expected, but i’m not complaining.

his face turned a deep shade of red as he ran a hand through his hair, groaning in embarrassment.

“i am so sorry,” he quickly typed, his thumbs trembling as he sent the message. “that was not meant for you. i was trying to send a gym selfie. please ignore that. oh my god, i’m mortified.”

you replied almost immediately.

relax, chan. it’s not like i haven’t imagined you looking like that anyway. 😉

his jaw dropped. was this flirting? were you actually flirting back after he’d just humiliated himself?

“wait… really?” he replied, cautious yet intrigued.

really. but next time, make sure you send the right picture.

chan exhaled a laugh, shaking his head as he smiled at the screen. “noted,” he typed back, still mortified but secretly thrilled. maybe his mistake wasn’t such a disaster after all.

felix ⁺

felix was a bit of a perfectionist, especially when it came to interactions with you. he’d spent weeks carefully navigating the line between friendly and flirty, hoping to gauge your interest without coming on too strong.

so when he accidentally sent that picture, he nearly dropped his phone in panic.

he’d just finished a workout and taken a picture to check his progress — a mirror selfie of him shirtless, muscles taut, and a playful smirk on his face. he’d meant to send it to chan, but somehow, it ended up in your chat.

“no, no, no, no!” felix exclaimed, his freckles standing out against the sudden flush of his cheeks.

he stared at the screen in horror, the little “delivered” icon taunting him.

your reply came faster than he expected.

wow… nice progress, felix. 👀

he froze. were you teasing him? he wasn’t sure if he should laugh, apologize, or crawl under a rock. finally, he decided to address it head-on.

“i am so sorry!” he typed furiously. “that was not meant for you. please ignore it. i’m mortified.”

you replied with a laughing emoji.

it’s fine. honestly, i didn’t know you were this fit. guess i’ve been missing out.

felix’s heart skipped a beat. was that… interest?

“well… thanks, i guess?” he replied, still unsure how to handle the situation. “but seriously, i didn’t mean to send that. i’m usually more careful.”

well, i’m glad you weren’t this time.

felix smiled at your cheeky response despite himself. maybe his mistake wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

lee ⁺ know

lee know had always been careful about boundaries. he enjoyed teasing you and keeping things light, but he never pushed too far. that’s why, when he realized he’d sent the wrong picture, he felt a wave of panic unlike anything he’d experienced before.

the picture wasn’t obscene, but it was suggestive — a shirtless shot of him lounging in bed, his sweatpants hanging low, with a hint of his toned stomach on full display. he’d taken it to mess around with hyunjin but somehow sent it to you instead.

his phone buzzed immediately.

...well, this is a surprise.

lee know stared at your message, his ears turning red as he groaned, tossing his phone onto the couch. “i’m such an idiot,” he muttered, burying his face in his hands.

after a minute of debating whether to respond, he finally picked up his phone.

“that was not for you,” he typed, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. “sorry about that. just… forget you saw it.”

your reply came swiftly.

forget it? why would i? you look good, minho. 😏

his heart skipped a beat. “are you teasing me right now?” he replied, his confidence creeping back in.

maybe... or maybe i’m just being honest.

lee know smirked at the screen, his embarrassment fading. “well, if honesty is what we’re doing, then maybe i should admit that i don’t mind you seeing it.”

“good,” you replied. “because i didn’t mind seeing it either.”

for the first time that evening, lee know relaxed, realizing that his mistake might just have opened a door he hadn’t been brave enough to walk through himself.

hyun ⁺ jin

hyunjin had always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, and his interactions with you reflected that. he adored teasing you with his flirtatious comments and playful winks, but he never imagined crossing a line — until tonight.

he was sitting in his art room, surrounded by scattered sketches, when he decided to take a break. swept up in a moment of self-appreciation, he snapped a quick mirror selfie to show off his post-dance practice glow — shirtless, slightly tousled hair, and his sweatpants riding dangerously low. he sent it off to his group chat with the caption, “behold: the main character.”

or so he thought.

when he saw your name at the top of the chat instead, his heart plummeted.

“no, no, no…” he whispered, fumbling with his phone. his fingers hovered over the “unsend” button, but it was too late — your message popped up almost instantly.

well, that’s something i wasn’t expecting tonight. 👀

hyunjin’s face turned crimson, and he buried his head in his hands. his mind raced with what to say, every option feeling inadequate. finally, he mustered a response.

“its not what it looks like,” he typed, his embarrassment palpable even through the screen. “i meant to send it to the group chat. i’m so sorry, seriously.”

your reply came faster than he anticipated.

aw, don’t be embarrassed, hyunjin. you look… good. really good.

he froze, rereading your message. was this real? were you flirting back?

“wait… are you being serious right now?” he asked hesitantly.

completely serious. but if you’re this shy over a picture, i can’t imagine how you’d react if i saw you in person like this.

hyunjin let out a breathy laugh, his embarrassment melting into nervous excitement. “you’re not making this easier, you know,” he replied.

who said i’m trying to make it easier?

he leaned back, a smirk tugging at his lips at your teasing response. “you’re trouble, you know that?”

don’t pretend you don’t love it.

hyunjin shook his head, his heart pounding. what started as a mortifying mistake was quickly turning into the most exhilarating conversation he’d ever had with you.

i.n ⁺

jeongin prided himself on being composed despite his age, but tonight, all that confidence vanished in an instant. he’d been lounging on his bed after practice, casually snapping a picture to capture the golden glow of the setting sun through his window.

the photo was innocent enough, or so he thought — a relaxed pose, shirtless, with the blanket barely covering his hips. it was meant for seungmin, who’d jokingly challenged him to “prove” he was resting properly.

but in his sleepy haze, jeongin accidentally sent it to you instead.

he realized his mistake almost immediately when your name popped up with a notification. his stomach dropped, and panic set in.

your message arrived seconds later:

uh… is this the kind of ‘resting’ you meant to show me? 😳

jeongin groaned, burying his face in his pillow. “oh my god, i’m an idiot,” he muttered. he typed back as quickly as his trembling hands allowed.

“i am so sorry. that was not meant for you. please, just delete it and pretend this never happened.”

you replied almost immediately, and his heart raced as he opened your message.

delete it? why would i do that when it’s such a nice view?

his mouth fell open, a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief coursing through him. he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or crawl under his blanket and never come out.

“are you seriously teasing me right now?” he finally typed, his cheeks burning.

maybe... but can you blame me? you’re not exactly making it easy to ignore.

jeongin let out a nervous chuckle, shaking his head. “you’re impossible.”

i know.

jeongin sighed, a reluctant smile spreading across his face. while the initial shock of his mistake lingered, he couldn’t deny that your reaction made it worth the embarrassment.

han ⁺

han had always been impulsive, and that trait extended to his texting habits. he’d just finished a late-night studio session and decided to take a mirror selfie to show off his new haircut. the picture wasn’t inappropriate, but it was suggestive — he was shirtless, his hair slightly damp from a shower, with a cheeky grin on his face.

he meant to send it to chan, but in his half-asleep state, he sent it to you instead.

it wasn’t until your message came through that he realized his mistake.

right in front of my salad? 🤨

han’s eyes widened, and he sat up so fast he nearly knocked over his coffee mug. “oh no,” he muttered, his hands shaking as he typed back.

“omg, i’m so sorry! that was not meant for you! i was trying to send it to chan. please just forget you saw it.”

your reply came a moment later:

why? it was a nice picture. you should send me more.

han’s jaw dropped, his mind racing. was this really happening? were you actually flirting with him?

“wait, are you serious right now?” he replied cautiously.

very serious. you look good, han. don’t be so shy about it.

his face turned red, but a smile crept onto his lips. “i’m not shy!” he typed back defensively.

sure, you’re not...

han let out a laugh, shaking his head. “you’re dangerous, you know that?”

says the guy with his tiddies out for the world to see. wait, i wonder how much i can sell this for on ebay...

he flushed and sighed, leaning back in his chair. what started as a mortifying mistake was quickly becoming the most crack-filled interaction he’d ever had with you. maybe his impulsiveness wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

seung ⁺ min

seungmin was always known for his sharp wit and calm demeanor, rarely letting things rattle him. but tonight, that composure was nowhere to be found.

after a long day, he decided to respond to a group chat message with a selfie he’d taken earlier — a casual, post-workout shot that showed him in a tank top, his hair slightly messy, and his usual confident smirk. the picture wasn’t provocative, but it was undeniably attractive.

except he didn’t send it to the group chat. he sent it to you.

seungmin froze as he realized what he had done. his usual sharp mind went blank, replaced by a surge of panic. before he could even think of a way to delete it, your reply came through.

well, i wasn’t expecting this, but i’m not complaining. 😏

he stared at your message, his ears turning red as he tried to come up with a response. this wasn’t like him at all — how could he make such a mistake?

“uh, that wasn’t meant for you,” he finally typed, his thumbs trembling slightly. “i was trying to send it to the group chat. my bad.”

your reply came almost instantly.

no need to apologize, bbg. honestly, it’s nice to see this side of you. you look good, seungmin.

his jaw clenched as he reread your words. you were complimenting him?

“i didn’t mean for you to see it,” he replied quickly. “but… thanks, i guess?”

why so shy all of a sudden? i didn’t think you’d get flustered this easily.

“i’m not flustered,” he replied, though your teasing and his red face told a different story.

sure you’re not. but for what it’s worth, you’ve definitely made my night.

seungmin let out a small, awkward laugh, his confidence slowly returning. “well, i’m glad my mistake could entertain you,” he replied.

it’s more… eye-opening, than entertaining. although my rose toy would disagree.

seungmin choked, rereading your words. maybe this wasn’t the disaster he thought it was.

chang ⁺ bin

changbin was naturally confident, his playful energy making him the life of any room. but even he wasn’t immune to moments of pure, unfiltered embarrassment — like the one he was having now.

it started innocently enough: he’d taken a mirror selfie at the gym to show off his progress, flexing his biceps with a grin that screamed, “look at me, i’m unstoppable.” it was meant for chan, who’d been teasing him about skipping arm day.

but in his haste, changbin accidentally sent the picture to you.

the moment he realized his mistake, his stomach dropped. “oh no,” he muttered, staring at the screen in horror.

your reply came faster than he could process.

wow, changbin… showing off for me now? 👀

he groaned, his confidence taking a nosedive. he quickly typed back, “that was not meant for you. i was trying to send it to chan. please ignore it!”

you didn’t ignore it. instead, you replied,

why would you send it to him? and why should i ignore it? you look amazing honestly, you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.

changbin blinked, your words catching him off guard. were you… complimenting him?

“wait… are you kidding me?” he replied cautiously.

of course not, i mean, if you’re gonna send me pictures like this, don’t blame me for appreciating them.

changbin let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “well, i wasn’t exactly trying to impress you, but… thanks, i guess?”

who said you didn’t impress me?

his heart skipped a beat at your tease, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “i guess if you’re not mad, i shouldn’t be so worried,” he typed, his confidence returning.

not mad at all. in fact, feel free to send more anytime.

changbin laughed out loud, shaking his head. “you’re trouble, you know that?”

and you love it.

“maybe i do,” he replied, surprising even himself with his boldness.

what started as an embarrassing mistake had suddenly become one of the most fun conversations he’d ever had with you.

notes: hoez in the house ( my smut fic is taking forever to finish :( )

[gyaruhana]

this may be a bit random, but could you write something for Choi Wook-Seok (the guy who plays rock, paper, scissors, minus one + helps with the search)

I’ve seen nothing about him online at all but I really liked him (maybe I’m just delusional)

It would be amazing if you could do something where the reader was an ex coworker (or just a friend) of Jun Ho and gets pulled into the little take down mission from episode 2. There she meets Wook-Seok and he gets really flustered around her or something.

thank you so much and good work on all your fics

Woo-Seok - Flustered

Synopsis: Woo-seok thinks you're really pretty and gets quite shy

A/N: Sorry this took so long to post i've been drowning in requests!!

Warnings: none

“So, just to clarify, you want me to join you to kidnap some guy who is apparently hosting death games and killing hundreds of people yearly on an unknown island?” you speak as you look at Jun-ho. When your old friend texted you asking to meet, you thought he had wanted to go out for a coffee and catch up - not try to convince you to help him find some guy running some deadly game on an island he's been trying (and failing) to find for two years now.

“I know how it sounds but I’m not making this up,” he says as he looks at you with a serious look. Jun-ho was well aware that his story sounded like the words of a mad man but there was really no way to not sound crazy talking about something like this. He was hoping that you'd just trust him and agree to this because your help would be valuable to getting this done.

You could see the look on his face that showed he clearly wasn't joking around and was dead serious about needing your help with this. However, as much as you did want to help him, you weren’t a police detective anymore. You had quit long ago and taken up a different job that didn’t put you in any danger. Something like this could be seriously dangerous and result in the harm of a lot of people. You let out a sigh as you ran a hand through your hair.

“Jun-ho. As much as I want to help, you know I don’t do that stuff anymore. I left it behind me years ago,” you say as you look at him with an apologetic look. You weren’t confident that you could just jump back into work like this. After all, if he was telling the truth, this would be a lot more than just a simple kidnapping and arrest. It’d be an all-out war - the one thing you wanted to avoid.

Jun-ho understood where you were coming from but he didn’t want to give up on you. When you used to work together in the police department, you were an excellent detective. You had a talent and it was being wasted for things that didn’t matter. This mattered. “Just keep watch then. You don’t have to come with us inside. I just need the skill I know you have to help us,” He says as he puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You stayed quiet for a few moments as you just looked at him, analyzing him to figure out whether you should listen to him. Were you really going to join him on a mission to kidnap some potentially dangerous guy? You let out a sigh before looking off to the side with slight annoyance. You took a deep breath before looking at him again. “I’ll help,” you say and Jun-ho immediately smiles, glad to have you on his side. He trusted you with his life and he knew you would prove a great help.

He pats your shoulder twice before pulling his hand away. “Good. We're meeting here tomorrow,” he says as he hands you a small piece of paper with an address. You looked down at it and nodded your head slowly. “Time is valuable so be here early,” he adds as he puts his hands into his pockets. 

“Got it. I'll be there first thing tomorrow morning,” you say as you shove the piece of paper into your pocket and look up at him. Jun-ho nods his head in approval before swiftly walking away and leaving you on your own to think. If Jun-ho hadn't been such a good ally when you worked in the force together, you would've never agreed to this wild goose chase. But, unfortunately, he had done you a favor one too many times so saying no was off the table.

You let out another sigh as you looked to the horizon and thought about what tomorrow might bring. 

“They better have guns,” 

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

The next day, you arrived at the rather strange choice of a meet up place. It looked like a run down motel that offers its rooms for ridiculously cheap to those who couldn't afford anything better. You stare at it for a few moments before heading towards the door. When you went to open it, it didn't budge, so you looked around to see if there was something you could open it with.

Your eyes quickly landed on a camera watching you from above which you decide to wave at in hopes that the door would open for you. Thankfully, it did as you heard a buzz indicating it was now opened. You quickly walked in and began to climb the stairs to the correct floor written on the paper. You could hear the faint sounds of gunshots - something that made you more relaxed because thank god they do have guns in case this goes south.

When you arrived at the correct floor, you could already see Jun-ho waiting outside a room for you. He seemed anything but relaxed and you couldn't blame him. Something like this was a whole other level of dangerous. They pretty much only had one shot at getting this right or else it'd be all over. 

“This way. The rest of the team is in here,” Jun-ho speaks as he leads you down the hallway and into a room. When you walk in, the first thing you notice is the shit ton of won lying on a bed. Your eyes widen at the sight as Jun-ho leads you past into the bathroom which was filled with a shit ton of guns. You looked around the small bathroom in slight shock at how prepared they happened to be. You weren't going to ask where they got all these guns from but you could guess they were all illegally obtained from the black market. There was also a lot of ammo for the guns too. 

Finally, Jun-ho pushes back a blue curtain revealing a hole in the wall that led to a giant space which seemed like it used to be separate rooms before the walls were removed. There were three guys  shooting at the targets all the way on the back wall while three other guys stood behind them. They clearly meant business.

Woo-seok noticed the presence of Jun-ho and immediately looked at him. He had yet to notice you standing right behind Jun-ho. “These guys were in the marine corps!” he shouts out as he looks over at Gi-hun with wide eyes. He was rather impressed with himself for managing to make a team with professionals.

“These guys were in the UDT,” he shouts again while walking forward and gesturing to two other guys. “and these guys were in the ROK Special Forces,” he finishes as he gestures to the last two guys. “Oh, and this guy is just a former cop,” he says as he points at Jun-ho. 

“Me too,” you say, making Woo-seok snap his head towards you. He immediately froze up. He recalled Jun-ho saying that he'd bring an old coworker and friend but he didn't think that he'd bring someone as pretty as you. You had him rendered speechless so quickly and suddenly, he was very aware of the people looking at him. 

“This is my co-worker. I told you about her,” Jun-ho says as he steps back a little so you could have some space to reveal yourself. “She was great at her job when we worked together so she'll be a big help,” he adds. Gi-hun seems to nod his head before looking back at the men shooting but Woo-seok couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

“..Is there something on my face?” you ask as you rub your face once-over just in case. You didn't know what he was staring at you for but it was kind of endearing in an odd way. “no! Sorry. I'm Woo-seok,” he quickly introduced himself as he tried to calm down and not grin like an idiot. God, he could feel himself start to sweat.

“Glad to be on the same team,” you say as you hold your hand out for him to shake it. He quickly grabs your hand and shakes it vigorously, taking you by surprise at the suddenness and aggressiveness. “uhm- me too,” he stutters out before quickly pulling his hand back after realizing he was holding yours for a little too long. 

You stare at him with slight confusion as you couldn't tell what brought along this behavior. He seemed awfully sweaty all of a sudden and his face seemed to flush a reddish color. He could also barely get a word out without stuttering. Usually people only acted like when they had a crush-

Wait. Did he have a crush on you?? He certainly seemed to display all the signs of a potential crush. Maybe you could just ask. Would that be too straightforward? You didn't want to embarrass him, you just genuinely wanted to know if he liked you but asking him out right might be a little much.

“uh- so you used to be in the police department?” He questioned, making an attempt at small talk with you in hopes to hide how nervous he was. He really didn't want to give a bad first impression to a girl so pretty. You nodded your head and started to talk about it but he could barely focus. He was suddenly hyper-aware of everything about him including his mannerisms. 

Was he smiling too much? Was his stance weird? Did you feel uncomfortable with him looking at you? His mind was too consumed by the thoughts of what you thought about him. He thought about making a joke but maybe you wouldn't find it funny at all and there would be an awkward silence. It was just too much for him to handle. He'd much like to disappear now just to avoid doing something embarrassing in front of you.

“..woo-seok?” You call out as you look at him weirdly. He seemed to be in his own world right now. Something was evidently stuck on his mind. You, probably. You could easily tell how he felt about you. You did use to work as a detective after all. Reading people is what you do. You sigh and shake your head at his nervous behavior before speaking up.

“If you like me, just ask me out,” you say, making his eyes widen as he snaps out of his trance. He looked at you in disbelief, not entirely sure that he actually heard you correctly. “What?” He says as he feels his heart race a million times faster than it had been previously.

“If you like me, ask me out,” you repeat seriously. You found his shyness quite cute honestly and you actually didn't think you'd be against the idea of going out with him. He really just seemed like a sweetheart.

“..really?” He said as he nervously smiled. He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck with his hand before looking around at the other's. “well.. if you don't mind..” he says as he looks at you with a hopeful look.

“You gotta ask me like a man, c’mon,” you say playfully as you push his shoulder gently with a smirk. He laughed shyly before taking a deep breath. “Okay,” he says as he composes himself before looking down at you.

“Would you maybe like to go out sometime?”

[ebp-brain]

a remus/sirius ficlet for new year's!

happy new year, everyone! I hope to write more fic this year so I'm starting today. -ebp

Remus Lupin's New Year's Resolutions, 1/1/1979

1. Get out of the flat more often. Go for a walk at least once/day.

2. Less takeaway. Soup is easy; make soup.

3. Buy the good chocolate sometimes. You can afford it if it’s just once in awhile.

4. Tell friends more things more often. Ask for more of what you need. They won’t hate you for it. You should know this by now.

Tell James it bothers you when he suggests solutions to your problems that require tremendous amounts of inherited wealth (e.g. buy house instead of renting shitty flat).

Tell Peter to stick up for himself esp. re: not liking spicy food???

Tell Sirius that

5. Stop feeling bad about your feelings.

6. THOUGHTS DO NOT MAKE YOU BAD.

Even those ones.

7. Let yourself at least express your thoughts to yourself.

Admit that you

Fuck

8. Ask for small raise at work + call in sick if needed after full moons.

9. Maybe you could write him a letter. Not to send (actually you should send it but let’s say you won’t so you actually write it). Just say that you’re sorry but you have feelings for him and you know that this is probably awkward but you’ll get over it like he got over James fifth year and it’ll be fine and normal once you’ve admitted it to him!

Tell him not to get a big head about it. Yeah, yeah, everyone wants him, sure, but they don’t know he’s a complete MESS they just know he has good HAIR and a kissable MOUTH

So what does it say about me that I do know he’s a mess and I still want him?

10. Maybe less self-analysis this year. Maybe more risk taking.

Addendum from SB 1/31/79: Remus, you’re adorable. Sorry to read your super secret New Year’s resolutions but I got bored while you were in the shower and poked around your desk and they were just lying out under a big stack of notebooks and library books and blank rolls of parchment so I couldn’t help seeing them. Glad you followed resolution number 10 or you’d have suffered the tragedy of missing out on my KISSABLE MOUTH and GOOD HAIR. Also, I’m going to buy you a whole box of the good chocolate and you can’t stop me!!

UPDATE: now with a companion ficlet

[reiding-writing]

Hi ! I’ve been a fan of your writing forever, and I’m so glad you opened up requests !! I’ve been in bed with a migraine all day, and would love some fluff with Spence taking care of reader when she’s down like I am 😭😭 Whether reader is sick or migraine-y, I don’t mind ! I love the idea of Spencer enjoying being able to take care of his loved ones, it doesn’t even have to be an established relationship fic 💕💕 Thank you so much lovely !!

BESIDE MANNER — SPENCER REID!

who better to help you through a migraine than the man who literally knows everything?

spencer reid x gn!reader | 1.3k | h/c | masterlist.

a/n — anon, i feel you, i have had the worst migraine behind my left eye literally all day and i wish i could just stick my hand in my skull and massage it away

You’re not sure when the ache started. It’s a creeping, insidious thing, burrowing behind your eyes and clawing its way through your skull. It comes on slow at first—a dull throb that you convince yourself you can ignore.

You’ve worked through worse, but by the time noon rolls around, your head is pounding so fiercely that even blinking feels like a betrayal.

Every movement, every faint whisper of sound, sends a fresh wave of pain coursing through your skull. You pull the blanket tighter around yourself, instinctively seeking darkness and silence.

The migraine has stolen your day before you’ve even begun it.

At some point—though you can’t be sure when, time feels elastic—you become aware of a knock on your door. Soft, tentative, like whoever’s on the other side knows the noise might make things worse.

You think about ignoring it, but then you hear a voice. His voice.

“Hey, it’s Spencer. Are you okay? You weren’t answering your phone,”

Even in your haze, you can tell there’s concern laced in his tone. Spencer’s always been a bit of a worrier. You know he means well, but you’re not sure if you have the energy to deal with anyone right now.

Still, you force yourself to croak out something resembling permission. The door opens, and the faint light from the hallway spills into your sanctuary, making you wince. You hear the door close again almost immediately, followed by the sound of his cautious footsteps approaching.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I was worried,”

You peek out from under the blanket, squinting against the minimal light. Spencer is standing there, a bag slung over one shoulder and a furrow of worry etched into his face. His hair is slightly mussed, and you can tell he’s been fussing with it—an unconscious habit he has when he’s nervous.

“I brought some things,” he continues, holding up the bag like an offering. “For the migraine, I mean. I, um… I wasn’t sure exactly what would help, so I got a few options,”

You don’t have the strength to respond, but you manage a faint nod. Spencer takes it as an invitation to set the bag down and start unpacking.

“There’s… let’s see… some herbal tea,” he says, pulling out a box and setting it on your bedside table. “It’s supposed to be good for headaches. And, um, this cold pack—it’s one of those reusable ones you can wrap around your head. Oh, and these blackout curtains, in case the light is making it worse—”

He’s talking so fast you can barely keep up, but there’s something endearing about the way he’s trying to cover every base.

“And,” he adds, pulling out a bottle, “magnesium supplements. They prevent the narrowing of brain blood vessels, blocking chemicals that cause the pain associated with migraines, and prevent cortical spreading depression. I checked the dosage to make sure it’s safe, but you should still—”

“Spence,” you murmur, cutting him off. Your voice is hoarse, barely audible, but it’s enough to make him stop mid-sentence.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

The corners of his mouth twitch upward in a small, relieved smile. “Of course,”

He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle you. For a moment, he just sits there, as if he’s not sure what to do next. Then he hesitates, his hand hovering near your forehead.

“Is it okay if I…?”

You nod, and his hand comes to rest gently on your forehead, his touch cool and soothing. He frowns slightly. “You’re a little warm. Have you been drinking enough water?”

You shake your head weakly. The thought of getting up, of doing anything, had felt impossible.

Spencer seems to sense this. “Okay,” he says, more to himself than to you. “I’ll get you some water,”

He’s up and out of the room before you can protest, returning a moment later with a glass. He helps you sit up just enough to take a few sips, his hand steady on your back and a duo of pills in his palm, offered out to you. The water is cool and refreshing, and you feel a tiny spark of gratitude for his persistence.

“Better?” he asks, his voice soft.

You nod again, settling back into the pillows. Spencer pulls the blanket up around your shoulders, tucking you in like you’re something fragile and precious.

For a while, he just sits with you. The room is quiet except for the occasional rustle as he adjusts his position. You can feel his eyes on you, watching, waiting for any sign that you need something.

“I was reading about migraines a few weeks ago,” he says after a while, breaking the silence. “Did you know they’ve been documented as far back as ancient Mesopotamia? They used to think they were caused by evil spirits,”

You let out a weak chuckle, which quickly turns into a grimace as the motion makes your head throb.

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean to make you laugh,”

“It’s okay,” you whisper.

He falls silent again, but his presence is steady, grounding. At some point, you must drift off, because the next thing you know, the room is even darker, and there’s a cool cloth resting on your forehead.

Spencer is still there, his long legs folded awkwardly beneath him as he sits on the floor beside your bed. He’s reading something—a book, probably, though you can’t make out the title. When he notices you stirring, he sets it aside and leans closer.

“Hey,” he says softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you mumble, though the truth is you’re not sure. The pain is still there, but it feels muted somehow, like his presence has taken the edge off.

“Good,” he says, and you can hear the relief in his voice.

He helps you drink more water, then offers you the herbal tea he’d mentioned earlier. It’s warm and comforting, the steam curling up in delicate tendrils.

“You don’t have to stay,” you tell him after a while, though part of you doesn’t want him to leave.

“I want to,” he replies simply.

And so he does.

Hours pass in a blur of sleep and wakefulness. Each time you open your eyes, Spencer is there, adjusting the cold pack, refilling your water, or just sitting quietly with his book. He doesn’t seem to mind the monotony, doesn’t seem to need anything from you except the chance to be there.

It’s a kind of care you’re not used to—a quiet, steadfast devotion that asks for nothing in return. And in your vulnerable state, it feels like the greatest gift anyone could give.

By the time the migraine starts to lift, the edges of the pain receding like a tide going out, you feel something else blossoming in its place. Gratitude, yes, but also something deeper, something you’re not quite ready to name.

“Spence,” you say softly, as the first rays of morning light begin to filter through the window.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He smiles, and for the first time, you notice how tired he looks. “Anytime,” he says, and you believe him.

[yanderecrazysie]

Yan timeskip Suga with a university prof wife reader? Reader loves her job, never has there been a night where she doesn't praise her students at the dinner table. Most of the time they talk about work together it's usually just them gushing about their students like proud parents. Unfortunately she's stuck with old rotten prunes for co-workers. Being the newest and youngest professor in the university she works at, she's surrounded by very traditional teachers who are stuck in their old ways. And they're very critical of her and her methods in work. Using technology to automatically check attendance? They think she's lazy. Leaving work early because she finishes work fast? They think she's not doing enough work. Using modern humor to keep her students engaged? She's rotting their brains! It got so bad that one day she came home upset and crying as her co-workers once again reprimanded her for how she works, as they refuse to understand and adapt her modern way of working.

Being a supportive hubby, Suga tells her to take a day or better yet a week on leave and he'll take care of it. She comes back to work after the advised break, her senpais are suddenly scared of her. Weird, but she just summed it up to her hubby talking to the dean about this and gave them a stern talking. Remaining oblivious to what he really did to get them to act that way.

I hope you enjoy, this took me a little while! I really liked this idea!

Title: Table Talks

Pairings: Sugawara Koushi x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, timeskip spoilers, threats

No matter how tiring Sugawara’s job as an elementary school teacher got, he still always managed to prioritize you. He was the perfect husband- caring, attentive, protective, and loving. Life with him couldn’t be happier.

Your favorite part of your day was the table talks the two of you had. 

As the meal winded down, he’d ask about your day and you’d ask about his, relaying news and funny moments from your days at work, using the weekend meals to talk about memes and things you’d forgotten to share the days before.

Today, the two of you each had a plate of nikujaga. You had just started at a new university, teaching several mathematics classes to the students there. You were ready to gush about your new students and how sweet they had been to you.

“I really think I made the right decision to transfer,” you said dreamily.

Sugawara’s lips curled into a soft smile and he rested his chin on his hand, “I’m glad to hear that. You’re practically glowing, you know. It’s beautiful.”

His words made you flush and you smacked his arm playfully, “Stop that! I’m trying to tell you about my day!”

He laughed, “Go on, then, tell me about your students!”

“They’re all so eager to learn! I think it’s because I use modern methods. They really like the memes I use in my powerpoints and the way I take attendance electronically!”

“Of course they do,” Sugawara chuckled, eyes sparkling, “You’ve alway had a way of making the most boring things exciting.”

“I think I’m going to like it here,” you giggled, “Now, how was your first day back?”

—----------------------------------------------------------

Your excitement faded over the next few days, but it’s not until the next Monday that you really pick at your food, avoiding eye contact.

“How is work going?” Sugawara asked you cautiously.

You made a noncommittal noise and he asked, “What about your students?”

Despite your sad mood, you smiled, “My students are doing wonderfully. They are eager to learn and most get very good grades back.”

Sugawara frowned, “What about your co-workers?”

You sighed. He had hit the nail on the head of what was bothering you. “They’re a bit… stuck in their ways. They’re all older and they don’t like my teaching style. They think using technology is lazy and humor is unprofessional. Today, one of them said I should… I should go home if I won’t take this profession seriously…”

A shadow crossed Sugawara’s face, “They said that to you?”

“Yeah,” you tried to laugh but it came out as a bitter ‘ha’. “It’s not a big deal, though… They’ll warm up to me, right?”

“You shouldn’t have to put up with that. You’re doing your job well and that’s what matters,” Sugawara said sternly.

You nodded, “Thanks, honey, you always know what to say.”

But as you continued eating, Sugawara’s mind was racing with thoughts on how to “fix” this problem.

“Why don’t you take a few days off,” he told you, “I’ll handle this.”

You tried to protest but your husband remained firm, saying, “You work so hard, you deserve a little break.” You gave in, figuring he’d be going to the dean about your co-workers’ treatment of you.

You couldn’t be farther from the truth.

—----------------------------------------

“You can’t be in here,” an elderly professor said sternly, glaring at the equally-gray-haired man that entered the teacher’s lounge.

“Oh, can’t I?” Sugawara said, turning to glare back with soulless eyes. Startled by his expression, the professor took a step back to stand with the other two in the room, spluttering helplessly. 

“Good morning,” Sugawara said courteously, “I was hoping we could have a chat about my wife’s work environment.”

“Get out,” the other male professor snapped, the one woman in the room nodding. Sugawara’s expression darkened.

“Now, which of you want your spouse to know about your affair first?” Sugawara asked coldly, “Because I have pictures of both of you hooking up, and neither of your spouses know about it.”

“You’re bluffing,” the professor said quickly, his face turning white.

Sugawara held up a few photographs and laughed when the female professor lunged for it, easily keeping it out of her reach.

“And you,” Sugawara sneered at the first professor, “Your wife would just love to know you’re spending all your shared funds on blackjack, right?”

The room was deadly silent and, with a smug smile, he continued, “I know where you live. I know your grandchildrens’ names and schools. I am a dangerous man. This is simply a warning. I will go as far as I need to go to protect my wife’s happiness. Am I understood?”

The three professors nodded.

“Good,” Sugawara said, waving goodbye as he left the shell-shocked elders behind to whisper to each other.

—-------------------------------------

You smiled at your husband from across the table as he asked, “How was your first day back at work?”

“The students all missed me,” you said, “And my co-workers apologized for how they treated me! It’s all like a happy dream!”

“I knew everything would work out,” Sugawara said with a gentle smile, reaching out to hold your hand comfortingly, “They just needed a little perspective.”

“Thank you for being my rock through all of this,” you said fondly, “I never could have imagined they would change after just a simple talk from the dean.”

Sugawara lifted your hand to his lips and laid a gentle kiss on your knuckles. You missed the way his eyes glinted as he vowed internally to eliminate any threat to your happiness.

No matter the cost.

[mothlau]

franco/alex 7

DISCLAIMER!!!!!! this is NOT an educational portrayal of hypnokink, do NOT take anything from this, the vibes here are lowkey foul and toxic and NOT what hypno is about!!!!! but anyway the vibes are rancid with this one but :3 it's fun :3 (kink meme here)

2362 words

Singapore is hot; every year it's getting worse and Alex finds it harder to go through with it. This year… This year it started out fine, great even! Until Franco decided to dive-bomb him out of nowhere.

Alex saw red, as soon as he realized what Franco was trying to do. That was until he saw the replays, watched his and Franco’s on-boards both. Alex knows that it was just hard racing, a bit desperate, drowned in a desire to prove himself, but that doesn’t make it easier to swallow. The man is still upset; they were working so well together, the taste of betrayal that much more sour in his mouth.

“Franco!” He calls out to the younger man, eyes like a hawk as the boy turns and smiles at him, as soon as he finds Alex in the crowd. He’s still in his suit, sweat clinging to his hair line. Had Alex been kinder, he may have allowed him to go change, shower and refresh after the race. But he just… he can’t. He needs to deal with this now.

His eyes are barely visible from how wide his grin is. Big and genuine, enough to almost make Alex feel bad. Except, he's on a mission and he's not about to feel bad when Franco was the one to ruin his race.

“Alex!” Franco greets him back, going in for the hug as soon as Alex is close enough. “We good, right? No hard feelings?”

Alex smiles, it’s hard not to when Franco is looking up at him, all wide eyes and flushed face. “Of course, mate. It’s just racing! I would’ve done the same!”

That seems to ease the younger, body visibly deflating in Alex’s arms. His forehead comes to rest on Alex’s shoulder, the pressure brief before he’s quickly pulling back and stepping away from him.

“I’m so glad,” he says, voice slightly hushed. “I really thought you would hate me when I was stepping out of the car.”

“No, Franco, I–” Alex sighs, closing his eyes to stop himself from rolling them. “I couldn’t hate you over that. Like I said, it was hard racing.”

Eyes still closed, he can’t see the smile that spreads across Franco’s face, but he can hear it in his voice. “I’m happy then. I will go change, then we can meet and talk. If you want!”

“Actually, Franco!” Alex rushes to stop the young man just before he can turn around and leave towards his driver room. It’s now or never. “You remember how we played last time?” Franco’s face turns red just at the mention. “We should do it again, yes? Tonight. To… strengthen our bond, yes?”

Franco is quick to agree, of course he is. He’s nodding so fast that for a moment Alex worries he will hurt himself. It pulls at his heart, but still Alex will not give in.

“Yes! I will come to your room! But first, a shower!”

The older watches him go, and then, after he gathers himself again, Alex turns to leave as well. He has things to get ready, after all, they’re in for a long night.

–

Alex has no reason to feel nervous, yet here he is: hands sweaty, foot bouncing up and down as he tries to relax on the hotel bed. It’s not working, it hasn’t worked for the past half hour, but still he tries.

He’s made the bed fluffy, just how Franco likes it; made sure to ask for more pillows and an extra blanket. He’s set the temperature higher, still for Franco to feel more comfortable, but Alex is starting to get nervous. He blames it on having cooled down, on not being as angry as he was after he DNF-ed. Perhaps he should’ve just taken Franco to his room right then, to make the boy regret his actions before the guilt could take root.

There’s a knock on his door, shy and slightly unsure.

It’s too late now.

Alex stands up, goes to open the door, lets Franco in without saying anything. The boy looks so young in his oversized hoodie, hood pulled to cover his hair, face mask covering his mouth and nose. When he pulls them off, Alex can’t help the way his breath catches in his throat.

He’s about to ruin him.

“Come, sit on the bed,” he urges Franco, making sure the door is locked before he can pay attention to the young man. Franco is already perched on top of it, hoodie discarded on the floor, now only in his shirt and shorts. He looks so fucking cozy in his little pillow nest, eyes huge and wet as he looks at Alex.

God, he trusts Alex, trusts him to take care of him and make sure nothing bad will happen to him and now Alex is about to–

No, Franco should’ve known better.

“Did you eat?”

Franco nods, not bothering to hide his exasperated eye roll. “Yes, mom, now can we start? I want to… You know…”

Alex smiles down at the boy, predatory and mean. Right, he’s so innocent when he’s in Alex’s bed, nothing like how cocky Franco tries to be in front of the media. He’s all red pouty and Alex wants to see him cry.

“How can I give you what you want when you can’t even tell me what it is you need, Franco? You know I can’t read your mind.”

“Yes, but you can…” Franco swallows hard, smoothing the blanket under him. “You can make me… go under… please…”

It’s not the sort of begging Alex usually likes, but he knows he can’t expect anything better when Franco is still wound tight.

“Relax, baby. Close your eyes for me,” Alex murmurs, taking a seat on the bed, next to Franco’s legs. There’s goosebumps running up his skin and he hasn’t even touched him yet. Alex smiles at the sight. It’s going to be so easy to get him under. “First, you are currently laying on my bed, aren’t you?”

The younger nods, not showing any signs of wanting to verbally answer Alex’s truth. That won’t do, he taught him better than that. Alex sits and waits, until Franco realises his mistake and whimpers out a barely audible, yeah.

“Mm, that’s right, baby. You are in my bed,” Alex agrees, just to make it that more obvious, to make sure that Franco won’t forget where he is. “You are in my bed and you can feel how soft the blanket is under you. You can feel it on your skin, your arms and legs.” His fingers move along Franco’s legs, watching mesmerised as even more bumps form. He’s so sensitive, even to the smallest of touches.

It drives Alex crazy.

Franco whines, brows furrowed. “It’s soft…”

“Yes, it’s soft. I asked them to bring it just for you, baby.” Franco’s lip is pulled between his teeth, tugging at it to stop himself from reaching out. “What do you say? Since I did this for you?”

“Thank you, Alex,” he moans, lip red and bruised from a few seconds of attention. Alex can’t wait to pull it between his teeth until Franco is bleeding. He can already taste it on his tongue.

“Good. You are in my bed, you can feel the softness around you and your breathing is getting laboured every time I move my hand up your leg.” Alex slides his fingers until they reach the hem of the younger’s shorts. “Right?”

Franco doesn’t answer him, but he makes a little noise, a punched out breath, that Alex decides to take as an answer. Just this once. His eyes are focused to where Franco’s chest is rising and falling with each quickened inhale.

Soon.

“Now, you are starting to go into a trance.”

This time, Franco doesn’t answer him at all. It’s just his breathing, evened out, that lets Alex know his suggestion was understood.

He starts over, having taken a calming breath himself. Alex needs it just as much.

“My voice is beginning to sound more muffled.” A whine. “My hands are pulling your shorts and boxers down.” A little mewl. “Your little pussy is starting to get wet.” A moan that makes Alex’s cock twitch in his pants.

Franco still looks deep in, even as he’s squeezing his thighs together. He always gets like this, the more Alex pushes him. It doesn’t make him stop; if anything, it spurs him on.

Alex watches as Franco’s dick tries to chub, but something is stopping it. It looks even smaller like this, almost like a– Alex smirks to himself.

“Good, baby. You are so good for me.”

Again.

“You can feel how warm the room is.” A short nod. “I am stroking my hands down your thighs.” A shiver. “And your little clit is beginning to beg for my attention.” A broken whimper.

Franco’s eyes are screwed shut, body tense, like he's bracing himself. He probably is.

"When I tell you to, you will open your eyes and look down."

His breathing is shallow and his chest is flushing red. So beautiful.

"Open your eyes."

Alex doesn't wait for him to follow his order, instead he leans down and presses his tongue against the younger's poor excuse of a cock. It twitches under his tongue, making Alex chuckle.

"Look at you," he mocks, looking up at the other. Franco's eyes are watering already, his mouth opened on a silent moan, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips. He looks desperate and ruined and all Alex did was give his tiny dick some attention. "Already a mess, huh?”

Franco nods, trying his best to look up, but his head falls back the second Alex's fingers press against the sensitive skin just under his balls.

"Alex, please," he begs, his hands clutching at the sheets, but not yet moving.

"Please what, baby? I need you to use your words."

A broken sob, his body writhing under Alex. He's trying to move his hips, to get his clit to rub against Alex's palm, but he doesn't let him. He holds Franco's hip down, his thumb digging in the sensitive flesh just enough to keep him grounded.

"Please, just–" Franco cuts himself off, whining loudly when Alex presses his nail against the side of his dick. It's a harsh movement, but the reaction he gets from the younger is enough to make him repeat it, over and over, until Franco's legs are shaking. "Fuck!"

Alex grins, licking a stripe up his dick, making sure his tongue is rough, almost like sandpaper.

"Do you think this little thing can come? I don't think it can."

Franco whines, a pitiful and broken sound. "Alex, no."

"No? Why not, baby? Is this thing not enough to satisfy you?" Alex taps his finger against the underside, laughing when the boy's hips lift from the bed.

"Alex, I'll do anything, please," he sobs, trying to close his legs, but Alex won't let him. He shoves his hands between them and parts them, keeping his knees pressed to the mattress.

"Apologize."

"What?" Franco sounds confused, like he doesn't understand the meaning behind the word.

"You heard me, baby, apologize. Apologize for fucking up my race and I'll make you come."

Alex is looking up at the younger, but he's not looking back, his eyes are still shut tightly. Good, Alex can take him by surprise.

Franco takes a shuddering breath, his lip between his teeth, his cheeks flushed. He's thinking, trying to figure out if his release is worth his apology. Alex can't blame him, not really, he's a proud man.

But, the sooner he gives in, the sooner Alex will take care of him.

"I'm sorry, mommy," he finally whispers, so softly that Alex almost doesn't hear him.

Almost.

Jesus, that’s… That’s new. He’s– Alex is– Jesus Christ, why didn’t he realize this sooner?

"Sorry for what, baby? What should– What should mommy forgive?”

Franco's breathing is picking up again, his fingers twisting the sheets. "I'm sorry for wrecking your race," he says, louder this time. He sounds wrecked and Alex hasn't even fucked him.

Yet.

"That's it, good boy. Now mommy's gonna fuck you until you're begging me to stop, okay, baby? And when you wake up, we will talk about what happens when you fuck with mommy's races."

"No, no, please," Franco sobs, shaking his head. His eyes are still closed.

"You can't come back from this, baby. Not after you ruined my race. You should've known better, but since you didn't, mommy will take care of you.”

Franco's chest is heaving, his body trembling as he tries to get away from Alex's fingers, which are now circling the younger's asshole. "Please, not there, please, Alex."

“You don’t want mommy to fuck your pussy?” Franco shakes his head, trying to push Alex away. The shove is weak, pathetic even. A poor excuse.

Alex ignores him, focusing on pressing his finger inside him, his mouth wrapped around his dick. He's not gentle, he doesn't have to be. “But your cunt is already so wet for me, see?” Franco is wet and loose, his body opening up to the intrusion. Fucking hell, there’s so much lube, he must’ve used at least half a bottle to prep himself before coming to Alex’s room.

It doesn't take long for him to start moaning again, the pain and fear mixing with the pleasure. Alex doesn't waste time, he doesn't want him to have the chance to come. Instead, he keeps him on the edge, sucking on his clit and adding a second finger.

"Mommy," Franco whines, his thighs shaking as he tries to press his knees together.

"Come, baby, mommy is right here," he says, his voice calm, almost loving. The effect is instantaneous, Franco's whole body tenses and then he's coming, his clit pulsing against Alex's tongue.

He licks him through it, waiting until Franco's breathing evens out, until he relaxes on the bed. When Alex is sure that the boy is deep in his headspace, he pushes his cock in.

The whine Franco lets out makes his horrible day worth it.

[dem-obscure-imagines]

New Year's Eve Kisses 2024

Note: It is once again that magic time of year. As is tradition around these parts, I have written five drabbles of characters from different fandoms to celebrate the New Year, specifically, the tradition where people kiss the one they love as midnight strikes. Sorry I’ve been so inactive as of late. I’ve been working on some big things in the writing sphere (as far as my original fiction is concerned anyway), but I hope you all enjoyed the two big fics I did post this year. May the new year smile on all of you, and may your reading and writing endeavors be fruitful. Love ya!

For additional context, Poe’s is a continuation of I Know the End, my big Star Wars fic from earlier this year. You don’t need to read it to enjoy this, but if you’re confused, that’s why. A little gendered language in that one (Princess and such) but the other four are gender neutral.

Fandoms: Wicked (Movie), Star Wars, DCEU (rip, she will be missed), DC CW Universe, Bridgerton (Show)

Total Word Count: 4.2k words

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, kissin’, some language

Fiyero Tigelaar

Words: 0.6k

Fiyero Tigelaar, the Winkie prince, was no stranger to a party. Unsurprisingly, he was tearing up the dance floor, dressed in his finest, just before he was meant to be sent off to his next school. When he’d arrived, he’d warned you he wouldn’t last long. He’d been right. He was going to Shiz University. But tonight, he intended to make the most of it.

As always, he had a flock of followers around him, fawning at his every move. You smirked into your glass, trying to avert your eyes. He didn’t need any more attention.

That, of course, didn’t stop him from coming over to you with that intoxicating look in his eye. The guy was charming, you had to give him that.

“And what are you doing over here?” He asked, leaning against the bar where you were perched.

“Celebrating the New Year, Your Highness.”

He grinned. “What, all alone?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You should be out there. On the floor. Dancing.” He said, motioning to the others, still lost in the rhythm of the song.

“Seems a little crowded.” You reasoned, smirking. “Don’t you have enough cronies?”

“I could use another.” He all but murmured, the tone of his voice making your heart shudder. “Besides, it’s my last night. I feel like I didn’t get to know you well enough.”

“Well, you did warn me not to get attached.”

He hummed at that, nodding. Still, he offered his hand and you hesitated for a long time before finally taking it. One final leap. It wouldn’t matter, in the long run. He was transferring schools, and you doubted you’d ever see him again. But you were kind of glad your paths had crossed.

And so you danced and danced and danced, twirling and laughing, not just with him, but with the others there, gathered on the dance floor while the Animal band played you off into the new year.

Then, at the end of the night, just before he could slip out unnoticed, you caught Fiyero leaving.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Told you not to get attached.” He said quietly, going through his satchel, that wry grin returning to that impossibly handsome face. “Came to see me off?”

“Didn’t mean to. I was making my escape, too.”

“Ah, I see. Well, it sounds like you’re missing the countdown in there.”

“That was kind of the point.”

He smirked. “Come here.”

“Why?”

“I never properly thanked you for your help in class. I’ve been told I’m quite…”

“You’re not stupid. I know you pretend to be.”

“Still, I was forgetful. Careless. You covered for me.” He smiled softly. “Thank you.”

Finally, you were right in front of him. He held something out. A token. A little, stitched seal from his home territory.

“I know it’s not much, but if you ever need anything, where I’m from, this is enough to get it for you.”

“Thank you, Fiyero. That’s really sweet.” You said softly.

“Happy New Year. Good luck with the rest of the year.” He said earnestly before that infamous smirk pulled at his lips again. “Try not to miss me too much.”

“No promises.” You said with a chuckle.

Then, something inexplicable happened. Fiyero took a step forward and pressed a long, soft kiss to your forehead. It was meaningful. Unlike the countless times he’d made out with countless members of the student body. Men and women alike. And yet, at the same time, you knew you were just a stepping stone. Passing ships.

Still, as you watched him ride off, you were glad you’d met.

Poe Dameron

Words: 0.9k

On base, no celebration was taken for granted. With all the constant fighting and battles, loss and destruction, you needed to spend some time celebrating when things went right. And for so long, so many years of your life, that had been the case.

But the war was over now. You were back on your home planet, Mariposas, ringing in the first new year as the princess of your people. The first new full year of peace in the galaxy. You dressed in one of your nicer gowns from the first war. One the Ewoks had made for you. It was hand-dyed with materials from their home moon, Endor.

You did your hair, setting a tiara on top. There was a knock on the doorframe, and suddenly, your fiancé was standing there, fiddling with the sash of some traditional Mariposan garb. It was a new thing, as he was not Mariposan. Instead, he was human. Very human. Now, an all-but-retired human pilot. A war veteran, and the soon-to-be prince of your home planet.

“Alright, give it to me straight. I look ridiculous.”

“You look handsome.” You reassured, walking closer, taking both of Poe’s hands in yours. Large and rough. Tan and calloused, both from the steering rod of his X-Wing as well as the blaster he fired for so many years. It hadn’t seen action in quite some time, thankfully. Still, it remained at his hip, much like your lightsaber remained on yours. “Princely, even.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.” You insisted, shaking your head, gazing up at him. Your eyes glimmered with love. “Since when do I lie to you, Commander Dameron?”

“Hey, I thought we said no titles in private quarters, Your Highness.” He replied, lacing his fingers through your own, pulling one hand to his lips and beginning to kiss up your exposed arm. “You really think it suits me? I don’t want those dignitaries to laugh me out of the party.”

“I think everything suits you. But if you’re really that worried about it, I’ve still got that old flight suit of yours tucked into the back of the closet.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You and that flight suit…”

Rey cleared her throat. “Ready?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Heading down in a second. You look lovely, Rey.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

“Looking sharp, Poe.” Finn agreed, following after her in his new and improved Jedi robes. Since he’d finally begun the last leg of his training, it only made sense that he looked the part. It suited him. It really, really suited him.

“Right back at ya, Finn.” Poe grinned, watching as your friends walked down the hall. He let go of your hands and offered his elbow instead. “Well, shall we?”

You looped your arm through his, following him down to the beginnings of your party. The ballroom was filled with people. Mostly, your war friends and allies. Leia was there, Lando, Wedge, Snap and the rest of Black Squadron, and of course, your sister and her husband and son. Finn, Rey, and Ben. They all chatted, mingling through the large, mostly reconstructed ballroom.

You and Poe melted into the crowd, catching up with the people you hadn’t seen in forever, congratulating them on weddings and new babies, while all of them asked about yours, your planned wedding to one Mr. Poe Dameron, your fiancé and the love of your life. Admittedly, wedding plans had taken the backseat in favor of building your home planet back up from the literal ashes, opening your doors to war refugees, victims of the First Order who now found themselves without homes. Many of them were now in the room with you, celebrating their new lives, however different they were from their old ones.

It was good. It felt right.

Finally, at the end of the night, after several glasses of Mariposan mead, Poe found his way back to you, grinning that tired, tipsy grin of his. His arms wrapped around your waist and he rested his forehead against yours.

“Heeeeey, Princess. There you are. You look stunning. You having fun?”

“Definitely. Looks like you are, too.”

He nodded, smiling. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you closer. “When’re we getting married, baby? The people wanna know.”

“Oh I know. They’ve been asking me, too.” You chuckle. “I’m sorry it’s been relegated so far back. It’s just been busy with the planet reconstruction and the new Jedi Temple and…”

“Nah, that’s okay. I knew what I was getting when I proposed to a princess. You’re a busy lady. I don’t care when we get married so long as it happens. But…I wouldn’t mind soon.”

You smiled softly, nodding. “I think soon sounds good.”

The droids let you all know the new year was approaching and people gathered to count it down.

“I love you, Princess. Thank you. For all of it. For coming into my life. For winning the war. For saving me. For letting me hang out here on this awesome planet even though I am totally overstaying my welcome.”

“Stoppppp.” You giggled, shaking your head. “Thank you for waking me up. Without you, I literally would not be standing here.”

“Alright, well, if we keep thanking each other for every little thing, we’ll be here all night and I don’t know about you, but I have some more pressing plans for the evening.”

“Like what?”

“Like this,” he replied, pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours, movements languid and loving as the party around you rang in a fresh new year, the war long gone, and the peacetimes just getting started.

Digger Harkness

Words: 0.9k

Holed up in a dingy bar while chaos ran rampant through Metropolis was not the way you thought your New Year’s Eve would go. But being a member of the Justice League…stranger things had happened.

You, alongside a group known as Taskforce X to some, the Suicide Squad to most, had just, more or less saved the world. But due to the disarray, their envoy hadn’t yet been dispatched to pick them up. Hence the bar. And you, as the one trusted person that knew of their existence aside from Rick Flag and Bruce Wayne (because Bruce knows everything), were relegated to babysitting duty while Rick filed the paperwork. Standard stuff. Breakdowns of the battle, heroic acts by the group members, that kind of thing. Things that would reduce their prison sentences, in theory, if doing so many of these impossible missions didn’t kill them first.

You perched on a barstool, chin rested against your fist as you watched the clock tick, listened to the sounds of the sirens in the distance as things calmed down. Crisis averted. Another Tuesday in Metropolis.

Boomerang scooted some rubble aside with his elbow, motioning to the stool beside yours. “Anyone sittin’ here?”

“Nope. Knock yourself out.” You said, chuckling softly, shaking your head.

“Aw, come on now, (L/N)! Why the long face? We saved the world, again.” He said, bumping his elbow against yours playfully. “It’s worth celebratin’, ain’t it?”

“Definitely. Celebrate away.” You replied, managing a tired grin.

He hesitated, eyes scanning you. “You feelin’ alright? Didn’t use too much of that energy of yours kickin’ alien ass?”

Your smile grew and you shook your head. “No. Sometimes, Boomer, I’m just tired.”

He glanced at the clock, as the New Year neared, closer and closer every minute. “You had plans, didn’t you? Tonight?”

Bingo. “Yeah, it wasn’t anything major, just…a night in with some college friends. Watching the ball drop. Sipping cheap wine.”

He hummed, nodding. He glanced around the rundown bar, windows cracked in from the near-apocalypse that had just blown over. In the corner of the room, Deadshot and Killer Croc were tweaking the wiring of a slightly damaged TV. It flickered a few times and then, against all odds, the countdown came on.

“Well, there we go. There’s one down. Let me rummage around back here.” He walked around the side of the bar and dug through the supplies before pulling out a bottle of sweet, cheap wine. One of the brands you liked. He pulled out the least damaged wine glasses he could find and poured you each a glass, sliding one across the bartop to you.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” You said, trying to fight the smile on your face. Trying to keep your wall up. You were a hero. He was a criminal. A diamond thief. Your antithesis. And yet…his charms had been chipping away at the barrier around your heart since you first met. Even moreso since you’d been fighting on the same team.

He shook his head. “You deserve a nice New Year’s. Shouldn’t have to give it up to hang out with lowlifes like us.”

You wanted to retort, but you didn’t, instead sipping your wine as the anchors on the TV talked about the disaster in Metropolis, how this New Year’s Eve had very nearly been the last. “Well thank you anyway. You’re not bad company.”

He huffed at that, looking unconvinced.

“I mean it. I…don’t know what I expected when I signed up for this, but…it wasn’t you guys. I thought you would all kinda hate me. It’s nice to be tolerated, though.”

“And I thought you were gonna be some prissy buzzkill that looked at us like we were…” He shook his head, not finishing the thought. “But you’re not.”

You were quiet for a moment. “Thank you.”

“I already told you, this is nothin’—”

“Not for the wine. For earlier. You took a pretty bad blast for me. Blocked me so I could take the final shot. You saved the world.”

“You saved the world. I just gave ya a boost, love.” He murmured into his wine glass. The word curled around his tongue gently. You’d never heard him use it before. Not directed at you.

“You saved me.” You insisted, meeting his gaze.

His eyes softened. “I did my best.”

You reached over, gently taking his hand, like you were approaching a wild animal. He flinched, but his rough fingers curled around yours, giving your hand a squeeze.

“You have a resolution?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“What is it.”

“Can’t tell ya or it won’t come true.” He replied, grinning.

“That’s birthday wishes. Not New Year’s Resolutions.”

He looked conflicted for a moment before saying. “Nah, it really won’t come true if I tell ya.”

“Why’s that?” You asked as Harley began to loudly count down from ten in the corner of the room.

“It’s so unrealistic, is all.” He explained with a shrug, eyes searching yours as the seconds melted away until finally, midnight struck and the others yelled out, celebrating the new year.

“Let me be the judge of that.” You murmured, leaning forward and capturing his lips.

He gasped into your mouth, squeezing your hand as he kissed you. His surprise evaporated into something much more solid and real. You could tell he’d been waiting for it just as long as you had. Maybe longer.

When it was over, he rested his forehead against yours. “I still have to go back to Belle Reve.”

“I know.”

“But…you’ll come visit?”

You chuckled, giving a wry grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Cisco Ramon

Words: 0.7k

A cute, sparkly New Year’s Eve fit? Check. More alcohol than any human could reasonably consume? Check. A metahuman headache from hell? Also, check. Unfortunately. After sending out a few texts, cancelling your plans, you gathered a stack of DVDs, some fuzzy pajamas, a pile of blankets, some tea, and some painkillers.

You let out a sigh, taking in your surroundings. Sure, you were cozy, but you really had been looking forward to spending time with your Star Labs coworkers. They’d welcomed you to Team Flash without so much as a hesitation, especially once they found out about your powers. They were some of the only people that understood you. Over the last few years, they had become everything to you.

Caitlyn sent you a text telling you to feel better, as did Barry. Nothing from Cisco. You expected him to send a Tiktok or something to cheer you up, but you didn’t beat yourself up over it. You were sure they were all out having fun at a karaoke club or something.

Until there was a knock on the door.

Eyebrows furrowing, you stood up and walked to answer it, pulling it open. Cisco was standing there, holding a pizza box, a scarf wrapped around his neck, snowflakes caught in his long black hair.

“Pizza Delivery for a (Y/N) (L/N)?” He asked, looking you up and down. “Is that you?”

“Thanks, Cisco.”

“Don’t mention it.” He grinned, stepping through your front door and kicking the snow off his boots before taking them off in the doorway and setting them down on your shoe shelf, as he had so many times.

“Whatcha doing? Don’t you have plans?”

“I did. And then one of my friends got a wicked headache from their awesome superpowers, so…plans changed. What are we watching?”

“Uhh, Howl’s Moving Castle right now. I was gonna switch to the countdown after, though.”

“Ooh, Howl’s! Classic. I got your usual. With that cream cheese dip you like. And, I stopped at the pharmacy on the corner and got you migraine meds.”

You smiled at that, heart swelling as he said it. “Cisco…”

“What?” He asked, taking off his coat and tossing you the bottle of pills. You caught them, reading the label on the bottle.

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

“Uhhhhh, yeah I did.” He shrugged, plopping himself down on the couch, setting the pizza on the coffee table, gently moving your mug aside. “Come on. Settle in. This castle isn’t gonna move itself.”

“Actually, it kinda does. That’s the whole point.” You chuckled, settling into the spot next to him, leg brushing his.

The two of you watched the end of the movie and your migraine meds started to kick in. You felt a lot better. Still, as you flipped the channel to the New Year’s Eve countdown, where some singer was on stage. You got up and carried the leftover pizza to the fridge, fetching a bottle of the beer Cisco liked, which you always kept stocked…just in case.

When you returned, he grinned, looking at the bottle. “See, you take care of everyone else. It’s about time someone took care of you.”

“Yeah, yeah, just drink it.” You chuckled, settling back in, sitting even closer to him this time, his arm perched on the back of the couch. One thing led to another, and somehow, your head wound up on his shoulder and his arm wound up around yours.

You sat in comfortable silence as the show played on, making comments and jokes every here and there. You laughed a lot. You always seemed to when he was around. Then, finally, they started counting down.

“Hey, uh…” Cisco started. “This is totally not the reason I came here, but…um…would it be alright with you if I…”

You smiled, lifting your head from his shoulder and turning to look at him, impossibly close. His warm brown eyes searched your features for any sign of hesitation. Of rejection. Instead, you reached up to touch his face, pulling him in for a kiss before the ball even reached the bottom.

He smiled against you, leaning into the kiss. You could tell he’d been wanting this. Waiting for it.

And when it was over, a few minutes after midnight, if you were honest, he rested his forehead against yours for a moment before pulling you back against his chest. “I’m glad I came. Best New Year’s Ever.”

“I’m glad you did, too. And if you want…I, uh…I’d like to keep kissing you. Into the new year.”

He grinned. “Fuck yeah.”

Penelope Featheringon

Words: 1.0k

The Queen was no stranger to a good party. She loved the drama, the intrigue, the young love blossoming all around her. Which was why it was no surprise to you when invitations to a grand New Year’s Eve Ball arrived in the post. All of London was buzzing with speculation of who would wear what, who would dance with whom, and most of all, if the infamous Lady Whistledown would be in attendance, hashing out all of the details in a special holiday edition of her newsletter.

You, for one, couldn’t wait to find out.

As the evening unfolded, you mingled a bit. Reconnected with old friends you hadn’t seen in months, since the majority of the Ton had retreated to their country estates for the colder months. You watched as the Bridgerton brothers controlled the room. Every eligible lady and then some had their eye on them, much, it would seem, to Benedict’s dismay.

Meanwhile, you turned your attention to Penelope, who stood at the corner of the room. Listening. Watching. She was good at that, it seemed.

“Hey, Pen. You look lovely this evening.”

Her cheeks flushed pink at the sudden attention. So used to being invisible, it was hard, being seen. “Thank you. You look g-great as well, (Y/N).”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

The silence grew in the space between you. Like weeds in the pavement.

“I can’t believe it’s the end of another one. I feel it’s gone so fast. These last months, especially.” You said.

She nodded. “Yes, since October, it’s been quite the blur. Any prospects?”

You laughed. “None. Yourself?”

“Oh, no. It does surprise me, though. That you don’t have any.”

“Haven’t been social enough, I suppose. Mother keeps trying to drag me to parties, but I’m completely content at home with a good book and a glass of wine.”

“The solitude is nice. Gives one time to think.” Penelope said quietly, looking around the room. “Although, I don’t mind a party.”

You raised an eyebrow at that. “Really?”

“Not in the slightest. I think they’re quite fun. I like people watching. Listening to the drama. Mr. Silver over there, for example, just spilled champagne all over his wife’s new silk gown. Mr. and Mrs. Rose married in a hurry, but seem to be on rocky ground, despite seemingly being a love match.”

“Lust match, is more like it.”

Penelope laughed at that, nodding in agreement, making a mental note to use that for later.

“I guess I’ve never seen it like that. I’d been so focused on my own loneliness at these things that I never realized there was so much going on.”

“Well, if you ever do find yourself alone and unhappy, we can be alone together, if you’d like.” She offered, eyes sparkling with sincerity. And perhaps something more, though you couldn’t be sure.

You smiled, nodding. “I’d like that.”

As midnight approached, you wandered out onto the terrace, snow falling from the starlit sky. It was cold out, but you didn’t mind. It had been getting rather warm inside, what with the roaring fireplaces and the room full of people. It was quiet. Not to mention gorgeous.

You took a long moment to think. Penelope Featherington. Penelope. Someone you’d been friends with for so long. Someone who, you’d thought until tonight, had never carried anything but friendship in her heart for you…now, you weren’t so sure. For the first time, you’d seen something more in those wide, gorgeous eyes of hers.

Your next breath floated off into the sky, a puff of steam in the cold winter air.

“You’ll catch your death out here.” A voice said, the door to the terrace opening. It was Penelope, dressed in her cloak, clearly getting ready to make her escape.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. It is nearing the stroke of twelve and I wish to get home and rest.” She said. “Why are you out here?”

“I was getting warm in there.” You confess, though now, you’re trembling.

“Aren’t you hoping someone might kiss you when the clock strikes twelve?” She asked softly. “There are plenty of options roaming the floor, on the search for their victims.”

“That would be the other reason I am out here, then. I have no desire to have my lips…entangled with some of those bachelors. I have never had a New Year’s Eve kiss, none of them will be my first.”

“Neither have I.” She confessed, footsteps crunching softly in the snow. “A New Year’s Eve kiss, or…any other.”

“I could kiss you.” You blurted suddenly. “If you like. If not…forget I ever—”

“You would?” She asked, almost too quickly. Silence hung between the two of you, as thick and sparkling as the snow.

You stepped closer, footsteps crunching impossibly loudly as the murmurs of the party drifted up into the cold winter air. Vaguely, you could hear them counting. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was you and her. “I would. If you want.”

“I would like that very much.” She whispered as you finally stood in front of her.

Slowly, gently, you leaned forward, a tender hand touching her face. Her breath hitched, eyes flicking from one of yours to the other before finally landing on your lips, just as you closed the distance between the two of you. It was sweet. It was slow. It was everything you expected it to be and more. Her floral scent drifted through your nostrils, that intoxicating scent that reminded you of spring, even in the dead of winter.

When you pulled apart, you brushed the vibrant red hairs from her forehead before pressing another kiss there, as well. “Happy New Year, Penelope. Thank you, for letting me get a head start on my resolution.”

She smiled softly, gazing at you. “To kiss as many eligible women of the Ton as you can?”

“No, to kiss you.”

And as soon as those words left your lips, you soon found hers on them again…

[aleniaaa]

"I thought about this before" bsf!Rafe x kook!reader part two

here's part one

a/n: hey guys I decided to do a part two of my last story lmk if you like it

warnings: curse words

words count: 842

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

My phone rang unexpectedly. I picked it up and saw that it was Sarah. It had been two days since the party, and I hadn’t heard from any of the Camerons.

"Hey Sarah, what’s up?" I answered.

"Hey girl, I’m sorry to call you, but I wanted to ask if you’ve seen Rafe lately. I can’t seem to find him anywhere. Maybe he’s at yours?"

I was shocked by what I heard. Did Rafe run away? "No, sorry, he hasn’t contacted me in the last two days. I’ll try to find him," I said.

"Thank you, y/n. It means so much to me. You know, with Ward gone, he’s unpredictable," she replied, her worry clear in her voice. I knew their relationship wasn’t perfect—they had always had a troublesome dynamic.

"No problem. I’ll keep you posted," I reassured her, ending the call. Immediately, I tried calling Rafe.

"Hi, you’ve reached Rafe Cameron. I can’t talk right now. Leave a message," his voicemail greeted me, followed by a loud beep. Frustrated, I decided to drive to Barry’s place—maybe he’d know where Rafe was.

Twenty minutes later, I parked my 2022 Porsche 718 outside Barry’s trailer. Stepping out, I closed the door and walked up to knock. After a minute, the door creaked open.

"Oh shit, look who the fuck showed up at my humble doorstep. What’s good, y/n?" Barry greeted me, his eyes scanning me up and down.

"Hey, is Rafe here?" I asked directly, not in the mood for his games.

"Hell yeah. Yo, Country Club! Look who’s here!" he shouted, and Rafe appeared almost instantly, stepping outside and closing the door behind him.

"Y/n, what’re you doing here?" he asked, looking surprised to see me.

"What I’m doing here?! What the hell are you doing here? Your sister called me—she said she can’t get a hold of you. Why are you ignoring her and me?" His attitude pissed me off, and I found myself yelling at him.

Rafe raised his hands in surrender, trying to calm me down. "Listen, I needed to get away from everything. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up. When I woke up after the party, I didn’t remember anything and decided I needed to get clean for a while. Tannyhill was stressing me out too much."

"And you thought a dealer’s place was the best place to crash? Jesus, Rafe, you could’ve let me know." I rubbed my forehead, trying to think. He stood there, looking at me apologetically.

"So wait, you don’t remember anything? Like during the party or… anything at all?" I asked cautiously, trying to figure out if he remembered our kiss.

"I mean, I remember being mad and throwing a party, and then I fucking blacked out. That’s all," he admitted. I didn’t know how to feel. Should I be relieved? I knew he was drunk when he kissed me, but a part of me wished he would do it again. The pit in my stomach grew heavier.

"Alright, well, I’m glad you’re okay. Don’t scare me like that again. I’ll let Sarah know," I said and turned to head back to my car.

"Wait, y/n! Can you drop me off at home? I don’t have my car here," he called out.

"Sure, get in," I replied, unlocking the door. A short while later, we were driving to Tannyhill in silence.

Rafe broke it first. "Why were you asking if I remember anything? Did something happen?" he asked, looking at me with curiosity.

I froze, my grip tightening on the steering wheel. "I mean, nothing of much significance. I just got you to bed and made sure everyone left shortly after that," I lied, keeping my eyes on the road.

"Oh shit, really? Hahaha, I wouldn’t know," he chuckled, clearly not remembering a thing. I prayed he wouldn’t ask me more questions.

I dropped him off, and the rest of my drive home was spent in blissful silence. Only my thoughts interrupted it.

Why was I thinking about him differently now? It was just a meaningless, drunken kiss. He’s just my friend. That’s all. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling. How much longer could I keep lying to myself?

a/n: should I make a mood board for this🤭

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[victory-cookies]

last day of work at the frozen food store tomorrow. kinda not sure how to feel

[alagaisia]

I don’t want to be at work today I want to be home working on the cabinet I’m building

[forgotten-daydreamer]

Took twice the max dose of melatonin before the final revision for tomorrow’s exam, I’m shitting my pants and I genuinely don’t know anything as thoroughly as I should but if I sleep less than 4 hrs before it I just know I’m gonna do even worse somehow

[persephoneflouwers]

Anons ✨

[lesbiansanemi]

I don’t often think I’m upset at not having a good relationship with my parents but sometimes it really fucking hits me that I don’t have a good mom I don’t have a dad I’ll never experience having a good parent and someone I can lean on like that and I get… really upset

[vampirebutterflies]

listen ‘ere boy there is a voice in ur head telling u ur fine and you don’t need to go to therapy tomorrow and that voice is a f u c k i n g liar don’t listen to it boy don’t fuckin’ listen to that rat ass bastard it does NOT have ur best interests at heart

[cherrysnax]

@ anon sorry I accidentally deleted ur ask!! to answer ur question though, I think it’s a bad idea because.. i fear rejection i guess and I suppose what I fear more is the opposite