#like. a bit. they are only there for like one second

[pangur-and-grim]

my creative writing prof also HATES fantasy. as in if she asks for an example of symbolism in a book, and you give something from a fantasy novel, she’ll ask for an example from a “non-commercial book” instead.

I dunno man, people can have preferences, but the second you discount the artistic merit of sci fi and fantasy I stop taking your opinion seriously. and there’s such a big culture in Canada of only valuing literary fiction, to the point where one of our biggest authors, Margaret Atwood, refused for a while to classify her books as sci fi or fantasy. she said they were “speculative fiction”, which is entirely separate and very highbrow (sarcasm).

and I could go on about how Octavia Butler and Ursula Le Guin wrote books every bit as intellectual (and honestly, even more so) than their literary counterparts, but I am also an enjoyer of schlock!! I think there’s artistic merit in animorphs, and in isekais where a japanese schoolgirl reincarnates into a magical spider who has to level up like it’s a video game! it’s like with everything, you can’t draw a clean line that separates ‘art’ from ‘non-art’ or even ‘lesser art’, and pretending you can do so just makes you look ignorant and goofy. in my opinion.

[moon-my-beloved]

neighbors (tf141 x fem! reader)

part II: company

tw: a bit of obsession and touches from the boys but nothing sexual!! possessiveness. mentions of reader fitting ‘snug’ in a dress but nothing too specific. that’s it. - xoxo

the ride back home was quiet.

silence stretching over the small murmurs of the radio warning people of temperatures dropping along with the sound of the engine running as you drove, grocery bags shoved into the back of the seat.

it really wasn’t until you made it home that you had snapped out of your momentarily dream-like state that you realized what you have done.

you still couldn’t believe it. why couldn’t you just have come up with something, anything to avoid making a fool of yourself with how bad you’re with people.

“oh god,” you groan to yourself. pressing your forehead against the steering wheel with embarrassment taking over your senses. why of all times did you just have to coincidently bump into them?!

you really would’ve preferred it if you had encountered them on a free day and not when you’re trudging around the damn store with your dingy old work clothes. then again, kyle and johnny seemed.. trustworthy at first glance. not to mention how beautiful they were.

they carried an air to them that felt friendly enough but dangerous as well. your brain going blank for a moment when you were surrounded by the two men. an invisible thread luring you into their trap. you don’t know if it was kyles sweet voice or the smell of amber from johnny’s cologne, but they had left you with a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. leaving you in a trance for a split-second before uttering the only syllables you could think of.

blood rushes to your face with shame thinking about them in such ways. how long has it been since you’ve experienced this? clearly long enough from the looks of it. your palms are sweaty, breath a bit short, and your heart is practically beating its way out of your chest like you’re some sort of high school girl being forced to confess to their crush.

you jolt a bit at the sound of a small “buzz” coming from your phone. your eyes almost bulging out of your skull when you unlock your screen— it’s a message from johnny and kyle.

< made a small group chat to make it easier. hope you don’t mind luv.

< we’ll see ye tmrw night, right bonnie?

your fingers hover over the keys, chewing at your bottom lip anxiously as you contemplate how to respond. kyle had mentioned meeting the rest of the team, ignoring how just the thought of talking to them made you want to curl yourself up into a ball until you became invisible. it really wouldn’t hurt to meet them. it will be okay. they were your neighbors for god sake.

taking a deep breath, you typed out what you were going to say.

> sure! sounds good. :)

you barely managed to calm down your nerves before your phone vibrated again.

< atta girl. we’ll see ye at 6.

what did you get yourself into.

you had nearly forgotten how much effort it takes to get ready.

you really weren’t one to wake up early, especially during your off days but today was an exemption. hopping into the shower to shave, exfoliate, moisturize, and pretty much scrub off every crevice from your body as soon as your alarm went off. practically stumbling your way out of the bathroom with how lightheaded you felt by the end of it.

your makeup was next. trying your best to copy a look off of pinterest and almost calling it a day with the many times you had to redo your eyeliner. nevertheless, you had successfully overcome that obstacle. which brings you to your own little dilemma: you had nothing good to wear.

all the clothes varied from old band t-shirts, jeans and sweatpants you wore to laze around. you rarely went out and when you did, it would only be for a short period of time to run some errands or to visit the old bat.

“come on closet, give me something, anything!” cursing to yourself in desperation as you rummaged through the pits of your closet.

after what seemed like forever, your hand grazed against a soft material, pulling it out to reveal a dress. it was no fancy dress but it definitely looked like the better option to wear. it was off-the-shoulder, had long-sleeves, and was long enough to cover your thighs but a bit small around the edges with how snug it felt against your body. it must have been lying around in your closet for who knows how long considering how you have no clue why or when you even bought it.

it felt weird, and new as your ran your hand against the fabric. hesitation soon clouding your mind as you look at yourself in the mirror.

maybe this was a bad idea. you should have said no. you’ll just look weird, now you’re going to make a fool of yours—

—catching glimpse of the time you gasp. shit. no time to mop in your own feelings. quickly and gently pulling the sheer material of your tights over your legs and tying the laces of your boots once you get to the door, doing a quick once-over in front of your mirror before you were out the house. wine in hand as a last minute resort to bring something. a courtesy on your part really.

they were just across from you, why are you so nervous to meet your neighbors? neighbors do this all the time. this is completely normal.

a chill running down your spine with the sudden cold gust of wind brushing over your face even with your coat on. you stood there in front of their door for a bit, subconsciously shifting your weight on each of your legs as you swayed in apprehension.

you can do it. it’s okay, just knock.

taking a deep breath in, you lifted your hand up, planting three solid knocks against the wood of the door and quickly pulling it back once you hear the heavy footsteps of someone coming.

you stiffen once you hear the click of the door opening, your breath catching in your throat as you crane your neck a bit to see the man in front of you.

skull face.

it takes you a moment to recognize who he is now that he’s not wearing a balaclava. instead, he has a black surgical mask adoring his face, just enough to cover most of his features but revealing enough to see the small details. he’s a dirty blonde that’s for sure, making him look less intimidating than when you saw him for the first time. his dark eyes are roaming over your figure, leaving you standing still in fear of some way offending him if you even dared to move just an inch.

he’s wearing a grey long-sleeve shirt, along with a pair of grey joggers. you hope you hadn’t interrupted his sleep with how disheveled his hair looks. he looks comfortable though, questioning your own choice of attire. you might have overdressed.

before you could open your mouth to introduce yourself, a booming voice can be heard from behind the man.

“don’ be scarin’ off our guest, simon!” a toothy grin on his face as he slides next to the taller man. arm wrapping around simon’s waist before letting out a low whistle that makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. “well look at ye. so bonnie, m’ glad ye could make it lass, come in. gaz is just finishing up makin’ us dinner.”

nodding, your eyes flicker back at simon as you extend your hand for him to take. “it’s nice to meet you, simon. I, uh, live across from you guys.”a throaty grunt coming from him as he engulfs your hand in his, firmly shaking your hand in return.

they let you in once introductions are over, johnny’s hand hovering over the sole of your back as he follows you into the living room, telling you to get comfortable.

“don’ ye worry, simon doesn’t bite.” looking over at the man with an expression only him and simon would understand as he grabs the wine from your hands, disappearing into the kitchen.

it was awkward to the say the least. silence stretching over the two of you as simon sits across from you on an arm chair, book in his hands and eyebrows scrunched up in concentration.

it went on like that for about a few minutes before simon’s gravely voice cut through the stillness of the room.

“you like it so far?” he asks. the question catching you off guard before realizing what he means. “oh, yes! everyone’s been so nice and welcoming. especially auntie lottie.” a small smile forming on your lips as you recounter your many little dates together.

simon’s eyes crinkle at that, setting the book down beside him as he crosses his arms over his chest. sleeve rolling up a bit to reveal some ink. “‘s there a particular reason why you moved here?”

alarm bells ring in your mind at that. for someone who’s quiet, he sure likes to ask personal questions. you’re new to the neighborhood though, you could understand if he’s wary of you.

“I had some ‘issues’ with my roommate. now ex-roommate,” you say. a deep hum coming from the man across from you as he tilts his head to the side. “can’t say i don’t know what that feels like. have to deal with these muppets all the time.”

you can’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head in amusement. “for some reason I doubt they’re any worse than the person I lived with.”

“must have been a hell of a roommate then. you’ve peaked my interest sweetheart.” simon’s shoulders relaxing from their tense position once he heard the sweet sound of your laughter.

he had to admit, he was wrong about you. you were not who he envisioned you to be. his own skepticism plaguing his mind when gaz and soap came through the door with news about the new neighbor. johnny gushing about how much of a sweet thing you were and kyle nodding in agreement as he listened. price leaning against the wall as he watched the whole thing with a raised eyebrow.

“we have tae invite her over ghost. you’ll like her, ah promise.”

he was ready to decline the offer. ready to scold johnny for even suggesting inviting a stranger over, especially one he and price hadn’t met before. yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. seeing how johnny eyes practically screamed please and how kyle’s own head leaned against his chest as he stared at him.

“I don’t see a problem with it.” price said, giving simon a small shrug as he sipped on his tea.

jaw clenching, he sighed.

“fine.”

now looking at you, he understands why the boys took interest in you. you were gorgeous. a nervous thing. you reminded him of a scruffy kitten with how skittish and bad you were at holding eye contact. your fingers picking at the fabric of your tights that will surely leave a rip by the of the night. he had a feeling price will love a pretty doll like you.

he knew you lived alone. johnny and kyle had suspected you did and it didn’t take long for him and price to figure out you had no one to come home to with how much of a chatter box auntie lottie could be.

and for some reason the thought of you being alone left him with an annoying itch in his brain. an itch that had his fists curling until his knuckles turned white as he stared at you. who would leave such a sweet thing like you all alone?

“simon?” your voice cuts through his thoughts. eyes flickering towards you as your warm palm lays against his knee. eyes furrowing in confusion as you stare at him with those pretty eyes. “are you okay?”

“‘m fine. don’t worry, luv.” your lips turning into a small smile as you retreat your hand, fighting the urge to grab you and hold you against him forever.

silence falls between you again. your palms sweating a bit as you feel simon’s eyes on you.

your attention is soon ripped away from your hands as you hear the door opening, revealing the older man from a few days ago.

mutton chops.

he looks better up close. beard nicely trimmed and kind eyes as he stares at you. he has his winter clothes on. beanie on top of his head along with a jacket and cargo pants.

placing the grocery bags he was carrying on the counter next to the door as he makes his way next to simon.

“and who might this be?” he asks, staring down at you as you scramble to stand up and walk towards him. stuttering a small introduction as you extend your hand which he takes and brings closer to his face. staring wide-eyed as he presses a small kiss against the skin before he lets you go.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you. the boys have been talking about you.” he says, letting out a gruff chuckle as he takes the beanie off his head.

“i hope good things, sir.” you return with a tight smile. a small snort can be heard next to him as simon tilts his chin down to hide his laughter. mutton chops sending him a hard glare before returning his attention back to you.

“just call me john, darlin’. we are all friends here, right?” you can only nod, muttering a small apology before kyle and johnny come walking back to the living room, announcing that dinner is ready.

kyle brings you into a hug, pressing a small kiss against the side of your face between your jaw and neck that has you sucking in your breath.

“I’m so glad you could make it. I hope you’re hungry, i made a big feast.” his hands lingering a bit before johnny slides next to him, pushing him a bit to the side.

“kyle an’ simon are our little chefs of the house.” sending a teasing look at their direction as simon just rolls his eyes while kyle pulls johnny in for a quick kiss. your face heating up as you’re smushed between their bodies.

“stop hovering’ over the bird and let’s eat. we all are hungry.” price says, gently pulling you close to him as he leads you to the dinner table. the boys following behind them as you hear johnny and kyle wince at simon smacking them on the back of their head.

dinner goes smoothly. the men talking amongst each other where you stay quiet for the most part but are quick to shoot a response when they ask questions.

oblivious to the way their gaze never wavers every time you speak.

your tummy full with all the delicious food kyle made that had you moaning with every bite. kyle biting his lip to hide the small grin forming with how he preened in satisfaction.

with everyone occupied with their food, you took the moment to analyze all of them. there’s definitely a strong relationship between the four men.

price reaching out to squeeze kyle’s hand in appreciation by the end of dinner as the younger man just sends him a fond look.

johnny and simon were practically glued by the hip. soap naturally brushing his hand against simon’s thigh every time he talked or made a horrible dad joke which you couldn’t help but laugh every single time. they all fitted with one another like a puzzle. a small glow coming from them with all the gazes and smiles they shared.

at times you felt like you were an intruder watching from outside the glass, and maybe it was envy you felt. not towards the men but towards the love and devotion they had for one another. they were all beautiful and you were the ugly duckling of the group.

you had gone quiet without you realizing it, price touching your shoulder as you jolted in surprise. turning your head towards him as you’re met with a soft gaze. “we lost you there for a minute, love.”

“i.. I’m sorry. I kinda got lost in thought.” you say, offering a little laugh as you gulp down the last of your wine. god, how much have you drunk to get this emotional over something so meaningless?

if john notices the way your voice wavers or the way you eyes gloss over, he doesn’t comment on it. instead, asking kyle and johnny to take you to the couch to watch a movie as him and simon clean the dishes. ignoring your protests in helping and shutting you up with a stern look.

johnny pinches your cheek as you sulk like a child for not being able to help. “you’re our guest silly. would be rude tae make ye work.” setting you down on the comfy couch, blanket in hand as he sits to your right and kyle to your left. squished between their warm bodies.

“get comfortable, princess.” kyle murmurs beside you, the hairs on your neck standing with how close he is. wondering if they could hear goat fast your heart is beating.

the boys insist in you to pick the movie, settling on watching the “elf” with christmas just around the corner. you try your very best to stay focused on the tv screen, ignoring the way johnny ever so often lightly brushes his fingers against your shoulder with how he rests his arm around the back of the couch. or the way kyle brushes his leg against your thigh, sending you an innocent simple every time you look his way.

at some point in the middle of the movie, your eyes grow heavy. your body fighting the urge to shut down after a long week of work. you soon lose the battle, the mixture of both kyle and johnny’s warmness, their scents, soft touches and way of making you feel relaxed win over your consciousness.

you think you feel a soft blanket drape itself on you along with your shoes being removed. the faintest touch against your cheek before you drift to sleep.

“goodnight mo luaidh.”

a/n: I’m not very proud of this one but i tried my best. 😓 please let me know if there’s anything i should fix/improve on. love ya! <33

[flwrstqr]

愛 𓈒 THAT'S SO TRUE ✶ FAKE DATING ENHYPEN ╰—— 𝓲. ⸝⸝ 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅

❪ PROLOGUE. ❫ enhypen & f!r 1OOOwc. ❜ fake dating, fluff, head canons, oneshots ⎯⎯ being drunk skinship, petnames partying . . ADORE

다니 : after much contemplation.. i decided to post this. it's a slight remake of my old fake dating fic i made during the summer TT ++ jenni told me to post this one

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 heeseung’s hand rests on your waist, pulling you closer as you laugh at a joke neither of you are really paying attention to. his eyes, though, don’t leave you—not for a second. they roam over you shamelessly, lingering on the curve of your lips, the way your hair falls over your shoulder, the dip of your collarbone. “you’re really making this easy for me, baby,” he murmurs, voice low enough that only you can hear. the pet name rolls off his tongue effortlessly, like it’s meant to be there, like you’re meant to be there with him. you try to ignore the heat crawling up your neck, but he smirks, clearly noticing. “what?” you ask, trying to sound annoyed, but it only makes his grin widen. “nothing,” he says, eyes flickering to your lips. “just thinking how good you look tonight—for me, of course.”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 "okay, first tilt your head a little—no, not like that, jay, just... here," you mutter, guiding his chin with your fingers. he’s sitting on the couch, and you’re perched on his lap, knees tucked around him like this is the most normal thing in the world. “then, you hold the girl’s waist, like this.” his hands hover awkwardly before settling, a bit hesitant, on your hips. “now lean in, slowly,” you instruct. his lashes lower as he leans closer, “like this?” before you can answer, his lips brush yours, and you’re startled by how effortlessly good he is. your breath catches, hands gripping his shoulders for balance. when he pulls back, cheeks flushed, you blink at him, utterly speechless. “did i... do it right?” he asks, grinning shyly, and you hate how smug he looks now.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 jake sits cross-legged on the floor beside your couch, the plastic bag with the soup crinkling as he pulls it out, his brows furrowed with worry. "you look awful," he murmurs, but his voice is so gentle. you groan, tugging the blanket higher over your face, your cheeks burning—part fever, part embarrassment. "don’t look at me," you mumble, hiding the fact that this is the first time he’s seen you without makeup. but jake just pouts, his hand brushing your forehead to check your temperature. "how could i not look? you’re still my pretty girl," he says softly, and it’s almost enough to make you forget you’re supposed to be fake dating. his fingers linger at your temple as he pushes a stray hair back. he’s worried sick, but god, you’ve never felt so cared for.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 sunghoon’s hand finds the small of your back as you stand by the snack table, his touch grounding despite the fact that your blood is boiling. the girl hasn’t stopped shamelessly giggling at his every word, her manicured hand brushing his arm like it’s hers to hold. "you’re glaring, sweetheart," he leans in, his voice low and teasing against your ear. your stomach flips at the pet name, but you refuse to let him see how much it affects you. "i’m not," you snap, crossing your arms, but his smirk only deepens. you swear sometimes you forget its some fake date. "jealousy looks cute on you," he whispers, stepping closer until his chest is almost flush against yours. "you’re imagining things," you mutter, refusing to meet his eyes.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 “princess, you okay?” sunoo’s voice cuts through the awkward tension, his arm sliding around your waist, pulling you against him. you barely have time to answer before he turns to the guy who’s been laughing a little too loud at your jokes. “sorry, we have to go,” he adds sharply, smiling but not really. the guy steps back, startled, and sunoo’s grip tightens just enough for you to feel the heat of his jealousy. “don’t mind him,” you whisper, trying to diffuse it, but he’s already walking you away, jaw clenched. he stops suddenly, turning you to face him. “seriously, what was that?” his fingers brush against your cheek as his thumb lingers at your jaw. “you’re too good for them, you know that, right?”

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 the room spins slightly, laughter and music blending into a hazy blur as you clutch jungwon’s arm, his steady warmth grounding you. “kiss me already,” you slur, voice low enough to get lost in the noise but just sharp enough to make him smirk. he tilts his head, eyes dancing with mischief, lips so close you can almost taste the unspoken answer. “hmm, be patient, babe,” he murmurs, voice like velvet, his hand sliding to the small of your back, pulling you closer in a way that makes your breath hitch. his other hand grazes your cheek, thumb brushing over and it’s too convincing—how his lips ghost over yours but never quite meet. for a second, you forget it’s all fake, that he’s not really yours, and you wonder if he’s too good at this or if he just likes the way your eyes beg for him.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 you glare at riki as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer, his smirk infuriatingly smug. "can you not be so handsy?" you hiss, shoving at his chest. "relax, sweetheart," he teases, leaning in close, voice dripping with mock affection. "we’re supposed to look convincing." you scoff, crossing your arms, but his fingers lace through yours, a saccharine grin plastered on his face as he whispers, "smile, angel." you shoot him a glare instead. "don’t call me that," you mutter, but the warmth of his hand lingers, distracting. "aw, jealous much?" he quips, lips brushing your temple briefly—just for show, of course. your heart betrays you. "jealous? of you? keep dreaming, lover boy." his laugh is soft, teasing. "sure, darling. whatever helps you sleep at night." his grin is infuriating, and god, you hate him. almost.

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[gloomwitchwrites]

Another one (said to the tune of dj khaled)

What if/imagine...have you ever seen the tiktok/reel where the SO randomly knocks something out of the others hands and walks away? Ex. price is sitting on the couch looking at his phone and you just walk by and knock it out of his hands and keep going.

It's meant to be playful, not hurting or damaging any object. It's definitely a way to get someone's attention. 🤣

Another is right. I have such a list to get through I feel like I cannot stay organize lmao. I love a good prank. I love a good, non-malicious prank. I love pulling said prank on one (all) the 141. Hilarious. Amazing. Give me more. Thank you for dropping into my inbox with this little gem. <3

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (MDNI): hijinks & shenanigans, pranks, flirting, suggestive themes, established relationship

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John relaxes on the sofa, cellphone in hand, fingers tapping away at the screen. He’s in his own world, either chatting away with someone or playing a silly little game.

What’s a bit of fun? A little disturbance in routine? You’re always teasing him in one way or another. This is just another opportunity.

With as much nonchalance as you can muster, you stroll past him and knock his phone out his hand. It’s not hard, or aggressive, more like a cat pushing something off the top shelf.

He clears his throat. “Right. If that’s how you want to behave, dove.”

John slowly stands, smoothing the front of his shirt in a causal gesture. It’s far too calm for him, which means you’re in trouble.

As you pause just inside the hall, you step behind the wall, using it as a defensive barrier. The only part of you that’s visible is the upper half of your body. You don’t dare speak as John’s head swivels in your direction. There isn’t anger or frustration, but a tiny smirk, hinting at amusement.

“You have my attention, love” he purrs. “Thought I was ignoring you?”

You swallow as he takes a step forward.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is perched in front of the television, gaming controller in his hands. It’s entirely likely that he’s on with Kyle, perhaps even Simon. He has his headset on, talking rapidly as his character moves around on the screen.

Even while on leave, he’s playing games that resemble what he does for a living.

“On the left. That’s it.”

He’s far too focused on the screen to notice that you’ve moved closer to him. You wait on purpose, watching for an opportune moment. Johnny’s gaze is razor-sharp, tongue slightly poking out of his mouth as the screen hordes all his concentration.

“I’m down.”

The screen shifts as his character is respawned. Just as he returns, you lean in and smack the controller out of his hands. It clatters to the floor. His character is promptly killed again. As it respawns, Johnny twists to glance at you.

“I’ll be back, mates,” he says just before removing his headset.

“You,” he says, the shock turning into mischievousness. “You naughty little thing.” Johnny launches himself at you, jumping over the back of the sofa like it’s no effort at all.

You take off, cackling.

“Come here,” he shouts. “Putting you over my knee.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

As you poke your head into the bathroom, you find Simon standing in front of the mirror. He notices you watching him but says nothing, going about his morning routine as he always does.

There’s an idea brewing in your head, a small torment, a little fun. The thing about Simon is that he’s sturdy and relatively passive about most things. He’s the stoic one. The calm one. Nothing phases him.

Which is why it’s easy to gather up the courage to be a little naughty—to act out.

Simon retrieves his toothbrush and adds a dollop of mint toothpaste. Running it under the faucet for a brief second, he brings it to his mouth. As he brushes his teeth, you take a small step inside. Simon doesn’t react, just continues about his business.

When he goes to put the toothbrush back under the water, you reach out, snatching the toothbrush right out of his hand. You pop it into your mouth and begin brushing your teeth with it.

Simon freezes, and then slowly turns in your direction. You cock an eyebrow, daring him to say something.

He doesn’t. Simon opens a drawer and retrieves a brand-new toothbrush, completely unbothered.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle lifts his arm, remote pointed at the television. On days like this, it’s the perfect opportunity to be a little cheeky. Nothing stirs the pot like poking at Kyle’s buttons. It’s never in maliciousness. If anything, it’s to get what you want, which is Kyle’s attention. And he’s always happy to give it when you’re acting bratty.

As he ups the volume of the rugby game, you pass directly in front of him, snatching the remote, turning the television off, and tossing the remote onto the recliner nearby. Kyle blinks, arms still raised and pointed at the television as if he’s frozen in time.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Kyle’s labored sigh.

“You know,” he chuckles. “If you want my attention, love, just say so.”

You glance over your shoulder as you enter the hallway. Kyle has a languid, flirty expression on his face. The remote is ignored as he stands, hands already grasping his shirt, removing it from his body. Taut muscle is revealed, and a sudden heat blooms in your belly.

You certainly have all his attention now.

Kyle takes a step forward, discarding the shirt. “Thinking we need a little lesson on behavior, yeah?”

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@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @z-wantstowrite @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[minswriting]

UNKNOWN TERRITORY - A.H x Reader x S.R

About: Spencer walks in on Aaron going down on you. So he watches the two of you have sex.

A/N: this didn’t come out exactly how i wanted it to but i have so many ideas on this dynamic lol. so feel free to send aaron x reader x spencer requests!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, office sex, unprotected sex, oral (f), getting caught, voyeurism, masturbation (m), whiny Spencer, whiny reader, making out, Spencer’s a virgin and receives a handjob

Word Count: 1.5k

Working late at the Bureau wasn’t one of your favorite things to do, especially after working a really long case. No one else was at the Bureau except you and Aaron, everyone had already gone home. You were exhausted and just wanted to go home as well. But you also didn’t want to be alone. You wanted to be between Aaron’s sheets as he fucked you into a blissful state. Instead, you were sitting on Aaron’s desk, thoroughly distracting him from the work he claimed he absolutely had to do, as he was on his knees with his face buried between your legs.

Your legs rested on Aaron’s shoulders as his tongue lapped around your cunt, coating his tongue with your juices. Your hands gripped the desk as you let out the most beautiful noises, soft moans with quiet whimpers. Aaron’s tongue dipped to your hole, causing his nose to grind against your clit. You gasped, moving a hand to Aaron’s head as your eyes fluttered shut. You gently tugged at his hair, causing Aaron to groan against your pussy. The sound sent vibrations through you, making you buck your hips in response.

You knew exactly when this sexual relationship began with Aaron. About four months ago, the two of you were forced to share a room in the rural countryside in Vermont for a case with only one bed. So naturally, you ended up with your face buried in the pillow as Aaron fucked you into oblivion. And you had absolutely no regrets.

Aaron worked meticulously at eating you out. He loved when he could just bury his face between your thighs. The amount of times you’ve woken up with his tongue inside of you was more than often whenever he slept at your place. Your pussy was like his happy place and he never failed to show you that. He moved his lips against your cunt, slurping as he sucked on your clit.

You whined, still gripping Aaron’s hair. You opened your eyes to look down at him, only to see someone standing at the door. You gasped. “S-Spencer,” You said, eyes widening.

Aaron stopped his movements, looking up at you with confusion. “What?” He deadpanned.

You pointed a shaky finger at the doorway. “Spencer,” You said again. Aaron turned his head, seeing Spencer standing in the doorway with a file in hand. Spencer was frozen, shocked at the scene in front of him. His lips were parted, his eyes wide like a deer, his cheeks were pinkened, and he was sporting a very obvious hard-on.

Nothing was spoken between the three of you for a good few seconds. You were still exposed, your pants sitting comfortably on Aaron’s couch in his office. Your legs were still on Aaron’s shoulders. You thought Aaron would stop the whole ordeal, being the most logical person in the room because he was your and Spencer’s boss. However, instead, he looks at Spencer and then at you and says “Reid, if you’re going to stand there and watch, you can at least come in and close the door,” before diving back into eating you out.

The action caused you to gasp and moan, your hand going back to Aaron’s hair. Spencer quickly walked into the office, closing the door behind him. He stood awkwardly in the room, watching the scene before him. He bit his lip, watching as Aaron ate you out. The way your body reacted to Aaron’s touch, the way your lips parted in an “o”. You looked as though you were in Heaven, basking in the pleasures that Aaron bestowed on you. And Spencer couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to. Spencer’s never done anything remotely sexual so his experience is very much nonexistent. What better way to learn to pleasure someone than to watch it happen right in front of you?

The look you were giving Spencer as Aaron ate you out was one that Spencer would likely jerk off to frequently. He had expected that you would look at Aaron as if he was the one pleasuring you but instead, your lustful gaze met Spencer’s doe eyes, as though you wanted him to join. And as you let out a loud moan, biting your lip when Aaron sucked on your clit, you made a come here motion to Spencer. Spencer was quick to walk over to you, placing the file that was in his hands on Aaron’s desk before taking a seat next to you on the desk. He looked at you, waiting for you to say or do anything.

You tilted your head towards Spencer, looking at him. “Kiss me,” you breathed out.

And Spencer didn’t need to be told twice as he put his lips onto yours.

Aaron glanced up as he continued eating you out, his hands on your thighs. He saw you and Spencer kissing, unable to help the small chuckle that escaped his lips against your cunt. The action of itself caused you to moan against Spencer’s mouth, allowing his tongue to explore you. Your kisses with Spencer were slow but hungry. Both of your hands were tugging at Aaron’s hair.

You could feel yourself getting closer. With the way Aaron’s tongue kept moving around on your pussy and how his nose would brush against your clit. The way Spencer’s tongue moved inside your mouth as he kissed you. The little cherry on top that sent you over the edge was the way Spencer had tentatively put a hand on your left boob, massaging the flesh through your shirt. You came with a loud moan that was muffled by Spencer’s mouth. Your thighs clenched around Aaron’s face, shaking as your orgasm overcame you.

When you finished, you pulled away from the kiss to look down at Aaron, breathing heavily. He pulled away from your cunt, taking your legs off of his shoulder as he stood up. His face was glistening from your juices. He took the back of his hand, wiping his chin before licking his lips. It wasn’t long until the three of you were undressed and moved to Aaron’s couch.

Spencer was sitting on the left side of the couch while Aaron had you bent over on the rest of it, his cock thrusting into you hard. Your eyes were rolled back as Spencer watched you. He had his cock in his hand, stroking himself with his fist. He thumbed the tip of his cock, spreading around the precum that had accumulated, causing him to let out a whine.

That noise sent a shiver down your spine, causing your pussy to flutter around Aaron’s cock. “Oh you liked that didn’t you, baby?” Aaron groaned, giving you a particularly harsh thrust, eliciting a sharp moan from you.

“Yes,” you whined, looking at Spencer.

Spencer really couldn’t believe what was happening to him. He knew it should’ve been wrong. The fact that you were his coworker and Hotch was his boss. And yet, he could hardly find himself caring when you looked so pretty getting railed by your boss. Spencer began stroking himself a bit faster, pumping his cock in rhythm of Aaron’s thrusts. But when your hand moved to wrap around Spencer’s, helping him jerk himself off? Spencer almost came right then and there. “O-oh fuck,” Spencer whimpered out, throwing his head back. His eyes met with Aaron’s as he turned his head to the side as Aaron gave him a smirk.

Aaron’s thrusts became more frenzied, chasing the pleasure that you both craved. The office was filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin, moans and whines from both you and Spencer, and the low groans that Aaron was letting out.

It didn’t take long for Spencer to cum. His hips began meeting your fist and he was done for. His cum landed on his chest and stomach as Spencer let out the most beautiful noises you had ever heard.

The heat was building in your abdomen from Aaron’s thrusts. You were close and Aaron could tell. “Go ahead and cum for me, baby,” Aaron said, grabbing your ass and massaging it. His breathing was harsh just like his thrusts.

You came with a high pitched noise that was surely pornographic, a noise that will live in Spencer’s dreams frequently. You buried your head into the leather cushion, cumming from Aaron’s cock. Aaron continued his pace before letting out a loud groan, burying himself deep inside of you as he came.

Harsh breathing filled the air as the three of you came down from your highs. You looked at Spencer who was moving his gaze between you and Aaron. None of you spoke. But there was change in the way the three of you interacted from now on. This fateful night marked the night when Spencer became part of your dynamic with Aaron. It was uncertain as to where it would go or what would come of it. But all that mattered was teaching one another and exploring each other’s bodies.

[mejaemin]

trained him well - choi seungcheol

wc: 0.8k

summary: chan calls about his relationship problems, surfacing memories of a time where seungcheol used to cause the same trouble

warnings: light cursing, suicide mention (as a joke), fluff, cuddling, pet names

an: i literally just wrote this in like 30 minutes bc i got random inspo for it. i lowk hate doing things like this, including readers from one fic in one with a “different reader” but i felt like it’d be fun to do this pov !!! i hope evb enjoys my coups debut !!!

(this is a second pov to my other work 6 hours !!! i don’t think it’s necessary to read it but things would probably make a little more sense if you did)

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you’re laying with seungcheol in bed, his obnoxiously loud snores filling the room as he sleeps on top of you. his cheeks are puffy and smushed, and his lips are parted with the way he rests his head on your chest. every once in a while he’ll subconsciously snuggle into you a little more when he feels your nails scrape his scalp, soothing him even when he’s in his dreamland.

it’s your boyfriend’s day off, the office going on a company wide vacation for some holiday. all of his friends have off too, and after their late night celebration yesterday he’s been sleeping all morning into the afternoon. you couldn’t complain, knowing that with your allergies to working this fits right in with your everyday routine. his body is heavy on top of yours, going fully dead weight in his slumber but it’s just the right amount of pressure to feel comfortable, lulling you back to sleep.

just as your mind slips from its last bit of consciousness, it’s brought right back by the loud, annoying screech of a phone ringing. sifting through the sheets for whoever’s it is, you pull out seungcheol’s phone. it’s chan who’s calling, and you really couldn’t be bothered to let your boyfriend know, especially when his ringtone didn’t even wake him up. declining the call, you set it back down and try going back to sleep before it rings again.

accepting defeat, you gently push the man’s shoulder. “cheollie, get up..” you whine, just as displeased as he is when he picks his head up.

he squints, looking up at you. “hm?” he looks incredibly displeased, and you almost want to pinch his cheeks at his furrowed brows and pout.

“chan is calling.” you hand him his phone, and he sighs heavily at the disturbance.

“so? i’m too tired for this-“ the call ends, having taken to long to pick up. it starts right back up again, his caller id paired with a photo of him while drunk filling the screen.

“that’s the third time, honey. maybe you should answer?”

he sighs, letting his head fall back down against you before putting it on speaker next to his face. their conversation is brief, seungcheol too comfortable and tired to keep it up any longer than necessary. it makes you laugh, chan whining and panicking as he vents to the elder about his relationship issues. apparently he’s been given the silent treatment, and he’s so distressed he could ‘actually throw up’ over it. your boyfriend asks why, and when he learns how stupid the situation is, yet eerily similar to one he’s been in before, the only advice he can give is “you did that to yourself, man.”

truthfully, the situation is a bold parallel to one you and your boyfriend have been in yourselves. chan ate the last of his girlfriend’s food, and is now receiving the silent treatment among other consequences. though, you’re different now, and your cheollie knows better than to mess with you or get you angry. sometimes, you think he’s actually scared of you when you’re mad. regardless, chan’s predicament makes you laugh, feeling relief that you don’t experience stuff like that anymore.

he eventually hangs up the phone, turning to you. “how familiar does that sound, hm?”

you hum, “it sure is similar to how we used to be, isn’t it?” he nods, “you wouldn’t do that to me now though, right?”

your expression turned serious, and he’s almost too quick to nod and kiss the clothed skin between your breasts in confirmation. “of course not, i’d never eat your food, baby. now, should i actually call his girlfriend, or..?” he trails off, now feeling almost as if he’s in trouble too, uncertain as to whether or not he should meddle in their issues.

you nod, shrugging. “go ahead, i don’t see why not.”

he nods, reopening his phone to search for chan’s girlfriend’s contact. once he finds it, he calls her and reluctantly relays the news. he reiterates as many times as possible that he’s on her side, agreeing that chan is wrong and he’s only relaying his ‘dying message’ they share a laugh, and she apologizes for dragging him into their mess. you say hello as well, laughing about the similarity together before the call ends.

he throws his phone to the other end of the bed, sighing as he finally relaxes into your skin again. “i’m so happy that’s over. i was scared as if i was the one who did something..”

you kiss his crown, his face hidden in your body. “you’d never, though. i trained you well, didn’t i?” you giggle, running a hand over his hair like you would to a pet.

he nods. “after that one time where you literally sent death threats, i nearly had a heart attack. and getting silent treatment? don’t even get me started, not talking to you for three days straight over a donut had me almost killing myself. i definitely know better than to fuck with you like that.” he goes on, already in a nervous ramble at the idea of receiving a punishment like that again. you may have been a little harsh, but that’s what happens when your girlfriend’s buttons get pushed. at least he’s better now, and isn’t making mistakes like his friend lee chan.

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

[jiminomenon]

it’s (not) my right to be hellish

pairing: ex-girlfriend! karina x female reader

tag(s): fluff, exes-to-lovers, second chance romance, jealous karina, a bit of angst, highschool au, karina being down bad as usual

word count: 4.2k

warning(s): alcohol consumption

summary: y/n and jimin were inseparable high school sweethearts, but when y/n asks for a break to figure things out, jimin is left heartbroken and confused. despite her frustration, jimin tries to win y/n back with small gestures, but y/n remains distant. things take a turn when a charming new student, starts getting close to y/n, doing all the things jimin used to do—walking her to class, bringing her food, and even partnering with her for projects. jimin’s jealousy grows as she watches y/n and minho grow closer, and she becomes desperate to prove that she’s the one y/n truly belongs with.

y/n and jimin had been inseparable for as long as anyone could remember. their story began in the hallways of their high school, two years ago, when y/n was a shy transfer student and jimin was the confident, popular girl who seemed to have it all.

it was during a rainy afternoon in their sophomore year when their paths first crossed. y/n had been struggling to find her way to the library, her map soaked and nearly illegible. jimin, ever the savior, had noticed her from across the hallway and approached with an umbrella in hand.

"you look lost," jimin had said, her voice warm and teasing. "need a guide?"

y/n had looked up, startled, only to be met with jimin’s bright smile and sharp, honey-brown eyes. she had stammered out a response, her cheeks flushing as jimin laughed and offered to walk her to the library. that was the beginning of everything.

from that day on, jimin made it her mission to be y/n’s personal tour guide, showing her around the school, introducing her to friends, and even helping her with homework. it didn’t take long for y/n to realize that jimin’s kindness wasn’t just for show—she genuinely cared. and it didn’t take long for jimin to realize that y/n was different from anyone she’d ever met. quiet but witty, reserved but fiercely loyal, y/n had a way of making jimin feel seen in a way no one else ever had.

their friendship blossomed quickly, filled with late-night study sessions, shared lunches, and endless laughter. but it wasn’t until the school’s minjeong formal that things shifted between them. jimin had asked y/n to go with her as friends, but by the end of the night, they were slow-dancing under the twinkling lights, their faces inches apart.

"you’re kind of amazing, you know that?" jimin had whispered, her breath warm against y/n’s cheek.

y/n had laughed, her heart racing. "says the girl who literally has a fan club."

"yeah, but none of them are you," jimin had replied, her voice soft but sincere.

that was the moment y/n knew she was falling for her. and when jimin leaned in to kiss her, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

their relationship had been a whirlwind ever since. jimin was the kind of girlfriend who would show up at y/n’s house at 2 a.m. just because she missed her, who would leave little notes in y/n’s locker with doodles and inside jokes, who would defend her fiercely if anyone dared to say a word against her. she was loud, bold, and unapologetically herself, and y/n loved her for it.

but jimin was also intense. she had a tendency to be possessive, always wanting to know where y/n was, who she was with, and what she was doing. at first, y/n found it endearing—proof of how much jimin cared. but over time, it started to feel suffocating. jimin’s love was all-consuming, and while y/n adored her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was losing herself in the process.

it didn’t help that jimin had a habit of making decisions for both of them without consulting y/n. whether it was planning their weekends or choosing their classes for the next semester, jimin always took the lead, assuming y/n would go along with it. and y/n did, because she didn’t want to disappoint her. but the more she gave in, the more she felt like she was fading into the background of her own life.

the breaking point came one evening after school, when jimin had announced that she’d signed them up for a weekend trip with her friends without asking y/n first. "it’s going to be so much fun," jimin had said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "you’ll love it."

but y/n didn’t love it. she didn’t want to spend her only free weekend surrounded by jimin’s friends, pretending to be okay when she wasn’t. she wanted time to herself, to breathe, to think. and that was when she realized something had to change.

the rooftop was quiet, the usual hum of the school day replaced by the soft rustle of the evening breeze. y/n stood near the edge, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared out at the fading sunset. behind her, jimin leaned against the railing, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.

"so, what’s up?" jimin asked, her tone casual but laced with curiosity. "you’ve been acting weird all day."

y/n took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. this was it. the moment she’d been dreading but knew she couldn’t avoid any longer. "jimin," she began, her voice steady but soft. "we need to talk."

jimin’s brow furrowed, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "okay... about what?"

y/n turned to face her, her hands clenched at her sides. "i think... i think we need a break."

the words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. for a moment, jimin just stared at her, her expression blank. then, slowly, her confusion turned to disbelief. "a break?" she repeated, her voice rising. "what are you talking about?"

"i just... i need some time to think," y/n said, her voice firm but calm. "everything feels so overwhelming right now. school, family, us... i need space."

jimin let out a short, incredulous laugh. "space? from me? what the hell does that even mean?"

"it means i need time to figure things out on my own," y/n said, her patience already wearing thin. "it’s not about you, jimin. it’s about me."

"bullshit," jimin snapped, her frustration boiling over. "if it’s not about me, then why are you pushing me away? we’ve been through everything together, y/n. why can’t we figure this out together?"

"because i can’t!" y/n shot back, her voice rising now. "i can’t think straight when i’m constantly worrying about us, about you. i need to focus on myself for once."

jimin took a step closer, her eyes blazing. "so, what? you’re just giving up on us? on everything we’ve built?"

"i’m not giving up," y/n said, her voice firm. "i’m just asking for time. is that so hard to understand?"

"yes, it is!" jimin exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. "you’re not making any sense, y/n. if something’s wrong, we fix it. we don’t just take a *break*."

"you’re not listening to me," y/n said, her voice cold now. "i’m not asking for your permission, jimin. i’m telling you what i need."

jimin stared at her, her chest heaving as she tried to process what was happening. "this is ridiculous," she muttered, running a hand through her hair. "you’re being ridiculous."

y/n’s jaw tightened, her patience finally snapping. "i’m done with this conversation," she said, turning on her heel and heading for the rooftop door.

"y/n, wait!" jimin called after her, but y/n didn’t stop. she couldn’t. not when jimin was refusing to listen, refusing to understand.

jimin watched as y/n disappeared through the door, her frustration bubbling over into anger. she kicked the railing, the metal clanging loudly in the quiet evening air. "this is such bullshit," she muttered to herself, pacing back and forth.

but as the anger began to fade, it was replaced by something else—something colder, sharper. determination. if y/n thought she could just walk away, she had another thing coming. jimin wasn’t about to let this go without a fight.

the next day at school, jimin was a woman on a mission. she had spent the entire night replaying the rooftop conversation in her head, and one thing was clear: she wasn’t about to let y/n go without a fight. if y/n needed space, fine. but jimin was going to make sure that space was filled with reminders of how much she cared.

her first move was subtle. she arrived at school early and slipped a note into y/n’s locker. it was short and sweet, written in her messy handwriting: thinking of you. - jimin. she even added a little heart at the end, something she rarely did. as she walked away, she couldn’t help but smirk. y/n would have to appreciate that.

but when y/n opened her locker later that morning, she barely glanced at the note before crumpling it up and tossing it into the trash. jimin, who had been watching from a distance, felt her heart sink. okay, so maybe subtle wasn’t the way to go.

"so, let me get this straight," yizhuo said, leaning back in her chair as she stared at jimin across the cafeteria table. "you’re trying to win y/n back by... leaving her notes?"

"yes," jimin said, her tone defensive. "what’s wrong with that?"

"nothing, if you were in middle school," yizhuo replied, earning a snort from minjeong, who was sitting next to her.

"hey, it’s a start," jimin argued, crossing her arms. "i’m trying to show her i care."

"by leaving her notes that she probably didn’t even read?" minjeong chimed in, raising an eyebrow. "face it, jimin. you’re going to have to step up your game if you want y/n back."

jimin groaned, running a hand through her hair. "what am i supposed to do, then? she won’t even talk to me."

"maybe you should try talking to her instead of leaving cryptic notes," aeri suggested, her tone calm but pointed. "you know, like a normal person."

jimin glared at her friends, but deep down, she knew they were right. if she wanted y/n back, she was going to have to do more than leave notes in her locker. she was going to have to fight for her.

her next attempt was more direct. after school, she waited by y/n’s classroom, leaning casually against the wall as students filed out. when y/n finally appeared, jimin pushed off the wall and fell into step beside her.

"hey," jimin said, her tone casual but her heart racing. "need a ride home?"

y/n didn’t even look at her. "no, thanks," she said, her voice flat.

"come on, it’s raining," jimin pressed, gesturing to the downpour outside. "you’ll get soaked."

"i’ll be fine," y/n said, pulling her hood up and stepping out into the rain.

jimin watched her go, frustration bubbling up inside her. "stubborn," she muttered under her breath. but she wasn’t about to give up.

the next day, jimin decided to go all out. she showed up at school with a bouquet of y/n’s favorite flowers—white lilies—and waited for her by the entrance. when y/n arrived, jimin stepped in front of her, holding out the flowers with a hopeful smile.

"for you," jimin said, her voice soft but confident.

y/n stared at the flowers, then at jimin, her expression unreadable. "jimin, what are you doing?"

"trying to win you back," jimin said, her tone earnest. "i know i messed up, y/n. but i’m not giving up on us."

y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping. "jimin, i told you—"

"i know what you told me," jimin interrupted, her voice firm. "but i’m not going to just sit back and let you walk away. not without a fight."

y/n looked at her for a long moment, then shook her head. "i can’t do this right now," she said, stepping around jimin and walking into the school.

jimin stood there, the flowers still in her hands, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. but as she watched y/n disappear into the crowd, she felt that familiar determination flare up again. she wasn’t done. not even close.

later that day, jimin found herself sitting on the floor of yizhuo’s bedroom, surrounded by her friends. minjeong was scrolling through her phone, aeri was sketching in her notebook, and yizhuo was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

"so, let me get this straight," yizhuo said, breaking the silence. "you tried to win y/n back with flowers, and she just... walked away?"

"yes," jimin said, her tone defensive. "what’s wrong with flowers?"

"nothing, if you’re in a drama," yizhuo replied, earning a laugh from minjeong.

"maybe you’re trying too hard," aeri suggested, not looking up from her sketchbook. "y/n doesn’t seem like the type to be won over by grand gestures."

"then what am i supposed to do?" jimin asked, her frustration evident. "i can’t just do nothing."

"maybe you should give her some space," minjeong said, finally looking up from her phone. "you know, like she asked."

jimin groaned, leaning back against the bed. "i don’t know how to do that."

"clearly," yizhuo muttered, earning a glare from jimin.

the next few days were a blur of failed attempts. jimin tried everything—leaving y/n’s favorite snacks on her desk, offering to help her with homework, even flirting with her in public. but no matter what she did, y/n remained distant, her walls firmly in place.

it wasn’t until the new student, minho, transferred to their school that jimin realized just how much trouble she was in. minho was tall, handsome, and charming, and from the moment he stepped into the classroom, all eyes were on him. including y/n’s.

jimin watched as minho introduced himself to the class, his smile easy and confident. when he took the seat next to y/n, jimin felt her stomach drop. this was bad. really bad.

jimin had always been observant. it was one of the things y/n used to love about her—how jimin would notice the little things, like when y/n was having a bad day or when she needed a pick-me-up. but now, that same observant nature was driving jimin crazy.

ever since minho had transferred to their school, jimin couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to be everywhere y/n was. it started small—minho walking y/n to her classes, carrying her books, and even offering her snacks from his lunch. things that jimin used to do. things that were supposed to be her things.

at first, jimin tried to brush it off. so what if minho was being friendly? it didn’t mean anything. but then, it escalated.

walking to class

jimin was on her way to her next class when she spotted y/n and minho walking down the hallway together. minho was laughing at something y/n had said, his hand lightly brushing her arm as they walked. jimin felt her stomach twist.

"since when does she let him walk her to class?" jimin muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing as she watched them disappear around the corner.

she couldn’t help but remember the first time she’d walked y/n to class. it had been raining, and y/n had forgotten her umbrella. jimin had swooped in, offering to share hers, and y/n had smiled at her in a way that made jimin’s heart skip a beat. now, minho was the one making y/n smile, and jimin hated it.

lunch time

jimin was sitting with yizhuo, minjeong, and aeri in the cafeteria when she noticed minho sitting with y/n at a table across the room. he was handing her a container of food, his smile wide and genuine.

"is that... sushi?" jimin asked, her voice tight as she stared at them.

"looks like it," yizhuo said, following jimin’s gaze. "why? you jealous?"

"no," jimin snapped, though her clenched fists said otherwise. "i just... i used to bring her sushi. it’s her favorite."

"well, looks like minho knows that too," minjeong said, her tone teasing.

jimin glared at her friends, but her attention was quickly drawn back to y/n and minho. y/n was laughing at something minho had said, her eyes crinkling in that way jimin loved. it was the same laugh jimin used to elicit, and now minho was the one causing it.

driving her home

after school, jimin was waiting by her car, hoping to catch y/n and offer her a ride home. but when y/n finally appeared, minho was right beside her, his car keys dangling from his fingers.

"need a ride?" minho asked, his tone casual but his smile knowing.

"actually, i—" y/n started, but jimin cut her off.

"i can drive you," jimin said, stepping forward. "like i always do."

y/n hesitated, glancing between jimin and minho. "it’s okay, jimin. minho already offered."

jimin felt like she’d been punched in the gut. "since when do you let him drive you home?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

"since now," y/n said, her tone firm. "thanks anyway, jimin."

and with that, y/n climbed into minho’s car, leaving jimin standing there, her hands clenched at her sides.

group projects

the final straw came during class, when their teacher announced a group project. "pair up with your usual partners," the teacher said, and jimin immediately turned to y/n, expecting her to do the same.

but before jimin could say anything, minho was already sliding his desk next to y/n’s. "partners?" he asked, his smile easy and confident.

y/n hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "sure."

jimin felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her. "what about me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

y/n glanced at her, her expression apologetic but firm. "i think it’s better if we work with other people this time.

jimin stared at her, her heart pounding in her chest. this was supposed to be their thing. they always worked together. always. but now, y/n was choosing minho over her, and jimin didn’t know how to handle.

a party was hosted by one of the seniors, a popular guy named jaehyun who was known for throwing the best parties in school. it was the kind of event everyone talked about for weeks, and invitations were highly coveted. jimin hadn’t planned on going—she wasn’t in the mood for loud music and crowded rooms—but yizhuo had insisted.

"you’ve been moping around for weeks," yizhuo had said, her tone firm. "you need to get out of the house and have some fun. who knows? maybe y/n will be there."

jimin had rolled her eyes at the time, but the thought of seeing y/n had lingered in the back of her mind. so, when minjeong and aeri had shown up at her door that evening, dressed to impress and ready to go, jimin had reluctantly agreed.

"fine," she had said, grabbing her jacket. "but if this turns into a disaster, i’m blaming all of you."

"noted," minjeong had replied with a grin. "now let’s go before we miss the good snacks."

the party was in full swing by the time they arrived, the bass from the music thumping through the walls and the air thick with the smell of sweat and cheap alcohol. jimin had been drinking for hours, her frustration and jealousy bubbling over with every sip. she had come to the party with yizhuo, minjeong, and aeri, hoping to distract herself from the mess that was her life. but then y/n walked in—with minho.

jimin’s heart dropped the moment she saw them. y/n looked stunning, as always, her laughter ringing out as minho leaned down to whisper something in her ear. jimin felt her stomach twist, her grip tightening around the red plastic cup in her hand.

"you okay?" yizhuo asked, her voice cutting through the noise. she had been watching jimin all night, her concern growing with every drink jimin downed.

"i’m fine," jimin muttered, her eyes never leaving y/n and minho. "just peachy."

yizhuo followed her gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line. "you know, maybe you should just talk to her. sober."

"i’ve tried talking to her," jimin snapped, her voice rising. "she doesn’t listen. she’s too busy with him."

before yizhuo could respond, jimin was on her feet, her cup abandoned on the table as she made her way across the room. her vision was slightly blurry, her steps unsteady, but her determination was unwavering. she wasn’t going to let y/n walk away from her again. not without a fight.

y/n was standing by the snack table, laughing at something minho had said, when jimin appeared in front of her. her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glassy, and her words slurred as she spoke.

"what are you doing with him?" jimin demanded, her voice loud enough to make a few heads turn.

y/n blinked, her smile fading. "jimin? are you drunk?"

"maybe," jimin said, crossing her arms. "but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re here with him."

minho raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "is there a problem?"

"yes, there’s a problem," jimin snapped, her frustration boiling over. "you’re always around her, doing all the things i used to do. walking her to class, bringing her food, driving her home—now you’re here with her at a party? what’s next, huh? are you going to start holding her hand too? kissing her?"

"jimin," y/n said, her voice sharp. "stop it."

"no, i’m not going to stop," jimin said, her voice rising. "you don’t get to just replace me, y/n. i was there for you when no one else was. i was the one who made you laugh, who held you when you were sad, who loved you more than anything. and now you’re just... what? throwing that all away for him?"

y/n stared at her, her expression a mix of shock and frustration. "jimin, you’re being ridiculous."

"am i?" jimin shot back, her voice cracking. "because it sure feels like you’re forgetting everything we had. everything i did for you. and for what? so you can play house with some guy who doesn’t even know you like i do?"

the room had gone quiet, the music fading into the background as everyone turned to watch the scene unfold. y/n’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but before she could respond, jimin took a step closer, her voice softening.

"i love you, y/n," jimin said, her words slurred but sincere. "i love you so much, and it kills me to see you with him. please, just... come back to me."

y/n stared at her, her heart pounding in her chest. she had missed jimin more than she cared to admit, and seeing her like this—vulnerable, desperate, and completely honest—made it impossible to stay strong.

"jimin," y/n said, her voice soft but firm. "you’re drunk."

"so what if i am?" jimin said, her voice breaking. "it doesn’t change how i feel. i love you, y/n. i always have, and i always will."

y/n hesitated for a moment, then grabbed jimin’s hand and pulled her away from the crowd. "come on," she said, her tone firm. "we’re not doing this here."

jimin stumbled after her, her heart racing as y/n led her through the house and out into the backyard. the cool night air hit her face, sobering her up just enough to realize where they were. the backyard was quiet, the noise of the party muffled by the walls of the house. the only light came from the moon, casting a soft glow over the grass.

"what are we doing out here?" jimin asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"we’re talking," y/n said, her tone firm but gentle. "without an audience."

jimin stared at her, her heart pounding in her chest. "so talk."

y/n took a deep breath, her hands still holding jimin’s. "i missed you too, you idiot," she said, her voice soft but sincere. "but you have to understand—i needed space. i needed to figure things out on my own."

"and did you?" jimin asked, her voice trembling. "figure things out?"

y/n hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "i did. and i realized that no matter how much space i take, i always come back to you."

jimin’s heart skipped a beat. "what are you saying?"

"i’m saying that i love you, jimin," y/n said, her voice firm but gentle. "and i’m not going anywhere."

jimin stared at her, her heart swelling with hope. "does this mean...?"

"it means we’re going to figure it out," y/n said, her voice firm but gentle. "together."

and then she kissed her.

it was soft and sweet, a kiss filled with all the words they hadn’t been able to say. jimin’s hands found their way to y/n’s waist, pulling her closer as she kissed her back. it was everything she had been missing, everything she had been fighting for.

when they finally pulled apart, jimin’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide with shock. "what was that for?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"to shut you up," y/n said, her lips curling into a small smile. "and because i missed you too, you idiot."

jimin smiled, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks. "i like the sound of that."

as the noise of the party faded into the background, jimin realized that sometimes, love wasn’t about holding on too tight—it was about knowing when to let go, and trusting that the person you loved would find their way back to you.

[sidneywasfound]

DOLCE | Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader x Lando Norris

SUMMARY; Franco cheated on her. Regretful, he looks for her. She is making a new life, taking revenge for Franco's actions,Knowing exactly how to get on his nerve, and he didn't know with who she would begin this new facet of her life.

WARNINGS; ANGST with a Fluffy ending!, Franco being a dick,Franco cheating,Crying,suggestive themes,talks and mentions of sex but not actual smut,Bad English writing English is not My first lenguage,Song quotes with original lyrics and translation. a little bit of SMAU, not My Best work so be kind

WORD COUNT; 1.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE; Firstt i wanted to thank you all for your support!! Seriously i love you all ♡ and second, This fic is inspired on DOLCE by Cazzu i've been listening to this song in loop all the day so yeah

Now playing...DOLCE by Cazzu

You remember it as if it were the first time,That warm kiss that Franco gave you every time you arrived,Only this time you were leaving."Speak up and pray if whatever you are about to say is a damn excuse." You said picking up your bag from the floor facing the open the door."i'm sorry...I was drunk and I didn't tell you because-" You shut the door right on his face and with tears in your eyes you walked towards your car.

He didn't even tell you, it happened three months ago, and he didn't tell you?. You opened your phone seeing the photo of him kissing that girl, that girl who said she was just a friend, you even liked her posts and she liked yours.

3 months later...

"I'm better than ever" You said looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror, on the counter there was some nail polish and makeup.You sighed and went to your closet,Searching through your dresses you saw a dark red silk fabric highlighting between them, you slowly pulled it out but when you saw the whole piece you quickly threw it back into the closet,a knot formed in your throat and tears didn't wait to fall

"This damn dress..." You didn't even know if that phrase would help you feel better,Franco said it that same night, where he took you to his hotel room and delicately undressed you while repeating that pharse.'This damn dress...'

Your breathing was fast, you quickly grabbed your black tube dress and closed the closet

You went out in that dress, you were going to a club for your friend's birthday so nothing too exagerated. Sitting at the bar you watched your still cocktail on the table,The music made the liquid vibrate a little 'why do i bother in trying?' You said to yourself. You got up and when you turned around you crashed into someone."s-shit... i'm sorry i didn't-" When you look up you saw no one else but Lando Norris himself, how embarrasing you tought, In addition to being hurt by your breakup, you just crashed into Lando

"oh no. Shit how embarrasing!" You covered your face slightly as he laughed. "Don't worry, it was my mistake." You already knew each other, Franco introduced you two,sometimes you greeted each other in the paddock, is Nice to see him for the last time

"Are You ok...?" He said putting his hand on your shoulder, your breathing was laborated and your eyes crystallized."yes shit...I just need some fresh air" He quickly grabbed your arm and guide you all over the place to the exit, where the breeze of air hit you and relaxed your whole body."Thanks..." You said still holding on to his arm

"Someone did something to you?" Lando said grabbing your waist "what? Oh nonono, i'm just a little bit tired..."You said fixing your dress."I think I should go back, my friend is waiting for me..." you said turning towards the door making Lando grab you again."You're not going anywhere like this." Your way of walking was clumsy and you were still holding your dizzy head with your hand.

You sat on the sidewalk and covered your face as you burst into tears,Lando opened his eyes wide and sat beside you putting an arm on your shoulder."what- what's wrong?" He said nervously.

"it's just-" You said as your voice your trembled,honestly you hated seeing how people on Twitter supported Franco 'I'm sure she cheated first' or 'i would've done the same cause she is prettier' or just any bullshit justifying Franco's actions. But you kept quiet, you saw how THAT girl said that there were no broken hearts, that she was just a new girlfriend, not a lover.

And though you didn't want to make any statements for the media, you had reached a limit, a limit that hurt you like a stab in your chest, carrying all the weight and guilt on your back. You just wanted to spit out all your hatred and let off all your steam.

"I'm tired of pretending everything is okay when it clearly isn't!" You said with rage,Your tears fell down your cheeks while Lando pulled you into a hug,pressing your face on his chest.

"is this because of...Franco?" Unable to speak through crying, you nodded."Why don't we go home? We can forget about that dickhead..." Lando said trying to cheer you up, you nodded as he stood up putting his coat around your shoulders.

That night Lando took you in his car to his house, the two of you stayed curled up in his bed looking at the large window that illuminated the room with the moonlight. They stared at each other as you caressed his cheek, without any remorse he pulled you into a warm kiss.

2 months later...

"Te creí,y yo no doy más de una oportunidad"

"I believed you,And I don't give more than one chance "

You looked at your phone and saw how he now acted innocent now, pretending and saying that I was aware of this 'extracurricular' relationship. You looked at yourself in the large mirror and started putting on your makeup, your playlist started playing in the background, A guitar rhythm reached your ears as you continued to look at yourself in the mirror, DOLCE by cazzu began to play.

"Ojalá te dure eso de aparentar. Mujeres bonitas ninguna real"

"I hope this 'pretending' lasts for you. Pretty women, none real"

You remember those afternoons watching the sunset while you cuddle with him tangled in a blanket. How you did sacrifice thousands of opportunities to be with him, leave your country to travel with him for the season.

"Como Yo, que contigo estaba a morir y a matar"

"like me,that for you i was willing to die and kill"

And you saw how she didn't even bother to go see him race,she only posted something if he reaches podium and then just photos on a yacht with him. You actually expected him to realize that you were there from the beginning. And it is better for him to know that if he ever looks for that support from his partner, he won't find it.

"Dudo que una así te vuelvas a encontrar

me voy pero antes me voy a vengar."

"I doubt you'll ever meet a girl like me again

I'm leaving but first I'm going to take revenge"

You headed to your closet to pull out the soft, fine, dark red silk fabric that was sticking out from between the dresses and gave it a Big glance to appreciate it. You wore that dress when you met Franco at an event, it was the dress that made him fall in love with you. You dropped your clothes, leaving you in your underwear, to start putting on the dress.Today was the FIA awards, and you would accompany Lando, to Hard launch your relationship. And why not show off that beautiful DOLCE & GABBANA dress to show him what he's missing? You were having the best time ever, Lando was kind and good, you loved everything about him.

A Besides, it was to be expected that a proud guy like Lando would love to make everyone know that you were his, that he would be getting that dress out of you that night, and he loved knowing that Franco would be mad and jelous. You were waiting for him to come in his luxury sports car and get you, you already felt the sweet taste of revenge on your tongue

You took a big breath as you grabbed your purse,Fluffy dark red coat and fixed your hair before going out.

"yo también sé cómo portarme mal...

y se bien que hacer para hacerte llorar"

"I also know how to misbehave...

and i know exactly what to do to make You cry"

You sighed and turned off the lights in your house, put away your makeup and tidied everything.You sighed nervously and looked at yourself in the mirror for the last time thinking 'This is what he deserves for being a dick...'Reoste And you grabbed your cell phone, turning off the music to put it in your purse, without forgetting to listen another line of the song

"a ver si aprendes a valorar..."

"to see if you learn to value me..."

You smiled and put it in your purse, You heard a horn and went fastly to the door. And there it was, Lando Norris right in front of You "Fuck...You are gorgeous." He said putting a hand on your waist and kissing you,You smiled and walked towards his car."don't get to cocky tonight Norris!" You scoffed getting into the as he laughed."i can't help when i know that this idiot is going to be wanting you all night long" He said getting into the car and putting a hand on your to squeeze your thigh.

When they arrived at the place, the paparazzis started taking pictures of you two like crazy, Lando grabbed you by the waist and posed with you."it's going to be a long night..." It was impossible to ignore Franco's gaze on you all night, especially when Lando noticed it and started kissing you or putting an arm around you. Although it was too funny to see him like that while his girlfriend didn't even notice.

"I really hope that everyone who calls him Casanova or a Flirt realize what an idiot he is, do You think the dates he took me on were his idea?, but of course not!, Do you really think a man like him is a casanova when I had to teach him how to basically have a girlfriend?, I don't believe it...I don't believe it." You said confessing for the first time your thoughts on the situation in a interview after keeping quiet for so long."I hope you know there's a little bit of me in every single part of that person and every time that person does something nice I want you to think, 'Did that really come completely from him?'." You laughed."And now that i'm in a very healthy relationship with my boyfriend i understood how toxic was it when i was with this person...but i really hope he is happy now! and I wish him the best of luck, no hard feelings!".

"se te olvidó que lo que sabes te lo enseñé yo"

"You forgot that I taught you what you know"

[ms-awesome52]

Pariah tanks the punch that was going to be the last he wasn't going to see coming. He turned his attention to his assailant and sees the halfa who defeated him last time, but something's different. He's not wearing the exo-suit he had last time, and after a quick scan of the area, he confirmed that the kid's allies aren't around. The dark king didn't get to know the kid well, but he was sure that his defeator wouldn't fight him at a disadvantage like this willingly. He pushed the kid away so he could sense the condition of his core.

There's a command bond. Some loonatic summoned and trapped the young halfa and is making him fight, or else that bond shatters his core.

Pariah may not be a kind king. He's a selfish dictator who wishes to control both the realm of the living and the dead. But there are some things that no one will get away with, somethings that will convince his goal on the backburner so he can make them right. One of which is risking the core of a ghost, especially a young one who earned his respect on the battlefield. He had to make this fast.

Danny flew back toward the king as the battle continued. The bond on his core not tightening as long as they're locked in battle.

"Who did this to you?" Pariah asked, pulling his punches a bit so the kid is able to answer him.

"Why do you care?"

"You earned my respect last time we fought young one. I'm not going to let someone get away with doing this to you"

This made Danny stop fighting for a second, only for him to wince and clutch his chest. Pariah realized what was happening, and he started fighting again. This time, to protect the protector, not that Phantom knew that yet.

"Now I ask again, who is making you fight me with such a severe disadvantage like this"

".....it was the guys who are currently fighting fright knight"

"And dying to my hand is preferable to being trapped with them?"

"I already live with people who will never see ghosts as anything but mindless fighting machines. But at least I'm able to run away if staying with them ever becomes dangerous. But I refuse to be trapped in a circle with costumed assholes who share those opinions. Permi-death is better than that existance. And you'll probably be less painful than the bond shattering me, so...."

Phantom laughed to himself, well more of a small chuckle, "What's funny is that if they just treated me like a person and asked, I would have gotten the suit and fought you for real."

"Are you really going to let me take over the living world after I finish you?"

"Of course not. I already notified Plasmus and the others, and they'll defeat you. I'm just minimizing the damage you can do until they get here."

"Clever."

Superman was listening to the exchange and was horrified at the realization of what they've done. The protector they summoned was practically committing suicide because he didn't want to be trapped by them. The kid, oh god, it's an actual kid, was going to be destroyed because of them. The horror of what they've done quickly shifted to fear for his own life as the king glared at him.

Pariah Dark turned back to the halfa, "I accept that I'm likely going to lose to your friends. They're not going to fight me in a one-on-one like you did when you defeated me, but I'll probably going to lose to them as a team. But as they're preparing, I'm not going to let you die. We need a rematch as equals one day."

Danny was stunned silent and stopped fighting only for Pariah to reach into his chest and snap the bond. Relief flooded Danny's body, and he passed out. The dark king caught the limp kid and ordered his Fright Knight to him. As he gently handed the young protector to his knight, two white rings formed around his body, tuning him human.

"Take Phantom to the Far Frozen to heal, then return to my keep. Some information has come to light, and it is likely that my conquest will have to continue another day."

Fright Knight was confused but complied. After he left for the Far Frozen, Pariah turned to the colorful idiots. It was time to have a chat with them about command bonds and how they treated his future successor.

Vaguely inspired by that one post where Danny gets summoned by the JL and keeps throwing his shoes and stuff at them bc HE might not be able to leave the summoning circle but his clothes sure can!

I think the twist for that was that the circle doesnt effect him at all because hes a halfa and he was just goofing with the JL.

But imagine if the summoning and containment WORKED.

Like, he gets summoned and its startling, but once he realizes hes been summoned hes mostly annoyed.

Its a school night! He has work to do! Sure he wasnt DOING it, but it was still a possibility!

And hes trying to banter with the JL. Which for him just means being vaguely-obnoxious-but-somewhat-charming.

But then he tries to leave.

Maybe hes worried about his friends reaction to seeing him disappear.

Maybe the JL are saying some anti ghost/demon/whatever they think he is nonsense.

Maybe he changed his mind about doing that homework.

But either way, it doesnt work.

He drags his hand along the edge of the spell. It doesnt give, and he realizes hes not sure what this spell is supposed to do.

Its all along the floor beneth him, he cant fly through the floor.

He tries to get away from the walls and floor, worried whatever spell makes up the container can be triggered to hurt him or brainwash him or SOMETHING.

Its not his best guest, but he has never been summoned before, at least not with this type of barrier, and he doesnt know what to expect.

He barely gets a few feet off the ground when he hits the spells invisible roof.

And he is trapped.

And now this fourteen year old child is caged in a room with clearly dangerous adult strangers.

After hes been more or less kidnapped.

He’s suddenly regretting insulting them.

And its not his first time beimg kidnapped. Or his first time being in danger in general (obviously).

but its usually some ghost! Or Vlad “Loser, I hardly know her!” Masters!

Both of whom explain literally everything they plan in long ass evil monologues! It usually takes danny five minutes tops to learn their entire life story Dr Doofenshmirtz style!

He knows most of them personally! They hang out sometimes! Heck! even the local ghost hunters are either literally related to him or someone he’s dated!

He knows their powersets, their strengths, their weaknesses.

Most importantly, he knows their goals

But now hes trapped. In a room of clearly superpowerd strangers. With magical abilities strong enough to trap him for real.

And has no idea what they want

And Danny just freezes up

This could be super angsty if the JL were told that he was evil and think his panic + young features are only done to manipulate them.

You can also add angst with a language barrier/translation issue

I imagine the JL would be trying to get information about ghosts/ are trying to get someone to fight a villain they can’t defeat

Its going to scare the shit out of Danny either way- like imagine fourteen year old you gets kidnapped by strangers and they start asking you about your weaknesses or say they will only let you out if you agree to fight this monster.

And if Danny doesnt know this villain or how tf hes going to fight them he might feel like hes being sent off to get his ass kicked.

I can just imagine Danny being told he has to fight this supervillain and being like “…if i like..die…trying to fight this guy…what are you going to do with my body? Like will you send me home? Cause my family will freak if my corpse is teleported into the living room”

JL would not be happy about any of his responses.

Im begging someone to write this please have a nice day

[zhelin-thames]

Hi! I absolutely adore your stories!! 💖💖💖💖 I don't know if you are taking requests (idk if this counts as one or not) but could you possibly make a part 2 of Tiny Baby Ghost?? It was so funny and cute!!

Heres part 2. I'm open for any requests, including different crossovers(ill only write them if i know the shows tho).

read part 1, part 3 is also out

Danny floated out of Pariah’s hand with a sigh, brushing green ectoplasm off his suit. “Okay, everyone just… chill for two seconds. No smiting, no world-ending threats, no awkward death stares.” He turned to Pariah and Fright Knight. “Dad, Sir Glowstick, I’ve got this.”

Pariah scowled but crossed his massive arms, radiating reluctance. Fright Knight gave a sharp, reluctant nod, fading back into the shadows. Pariah, however, loomed protectively behind Danny like a vengeful thundercloud, making the Batkids visibly tense.

Danny turned to Constantine, his hands on his hips. “Alright, magic man, what’s the ‘big emergency’? Why’d you summon me, specifically?”

Constantine, cigarette now burned down to the filter, pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re dealing with a dimensional tear. Nasty bit of magic, ancient stuff. Needs a Ghost King’s touch to fix it before it swallows half the world.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “A tear? Like, between dimensions?”

“Yes,” Superman answered, his voice calm. “It’s growing larger every hour. We believed the Ghost King would be the only one capable of sealing it.”

Danny groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “I’m not the Ghost King. I’m not even remotely qualified for this. Did you not read the fine print on your summoning ritual?”

“You were summoned by name,” Wonder Woman pointed out. “Surely there is a reason the ritual chose you.”

“Yeah, the reason is: the universe loves torturing me,” Danny muttered. He began pacing, muttering under his breath. “Okay, think… dimensional tear, ghost powers… I’ve done that before, sorta…”

Jason, leaning against a table with his arms crossed, snorted. “So, what, Casper? You’re just gonna wing it?”

Danny stopped pacing and glared at him. “Do you have a better idea, Red Hood? What’re you gonna do, shoot the dimensional tear?”

“Couldn’t hurt to try,” Jason shot back, smirking. “Who knows, maybe the bullet’s haunted.”

“Is he always like this?” Danny asked, gesturing at Jason.

“Yes,” Damian said flatly. “And he’s right—your incompetence hardly inspires confidence.”

“Okay, first of all,” Danny snapped, pointing at Damian, “I’m not incompetent. Second, you’re one to talk, kid ninja.”

Damian bristled, stepping forward. “Do you truly believe you could intimidate me, ghost child?”

Danny blinked, then smirked. “Oh, I don’t need to intimidate you.” He snapped his fingers, and his ectoplasmic energy surged, making Damian’s cape float dramatically behind him. The youngest Wayne’s eyes widened before he quickly turned to look at his cape, trying to snatch it down.

Jason doubled over laughing. “That’s perfect! Oh man, I think I like you, kid.”

“Enough,” Batman growled, cutting through the banter. “If you know how to fix the dimensional tear, we need to act now.”

Danny sighed. “Fine. I’ll try something. But no promises this works, because I am not the king.”

“You keep saying that,” Nightwing said, tilting his head. “If you’re not the king, why does the summoning work for you?”

Danny hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at Pariah, who was watching silently, his expression unreadable. “Because technically…” Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m… uh… kinda the ‘heir.’ Sorta. By accident.”

Jason whistled. “You’re the heir to the Ghost King? That’s hilarious.”

“It’s not hilarious!” Danny snapped, throwing his hands in the air. “It’s a massive headache!”

“You have no idea how hard it is to get through high school when random cults keep summoning you to fix their magical problems!” Danny continued. “And now I’ve got Batdad over here grilling me like I’m some supervillain, and Red Riding Hood cracking jokes, and Damian ‘Stabby McSword’ Wayne calling me incompetent! I’m doing my best, okay?”

Jason tried and failed to suppress a laugh at “Stabby McSword,” while Damian’s scowl deepened.

Danny huffed, spinning back to Constantine. “Where’s this tear? Show me, and I’ll try to patch it up. But I’m not promising anything. And when this is over, you’re sending me back home. I’ve got a chem test tomorrow.”

Constantine muttered something about “teenagers” and gestured, summoning a glowing portal. “This way, then.”

Later, at the dimensional tear:

The tear was massive, swirling with chaotic energy that sent Danny’s ectoplasm buzzing uncomfortably. He floated closer, squinting at it. “Oh yeah, this is bad. Super bad. But… I think I can close it. Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Batman asked, his voice sharp.

“Well, unless someone else here has experience closing portals between dimensions,” Danny shot back, “I’m your best shot.”

Damian stepped forward, his expression skeptical. “And if you fail?”

“Then we all die,” Danny said bluntly. “So how about you zip it and let me work, okay, Junior Ninja?”

Jason snickered in the background. “Man, I hope he sticks around. This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”

Danny ignored the bickering Batkids, focusing his energy. With a deep breath, he reached out toward the tear, letting his ghost core resonate with the chaotic energy. The others watched in tense silence as ectoplasmic tendrils extended from his hands, wrapping around the edges of the tear.

“It’s… working,” Constantine muttered, his eyes wide.

Danny gritted his teeth, sweat forming on his brow as the tear began to shrink. “Just… a little more…”

With one final surge of energy, the tear sealed shut, leaving behind only a faint green shimmer. Danny staggered back, panting. “There. Done. Crisis averted.”

Superman smiled. “You did well, Danny.”

Danny waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t call me again unless it’s an actual emergency. I’ve got enough stress in my life.”

Damian stepped forward, arms crossed. “You were adequate. Barely.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks, mini-Batman.”

Jason clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re alright, kid. If you ever want to ditch Ghost Dad and hang out, give me a call.”

“Pass,” Danny said dryly, rubbing his temple. “I think one Jason Todd is enough for the multiverse.”

[bloatedandalone04]

Just Us Three

Summary: Yours and Jake’s son gets in trouble at school, and then Jake gets in trouble at home when he tries to hide it from you. (part 2 of this fic).

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: fluff, swearing, dilf jake, smut, angst if you squint, mentions of bullying, unprotected sex, dirty talk, protective jake.

Jake was still in his khaki uniform as he expertly manoeuvred his way through the halls of the school his son attends, similar to the way he skillfully moves in the sky. As his boots hit the granite tiles, he gave a nod to the school janitor, and the man half nodded, half waved back as he mopped the floor outside the bathrooms. 

He didn’t blame the guy for the lack-luster greeting one bit. Jake couldn’t imagine the horrors the poor lad had seen just today, let alone this week. And it was only Wednesday. 

Jake looked down at his watch and saw that it was quarter after three, and he was supposed to be at work for another few hours, but here he was. He was lucky he had such an understanding, albeit fed up, boss. 

When he rounded the corner and entered the school’s office, he was met with the kind smile that belonged to Miss Sands, the usually nice lady who sits behind the front desk. But that smile faded pretty quickly once she realized who had just walked in. “He’s in there,” she told him, pointing at the door that was just behind the desk, and that was all she said. 

“Thank you,” Jake said like it was part of his routine at this point. He walked past the desk and stood in the doorway, and he was greeted by an almost comically unimpressed look from the school’s principal, Mr. Harris. Jake held back a laugh, because this really wasn’t a funny moment, and raised his hand in a wave. “Hey…Mr. Harris.”

The principal raised his brow and looked over at the chair that was in front of his desk. “Mr. Seresin,” he stated, his tone flat and just…completely unfriendly. “Care to explain to me as to why your son is once again sitting in front of me?” 

Jake looked over as well, his green eyes meeting his son’s matching ones. “Hey, bud,” he mumbled, his brows furrowing a bit at the embarrassed look JJ had on his face. Jake cleared his throat and crossed his arms, looking back at the principal. “I don’t know, Mr. Harris. You’re the one who called me while I was at work.”

Mr. Harris pressed his lips into a thin line. “This is the second time I’ve had to call you this week,”

Jake clenched his jaw as he leaned against the door frame. “I’m aware,” he muttered. “This is also the second time I’ve had to leave work early this week.”

“Well, you are on the top of JJ’s contact list,” Harris said, crossing his arms as well. “Would you prefer I call your wife instead next time?” 

Jake tensed up at that, and he shook his head. “No,” 

The last thing he wanted was for you to get called out of work, and he knew you’d make it a much bigger deal than he does. Honestly, Jake didn’t want you to know about the multitude of calls he’s gotten from JJ’s school this month, because he knew it was mainly his fault. 

JJ had been having problems with a couple other kids in his grade, and Jake, being the protective father he discovered he is, told his five year old to stand up for himself and to not be afraid to speak his mind. 

Well…it turns out that JJ’s mind can be pretty…colorful, for lack of better words, and it’s gotten him in trouble more than once. This was probably the fifth or sixth time this month, and although Jake knew he needed to set some better boundaries here, he was also kind of annoyed. What about the other kids’ parents? Why can’t they teach their kids to not pick on his? JJ was taking Jake’s advice every time he had a problem with the other boys, and it seemed to be more often than not, yet clearly nothing was being done about the other kids. 

“Just keep calling me,” Jake muttered, rubbing at his forehead before stepping further into the office so he could stand next to JJ’s chair. “Or better yet, save me a trip and call the other kids’ parents. I know JJ’s got a…big mouth sometimes, but I also know it’s not just him. It’s the other boys in his class as well.”

Mr. Harris sighed and placed his hands on the surface of his desk. “Mr. Seresin, I’m aware of the comments the other boys have been making, but your son used language we don’t tolerate here,” he said, looking up at Jake expectantly. “Something needs to be done.”

Jake scoffed and moved to stand behind his son now, bracing his hands on the back of his chair as he leaned over. “Really?” he drawled, “What did he say?” 

Harris sighed and looked at JJ, and Jake quickly covered the five year olds ears - as if he wasn’t about to have what he said repeated back to his father. “He said ‘leave me alone you stupid…pussy’ to another kid on the playground,” he informed Jake, an embarrassed grimace on his face. “That kind of language is unacceptable here at school, Mr. Seresin.”

Jake stayed completely still, his hands still covering JJ’s ears as he processed what was just said. His kid said that? Where did he even learn that word? Jake doesn’t even use that word unless he’s…oh. 

Unless he’s pounding you into the bed he’s shared with you for the last eight years.

Well, fuck. 

Jake nodded after that and dropped his hands to JJ’s shoulders, giving his son a gentle squeeze. “Okay. Understandable. I will have a talk with him tonight,” he said, gesturing for JJ to stand up. He took his school bag from him and guided him towards the door of the office, but paused before he left. “But you need to do something about the kids that are picking on him, otherwise we’re gonna keep having problems.” 

Harris had the audacity to look offended at that, but Jake didn’t care as he took JJ’s hand and led him out to the parking lot. After he helped him into the backseat, Jake braced one hand above the door frame as he tried to think of what to say to his usually sweet son. “Listen, bud,” he started, glancing around the parking lot as a sigh left his lips. “What you said today, you can’t say that…word, okay? You’re too little to use those kinds of words, alright?”

JJ shifted in his seat, similar to the way Jake writhes around whenever you and he get into arguments - the ones he had no chance at winning. “But you say it. Uncle Bradley says it too sometimes when he drives me to soccer practice,” he mumbled, his big green eyes so innocent looking as he gazed up at Jake. “And I hear you say it to mommy sometimes at night time.”

Jake’s face heated up as he rubbed at his eyes, and he knew he would yell at Bradley the next time he saw him at work. “Is this when you’re supposed to be in bed?” JJ didn’t answer, and Jake shook his head as he ruffled his son’s blond hair. “I say it because I’m an adult, bud. And you need to stop trying to spy on your mom and I, alright?” 

JJ nodded, his sweet mind still innocent and unsure. Jake nodded too, then looked down at the paper in his hand that explained why JJ had been called to the office today, and he winced when he imagined you reading it. 

“Speaking of mom,” he mumbled, looking back up from the paper. “She doesn’t find out about this. Okay?”

JJ smiled up at Jake and nodded excitedly, seemingly more than happy to have a secret that only he and his dad know, and that was good enough for Jake. 

Well, it would’ve been, but JJ seemed to have forgotten all about the deal as later that evening, at the dinner table no less, he said something that had Jake’s heart skipping a beat. “Mommy! Daddy was so cool when he picked me up from the office today,” he beamed, and you furrowed your brows as you set your fork down. 

“What are you talking about, babe?” you asked, and Jake reached for his glass of water as you glanced over at him. 

“At the principal’s office,” JJ explained, and Jake quickly shook his head. 

“J, let’s not talk about this now, okay? Mommy just made dinner and we’re-”

“But you were so cool!” JJ cut him off before turning back to you. “Daddy used his angry voice on Mr. Harris today, mommy.”

You raised a brow, your eyes flickering between Jake and Jake Junior as you leaned back in your chair. “Why were you in the principal’s office today?”

JJ deflated a bit at that as he reached for his fork. “I…said a bad word,”

Your eyes widened and you looked over at Jake quickly. “Honey-”

“Jake,” you cut him off just like JJ did as you sat up straight again. “Why didn’t you tell me that he got sent to the principal’s office today? And why didn’t they call me?”

“Because I’m first on his contact list,” Jake mumbled, “And he and I had decided that it wasn’t important enough for you to know.” he added, narrowing his eyes at JJ, who just gave him a cute smile. 

“Jake Seresin, you have our child hiding things from me?” you gasped, then quickly composed yourself. “What was the word?”

Jake shifted in his seat as he set the glass down and picked up his fork again, a damn near carbon copy of the way JJ became uneasy when he was in the hot seat in the truck earlier today. He really was his father’s son. “It’s not appropriate dinner talk. I’ll tell you after,”

-

“He said what?” you nearly yelled as Jake crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. “Our son said that? How does he even know that word? We don’t say that unless we’re…”

Jake grinned at you as he slowly nodded, then he was dodging the dish towel you were using to clean the counter when you threw it at him. 

“He definitely picked it up from you,” you muttered as you walked past him to start clearing the table. Jake followed you of course, and wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. “You and your dirty mouth. You’ve had it since before we even got together.”

Jake was instantly brought back to all the times he flirted shamelessly with you in an attempt to get you to go out with him, only for it to all be thrown back at him because you were not one of those girls who caved easily to guys like him. That’s what made him clean up his act and ask you out in more nicer ways, which then eventually led to him taking you out on the most perfect date both of you had ever been on, and now he’s married to you. 

“Well, Bradley’s been saying it too. You know how bad his road rage is, he has no filter, even when he takes J to his soccer games. And I can’t help the filthy things that come out of my mouth whenever I get you alone,” he defended himself, pressing his cheek against yours as he held you snugly against his body. “You’re just too damn sexy, baby.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him from cuddling you from behind, which Jake was happy about. Ever since you and he got together, he’s become obsessed with touching you in any way he could and holding you whenever he can. He just loved how perfectly you fit against his body, and he knew you loved it too, even if you complained about it sometimes. “Bradley is his uncle, he’s not with him all the time, so he has an excuse. You, my love, do not,” 

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, then trailed his nose along the shell of your ear. “You can’t be mad at me for this, honey. It’s not my fault the kid’s got big ears,” 

You laughed, picking up the plates before turning your head to look up at him. “I think it is your fault, dumbo,” you mumbled, and Jake gaped at you. 

“Be nice to me,” he whined, following after you like a lost puppy as you returned to the kitchen and began loading the dishwasher. “I’m so nice to you.”

Another laugh left your mouth. “You’re teaching our son to keep secrets from me,”

“Okay, that’s not fair,” he groaned, walking back out to the table so he could gather the glasses, JJ’s Spider-Man cup, and the cutlery. “I only told him that you didn’t need to know about it, not that I’d never tell you about it. I would’ve, just…a couple years from now.”

“Jake,” you scoffed, moving aside when he loaded the items into the dishwasher. “I’m his mother, I’m supposed to know these things too.” 

He turned to look at you, propping his hands on his hips once he closed the dishwasher. “And you would’ve known about this,”

You crossed your arms and raised one of your brows. “In a couple years from now?”

Jake grinned, “See, I knew you’d understand,” 

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, dodging his hand when he reached out and tried to pull you into his arms. “I’m going to go get him in the bath. Then you and I are going to talk more once he’s in bed.”

You sounded serious, and you looked serious, but Jake’s smile only grew, because he knew he’d be able to change the topic real quick once you and he retired to your room for the night. Easily. 

-

“Oh yeah,” he murmured as he kissed all along your shoulders, his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans and sliding the zipper down. “You and I are really talking a lot.”

You groaned, trailing your fingers through his hair gently before giving it a firm tug, making him moan against your skin. “You are so annoying,” you muttered, but your words weren’t hostile at all. 

Jake grinned against your skin as he pulled the denim off your legs. His heart was beating fast in his chest, because even after eight years with you, you still made him feel so fucking giddy and he was so in love with you. And he always will be. 

Nothing had changed, with the exception and addition of JJ. You were still the sarcastic yet sweet girl he fell head over heels for, and you were all his. “You love me,” Jake mumbled against your neck as he slid his hand inside your panties, his fingers instantly finding your clit. “You married me…you’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, the horror,” you said back, then moaned next to his ear when he slid his index and middle fingers inside you, and the sound went directly to his cock. “Fuck. Jake.”

He hummed as he lifted his head, his green eyes staring into yours as he leaned in and pressed his forehead against your own. “Mm, I love you,” he mumbled, sliding his fingers in and out of you. “I love you so much.”

You whimpered, tangling your hands in his hair as you guided his lips to yours in a deep kiss. “I love you too,” you mumbled against his mouth as he pulled his fingers out of you. He sat back on his knees and brought his hand up to his lips to taste you as he watched you kick off your panties, his eyes raking up and down your body as he moaned around his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he grunted, unzipping his uniform pants and shoving them down his legs, along with his boxers. He was out of his shirt before you were, and he took it upon himself to rid you of both your tank top and bra, leaving you bare beneath him and only further proving his words. 

You grinned up at him, shifting on the bed as you beckoned him closer with a curl of your finger. “You’re sexy,” you say back, wrapping your legs around his waist when he crawls back on top of you. “Even when I’m still mad at you for trying to get our son to hide something from me.”

Jake groaned, burying his face in your neck as he guided the tip of his cock through your folds. “Don’t hold that against me, honey, I was just trying to protect you, that’s all. I don’t want you to stress out over nothing,” he mumbled, then groaned again when he slid inside of you. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Such a tight-”

You reached up and placed your hand over his mouth, your eyes boring into his as he stilled. “Until you can figure out how to soundproof our room, you need to keep your dirty words to yourself, baby,” you said, and Jake grunted against your palm. 

You wanted him to be quiet while he is fucking you? Did you not know how good you felt and how damn near impossible it was for him to not tell you that? Yours and his sex life was full of dirty talk, and it always had been, how was he supposed to just…stop?

He was going to have to figure it out, because the alternative was sex in the truck or no sex at all, and the latter was something he was not about to agree to. 

“I’ll be quiet,” he muttered when you pulled your hand away, and his own gripped your hips as he started to slowly pull out of you. “But that means you need to be quiet too, which will probably be a lot harder for you to do.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Harder for me? Please, Jake, I can be quiet too-” but a loud gasp left your mouth as soon as he buried himself back inside of you, and Jake just smirked down at the dirty look you gave him. “Fair enough.”

“Uh huh,” he mumbled then leaned down to kiss you as he started to thrust in and out of your additive body. He swallowed your sweet moans he loved hearing, each one sounding more and more desperate as Jake fucked you slow and deep, just like how he knew you liked it. 

When he felt you tighten around him, he pulled away from your lips and buried his face against the side of your neck, his left hand coming up to cover your mouth as he rutted into you. “I love you,” he groaned against your neck when he felt you cum around him, and a few seconds later, he was there too. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders when he stilled his body and eased himself gently on top of you, cradling you in his arms as he pressed soft kisses against your neck. “I love you too,” you said back, running your fingers through his messy hair. “I love both my boys so much. And I want to know when he’s being picked on or having trouble in class, okay? We’re a team, you know that, right? You, me and J.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, lifting his head and pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “I know we are. We’re the perfect team. I promise, I’ll tell you about it the next time he gets in trouble at school, okay?”

You raise your brow as you pull back to look up at him. “You make it sound like he gets into trouble all the time,” 

Jake grinned down at you, “Come on, babe. He is my kid after all. Trouble is in his blood,” he said back and then cut off your laugh when he leaned in and kissed you again.

[starmocha]

ok so I know we're all taken in by colonel caleb and his complexity and i'm enjoying all the smut (🙏🏻💕) but i'm looking at him and thinking about how he'd react if mc got pregnant 'cause in ny head he'd react like I think sylus would as in he'd shower her in kisses while crying but imagine him being scared of holding the baby because of his arm, terrified of hurting that tiny being but the second he holds them the fear goes away and he's planting kisses on the top of the baby's head 🥹😭

CRYING. SOBBING. YEARNING. Anon, if you've been around my blog long enough, I have mentioned numerous times how my 3-part Caleb breeding kink (and pregnancy) series will happen. With the recent revelation about his arm, I was reflecting on how to tackle this series with regards to Caleb's character. I hope his future memories will also deal with this more, so we can get a better understanding of the changes and his own mental state regarding it.

omg ok we all probably know by now I am weak to the Caleb thoughts, so...so...just a little snippet. Just a tiny short snippet...

Sweet Little You

She was safe. They were safe.

Caleb watched with relief as you slept peacefully, exhausted after the grueling 34 hours of labor. He had dedicated his whole life to keeping you safe, protect you from dangers and prevent you from ever feeling pain, but in those long, slow hours, he had felt so utterly helpless as he watched you braved through the tribulations of motherhood.

He knew you were strong, knew that you were more than capable, but it did not deter his innate desire to shelter you.

It had only been a few hours since the baby was born, he realized, as his large hand rested on your head, gently smoothing your hair. He could still see your tears, heard you crying as you poured all of your strength into delivering his baby. You had gripped his hand so tightly, and though that right hand of his could no longer feel anything, his heart still did, torn apart at every scream, every sob that passed your lips. He did his best to encourage you, reassured you that everything was going well, that soon you both would meet your little one.

He wasn’t sure if what he had said helped or not, but you had still held his hand, holding tight to him just like long ago when you two were little. Maybe you still needed him, still wanting to lean on him like you used to.

He bent down and placed a soft kiss on your temple. “Thank you, my darling.”

Caleb’s ears perked up, hearing the sudden quiet fussing of his newborn. He looked to the hospital bassinet placed close to your bed. The baby was starting to stir, waking up from a peaceful slumber.

He quickly moved closer, his paternal instinct kicking in. He bent down lower, his voice softer than normal. “Hey, hey there, little one,” he said, about to reach down for the baby, but he paused, worried.

The baby’s face scrunched up, its cries still soft, but steadily growing just a bit louder. Panic briefly passed Caleb’s features, suddenly unsure of his own ability as a father. He could hear you stirring behind him, but he didn’t want you to wake yet, knowing you still needed more rest. He pushed down his own feeling of anxiety, and he bent down again, gently scooping the baby up.

The baby was so small, he couldn’t help but think, being able to hold the baby within his two hands. He readjusted his hold, cradling the baby within his arms, and his heart felt like it was slowing in time, his breathing almost stilling entirely as it finally seemed to clicked in his mind that he was holding his baby. This little baby, conceived from the love between you and him, was now here, in his arms, and he could barely stifle the sob that almost wanted to escape, his heart suddenly overwhelmed with so many different emotions ranging from disbelief to amazement and finally profound, unconditional love.

The baby’s cries ceased, replaced by soft cooing, and Caleb let out a breathless laughter, his earlier anxiety slowly receding. He still wondered about his capability, but more than that, he wondered how it was possible to love someone you had just met. When his eyes drifted up, settling over your sleeping form, he almost laughed again, realizing he had never found the answer to that question, having always been a willing victim of “love at first sight.”

He shifted his gaze back down to the tiny baby in his arms, his lips resting over the infant’s forehead, the sweet scent of the newborn filling his nostrils, and a warmth unlike anything he had ever felt before filled his chest.

“Welcome to the world, my little one,” he whispered, “We’ve been waiting for you.”

[shiftinganddaydreaming]

Nah, cause why was one post telling people that shifting isn't meant for everyone. Like everyone has the power to shift so no wrong. We can all shift.

Idk I just tend to ignore advice post & stuff like that now because, all I need is sheer willpower (I just smoked some pot with Loki & asked really nicely with some more offerings. He definitely showed me shifting first tho so)

Methods never worked for me, all the water in the world didn't help. Music, scripting, channeling, & such helped me feel closer. Honestly it was more important to me to feel connected to my DR then actually shifting. Once my DR felt like my CR (bcuz there isn't much difference) that was when I knew it was only a matter of time.

Aphantasia & ADHD didn't stop me

Obsessing over shifting & making a million scripts didn't stop me

Just one night I went to bed & woke up in a reality that wasn't my DR but still amazing. Tbh, I think just enjoying the journey is important. Haven't shifted to your DR, don't worry, you will. Just keep enjoying them edits of your S/O & imaging how it'll feel to have your desired closet.

Idk I am not an expert. I am just some girl who stumbled upon shifting, enjoyed the journey maybe a bit too much, 4 years later I shifted for the first time, was amazing but now it's just like not as fun now that I can do it.

Do you know how much work being a singer is? How scary Nomus actually are?

I think if it stops being fun, or you feel drained, then it's best to just take a second & find something fun. Shifting should be a happy experience. The toxic stuff is just so unnecessary tbh, rules are so limiting when, in other realities, you could literally do magic.

I know everyone likes to think that shiftblr is significantly better than shiftok but it's slowly starting to become the same with the recycled advice and judgmental mindsets. Every single advice post is the exact same with the exact same rude "it's your fault you haven't shifted" vibe to it. Which, especially for mentally ill and neurodivergent people is extremely harmful and does nothing but make them feel worthless and like they'll never shift. It's not difficult to be kind, and if it is for you then don't make content that people will listen to.

[jezebelblues]

𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 | 𝐇.𝐒 ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐘𝐍 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭.

𝐂𝐖: requested exrry blurb (thank u anon!), slight angst, happy ending, fem!reader, actress!reader, unedited.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: approx 5k

❏ HI ! it’s been such a long time :( but i’m hoping i’m finally through with writers block. i feel like this doesn’t exactlyyyy fit anon’s request but i hope u liked it even a lil bit! i’m not 100% happy w this but i really wanna get something out so this will just have to suffice. missed yall <3

masterlist

there are moments in every love story when the world rearranges itself, tilts just enough to change the course of everything. it's the way a cigarette burns unevenly when the wind interferes, how a misplaced step shifts the dancer's rhythm, or the way a train leaves the station one minute too soon. for harry and YN, their love had been both a symphony and a storm, a masterpiece constructed on fragile scaffolding. in its final act, it had unraveled quietly, with only the sound of two hearts breaking in unison.

they hadn’t spoken in two years. two years of silences punctuated only by the occasional headline, the brush of a photo on a magazine rack, his voice threading through the speakers of a café. the world, it seemed, refused to let her forget him. but there he was now, not a photograph or a memory, but him. real, palpable, standing at the edge of her periphery like a ghost who hadn’t yet decided if it would haunt her or let her go.

YN leaned against the balustrade, clutching a glass of something that tasted more sour than it should have. the event itself was a haze of champagne flutes and low conversations, an industry soirée dripping in muted opulence. her dress was a deep shade of dusk, clinging to her like a second skin, and she felt beautiful in it—had felt beautiful in it—until she saw him.

harry was dressed as he always was: an effortless mosaic of contradictions. the suit was tailored to perfection, but his hair, unruly curls with the hint of rebellion, softened the sharp edges. there was no mistaking the tilt of his head, the way his eyes skimmed the room with an almost reluctant ease. she wondered if he’d seen her yet, if he’d feel that same quiet thrum in his chest when he did.

as if on cue, his eyes met hers.

the evening wasn’t designed for heartache. the sky, opalescent and blushing, rippled with the soft hues of twilight. lights strung through the manicured gardens of the estate flickered like fireflies caught in some eternal dance, glasses catching the shimmer like constellations in orbit. laughter rippled through the space, every corner alive with movement and conversation, yet harry could feel only the staccato of his pulse, sharp and relentless.

he wasn't supposed to see her tonight. it wasn't part of the plan—then again, plans were always shaky things when it came to them, built on the hope that tomorrow wouldn't bring a gust strong enough to dismantle it all.

it wasn’t a moment of cinematic epiphany. there was no gasp, no clinking glass slipping from trembling fingers. it was quieter than that, heavier. their eyes had met, and the weight of two years folded between them like a tide coming in—inevitable, undeniable.

his gaze dropped to her hands, searching for a ring, as though her life might have accelerated in the time since they'd parted. nothing. his chest tightened with something unnamable—relief? regret? both?

the last time they’d been in the same room, the air had been filled with shouting and static. their words had ricocheted off walls that had once heard laughter. they had been too much and not enough, two meteors colliding, destroying everything they touched in their desperate attempt to remain whole.

she loved him. god, how she had loved him. loves.

their love had been big. not in the way people tell stories about epic romances, but in the way it consumed everything around it. they fought like gods waging war. they loved like the first spring after a century of winter. they tore each other apart and put each other back together, over and over, until they couldn't remember what they had looked like before.

they stood like that for what felt like hours but must've been seconds, suspended in a quiet kind of agony. the people around them blurred into shapes, the air alive with the hum of champagne-fueled conversations and the laughter of people who had no concept of loss beyond the polite kind—misplaced keys, a delayed flight, the end of a film they'd rather not have finished. the only thing that seemed real was the chasm between them—filled with every moment they'd ever shared, every word spoken and unspoken, every touch and tear and promise.

he was walking toward her now. she could feel it in her chest before she saw it—the air shifting, the atoms around her realigning themselves to make room for his presence.

YN was radiant, in the way she always had been— light incarnate. her eyes, the same shade of longing he remembered, tried not to meet his own, but of course, they did. she's only human, and humans have always been drawn to the things that ruin them.

“YN.” he breathed when he was close enough, her name falling from his lips like a prayer he wasn’t sure he was allowed to utter.

“harry.” his name tasted unfamiliar on her tongue, like a word spoken in a foreign language after years of disuse.

there were too many things she wanted to say, too many memories fighting to rise to the surface. she remembered the way his hands had once mapped her skin like a cartographer desperate to chart every inch. she remembered mornings spent tangled in sheets, the sunlight spilling over their laughter. she remembered the fights, the nights spent in separate rooms, the echoes of their own voices loud in the spaces between them.

“you look—” he started, then stopped, as though the right words had slipped through his fingers.

“so do you.”

silence bloomed between them, heavy and awkward, like a third presence neither of them invited. she takes a sip of her drink to fill it, but the taste is sour, bitter. or maybe that's just her.

he couldn’t tell how long they just stood there. time had a way of folding in on itself since her, the days bleeding into nights, the minutes stretching and collapsing all at once. einstein once said time was relative, but harry was sure he hadn't meant this.

his lips parted, “i didn’t think you’d be here.”

“neither did i.”

the truth was, she almost hadn’t come. it was only her publicist’s insistence that had dragged her out of her apartment and into this room filled with people who didn’t really know her. but now, standing here in front of him, she wondered if some part of her had known—had hoped.

there was a question hanging in the air between them, not uttered, but loud enough to fill the silence. had they made a mistake?

he remembers how they agreed it was for the best—right person, wrong time. they'd parted with a kiss that tasted of salt and regret, a mutual agreement born not out of lack of love, but out of too much of it.

but how could it be for the best when the air at home still smelled like her, when her name was stitched into the fabric of every song he wrote? he thought of the way she used to rest her head against his chest at night, the way her fingers traced lazy patterns along his skin, as if she were memorizing him in braille. the intimacy of it—the quiet kind, the kind that felt like forever—had undone him. no one ever teaches you how to live without forever.

the first time they met, they were children pretending to be adults. a festival in the desert, both of them younger and wilder, sweat-soaked and sunburnt and drunk on music. they danced in a crowd of thousands, but it felt like the earth shrank to the size of a postage stamp, and they were the only two people left. he had kissed her that night, tequila and the promise of something infinite lingering on his tongue.

“i’ve missed you,” he admitted, so softly she almost didn’t hear it.

her heart stuttered, the words settling into the cracks she hadn’t known were still there. “me too.”

and just like that, the world rearranged itself again.

it had been three days, but the memory of her face still lingered on the edges of harry’s consciousness like the afterimage of a camera flash. no matter how many times he blinked, it refused to fade. he felt haunted—not in the dramatic sense of ghosts rattling chains, but in the quiet, insidious way grief lingers, reshaping the air around it. she had looked beautiful, devastatingly so. and when their eyes had met, he swore he felt time buckle under the weight of something he couldn’t acknowledge, not yet.

it was morning now, or what passed for it in january—a hesitant kind of light filtering through the clouds, pale and thin like it didn’t quite belong. harry sat at his kitchen table, a cup of tea cooling between his hands. the mug had been a gift from gemma years ago, the words world’s okayest brother faded from too many cycles through the dishwasher. he liked its imperfection, the way it felt worn and familiar. it reminded him of things that didn’t change, which was a comfort on days like these.

the newspapers were spread out in front of him, though he wasn’t reading them. his eyes kept drifting to the same headline over and over: YN stuns at charity gala, sparking reunion rumors. there was a picture, of course. she was outside, her dress a shadow clinging to her frame, her gaze distant and heavy with thoughts he couldn’t begin to guess at.

it was cruel, he thought, how the world always seemed to capture her in a way that felt so achingly intimate. even in the stillness of a photograph, she looked alive, as though she might step off the page and straight into his arms.

but she wouldn’t.

he hadn’t expected to see her, not after all this time. the last two years had been a lesson in avoidance—of places she might be, of mutual friends who still spoke her name with a fondness that made his chest ache. he had buried himself in work, in music, in anything that might fill the spaces she had left behind. and for a while, it had worked. or at least, it had felt like it did.

until three days ago.

“you’re brooding.”

the voice startled him, and he looked up to find jeff standing in the doorway, a coffee cup in one hand and a knowing look in the other.

“morning to you, too,” harry muttered, running a hand through his hair.

he raised an eyebrow. “you’ve been staring at that paper for the better part of an hour. do you want to talk about it, or should i just pretend i don’t notice?”

“not much to talk about, yeah?”

“uh-huh.” he set his coffee down and slid into the chair opposite him. “you saw her.”

“yeah.”

“and?”

harry sighed, “i dunno. s’like… seeing her again made everything i’ve been trying to forget just resurface. two fucking years of nothing and then—” he gestured vaguely, another sigh falling from his lips.

“you still care about her.”

“‘course i do,” harry said, almost sharply. “but that doesn’t mean it changes anything. timing wasn’t right—we missed out.”

jeff studied him for a moment, then leaned back in his chair. “you know, timing’s a funny thing. but things do change, harry. don’t lose something you never needed to lose in the first place.”

the words hit harder than harry wanted to admit. he didn’t respond, instead lifting his mug to his lips and taking a long sip.

the tea had gone cold.

–

the email arrived in the late afternoon, slipping into her inbox like an intruder she hadn’t invited. YN stared at the screen for a long time, her tea cooling on the windowsill beside her. she didn’t open it right away; instead, she just sat there, the glow of her laptop casting faint shadows on the walls of her living room.

harry’s name stared back at her, bold and impossible to ignore. two years of silence, and now this.

the day had started out quiet. she’d spent the morning working through a script, her highlighter uncapping and capping in time with the low hum of the music she had on in the background. a storm had rolled in sometime around noon, the sky turning the color of damp stone. she liked storms—their chaos, the way they reminded her of things bigger than herself.

she didn’t like this.

her thumb hovered over the trackpad, indecisive. opening the email felt like a betrayal of all the walls she’d built, but leaving it unread felt equally unbearable. the memory of seeing him at the gala, standing there like something carved out of memory and moonlight, tugged at her resolve.

so, she clicked.

subject: reaching out

from: hs@—

to: YN@—

i wasn’t sure if this was still your email. if it’s not, i guess someone else is reading this, which would be… awkward. but if it is you, then: hey.

i know it’s been a while. seeing you the other night caught me off guard. in a good way. you looked beautiful. not that that’s news or anything, but still. it felt worth saying.

i’ve been thinking about you. not in a way that expects anything, just thinking. like in the way you’re in the lyrics i write without thinking. or when i see a blank sheet of paper i think of the origami you’d make on a whim.

this probably sounds ridiculous. i don’t really know what i’m trying to say. maybe just that it was good to see you.

for old times sake: all my stars and moons,

H.

all my stars and moons.

he used to say it with a lopsided smile, his voice soft, reverent, like it was the only way he could capture what she meant to him.

it wasn't just an i love you—it was a promise, a vow that she had been his beginning and his end. her reply had always been equally unorthodox, a kind of shared language only they understood.

she read the email twice, then a third time, the words tumbling through her mind like loose change in a pocket.

it wasn’t much. it wasn’t an apology or an admission or even an invitation. but it was something—a crack in the silence, a thread pulled loose from fabric.

her fingers hovered over the keyboard, her mind a cacophony of what-ifs. she didn’t know what to say—didn’t know if she should say anything.

the cursor blinked at her, patient and unyielding. YN rested her chin in her hand, staring at the blank reply box as if it might conjure the words for her. the storm outside continued its symphony, wind rattling the windowpanes in uneven bursts. it felt fitting—this chaotic, uncertain moment mirrored by the world beyond her walls.

she had typed and deleted half a dozen responses already, each one feeling either too much or not enough.

harry, she’d started, but even his name felt loaded, like a weight she couldn’t quite lift.

it’s good to hear from you. no, too polite, too distant, too not them.

why now? the most honest question, but also the one she didn’t have the courage to ask outright.

she leaned back in her chair, exhaling sharply. part of her wanted to ignore it. to close her laptop, pour another cup of tea, and pretend she hadn’t read it. but that wasn’t who she was—not with him.

because no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much they had broken each other, there was still that small, stubborn part of her that believed in the rightness of them.

she let her fingers hover over the keyboard, her thoughts coalescing into something that felt almost like clarity.

harry,

it is still my email. though if it weren’t, i’d like to think whoever got this would’ve found it endearing.

i don’t know how to describe how it felt seeing you again. unexpected doesn’t feel like enough. i wasn’t ready for it, i guess. not that anyone’s ever really ready to run into their past like that. believe me when i say that you looked even more beautiful.

your email was nice to read, though i’m not sure how to respond to it. i don’t know if i have the right words anymore, or if i ever did. but i’ve been thinking about you too. i’m not sure that ever really stopped, if i’m honest. it’s strange, isn’t it? how someone can take up so much space in your mind, even after so much time has passed.

it’s hard to know what else to say. part of me wonders if we made a mistake. you’re making me remember paper cranes on your coffee table, of mornings where the sunlight always seemed brighter on your side of the bed. remembering makes it harder to pretend like none of it mattered.

but it did. it still does. in ways i can't always explain, and maybe that's why i don't know how to respond. anyway, i guess i just wanted to say that it was good to see you, too.

forever and a day,

YN.

her finger hovered over the send button, her heart hammering in her chest. there was no taking it back once it was gone, no undoing the vulnerability she had laid bare. but she clicked it anyway, the whoosh of the email sending ringing loud in the quiet of her apartment.

forever and a day.

it had been her answer to him, her way of telling him that love wasn't bound by time or space, that it was infinite. it had been their secret, the thread woven through the chaos of their lives.

she didn’t know what would come next. maybe nothing. maybe everything. so, she waited—which only let things unravel further.

the emails became their lifeline over the past few days, a tenuous thread bridging the gap between the past and whatever they were doing now. it had started cautiously—polite acknowledgments, carefully chosen words that skirted too close to old wounds. but as the hours and days wore on, their messages grew longer, softer, laced with the quiet intimacy of people rediscovering the shape of each other.

harry had spent more time staring at his screen than he cared to admit, his fingers hovering over the keys as he tried to balance honesty with restraint. they wrote about everything and nothing—her latest film, a quiet piece shot in the polish countryside, his afternoons spent in the studio, the strange emptiness of passing the time during a break.

sometimes, they slipped into the past. little anecdotes laced with humor or wistfulness, as though they were tiptoeing around the weight of what they’d once shared. he’d told her about the tulips he passed by in the shop one evening, how it made him think of her, if he’d ever buy such a thing for her again—and she’d replied with a teasing remark about how he’d always overthought these things.

it felt natural in a way neither of them had anticipated, like a rhythm they’d rediscovered without meaning to. but beneath the easy flow of words, there was a tension—an unspoken question threading its way through every sentence: what now?

and then, her last email.

he’d read it three times before he noticed the address tucked neatly at the bottom, like an afterthought.

subject: RE: late night thoughts

from: YN@—

to: hs@—

h,

i don’t know why i’m telling you this, but the tulips? i would’ve liked them :)

anyway, you’re right! it’s easier to write like this, but it also feels a bit ridiculous, doesn’t it? like we’re pen pals in some old novel. maybe we should talk.

here’s my address. i’ve moved since before everything happened between us. if you’re ever around, stop by. no pressure though.

YN

harry had laughed aloud when he saw it, shaking his head in disbelief. she hadn’t given him her number, but her address? it was such a maddeningly her thing to do.

he stared at the screen for a while afterward, debating what it meant, whether he should go, what he’d say if he did. and then, as if fate had decided for him, he found himself standing in another flower shop the next afternoon, staring at a display of tulips.

the shopkeeper had been kind, if a bit amused by his indecision. “you can’t go wrong with red,” she’d said, handing him a bunch wrapped in simple brown paper. “everyone likes red, yeah?”

he’d nodded, though his mind had been elsewhere, spiraling through a thousand scenarios of how this meeting might go.

and now, here he was, standing outside her building with the flowers clutched in one hand, his other hand shoved into the pocket of his coat.

he felt ridiculous. what was he doing here, showing up like this? but the thought of turning back felt worse. he buzzed her apartment, his heart pounding as he waited for her voice to crackle through the intercom.

“hello?”

“oh, YN. hi! it’s harry.”

a pause and the breathiest giggle, so quiet harry wasn’t sure if it was her or the crackle of the intercom. “come up.”

once up, she opened the door before he could knock, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of her apartment. she looked different and yet entirely the same—her hair pulled back, her sweater falling loosely over her frame, the kind of effortless beauty that had always undone him.

“hi.”

“hi,” he echoed, offering her a tentative smile.

she glanced at the tulips in his hand, her lips twitching into a small, knowing grin. “you brought flowers.”

“yeah,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “thought about daisies. or lilies. but tulips–”

“you overthought it.”

“probably,” he said, handing them to her. “but you said you would’ve liked them.”

she took the flowers, her fingers brushing his briefly. “i do.”

he hesitated, shifting on his feet. “you didn’t give me your number, but you gave me your address. thought that was funny.”

her laugh was soft, almost shy. “guess i figured if you wanted to talk, you’d show up.”

“and here i am.”

“here you are.”

she stepped aside, letting him in, her apartment warm and inviting in contrast to the chill outside. the space was a bit small but full of character—books stacked haphazardly on shelves, a record player in the corner, the faint scent of tea lingering in the air.

“s’bigger than the last one.”

she hummed, setting the tulips on the counter and reaching for a vase. “it’s cozy.”

he watched her move, his chest tightening at the familiarity of it all—the way she tilted her head when she was concentrating, the slight curve of her mouth as she arranged the flowers.

“i’m surprised you actually came over.”

“‘course i did,” he said, his gaze steady. “you asked.”

“i didn’t think you would.”

he frowned slightly, “oh,” he paused, “why not?”

she shrugged, turning back to the flowers. “it’s been a long time, i guess. people change.”

“how much d’you think changes in two years?”

her hands stilled, her fingers brushing against the edge of a petal. she didn’t look at him, but he could see the way her shoulders tensed, the way her breath caught.

“i don’t know what this is,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

“s’just us talking. that’s all.”

they settled at the island in her kitchen eventually, stools drawn close but not close enough. it wasn’t purposeful—not exactly—but the gap between them felt intentional in its own way, a hesitation they hadn’t yet learned how to breach.

the space was quiet, save for the soft hum of the rain outside and the faint creak of the wood beneath them. the overhead light pooled in warm, golden tones across the countertop, casting long shadows that blurred the edges of the moment.

YN fit into the space like she always did—carefully, like she was trying to take up less room than she was owed. one knee tucked against her chest, her arms wrapped loosely around it, while her other leg dangled from the stool, her toes brushing just lightly against the floor. she turned slightly, her side leaning against the edge of the island, her eyes steady but unreadable.

his own body had never been built for this kind of furniture—too long limbs, too much of him for the delicate frame of the stool. he had to spread his legs wide, one foot braced against the floor to keep himself steady, his elbows resting on the countertop. his fingers toyed with the lip of a glass left abandoned,something to keep them occupied, something to keep them from reaching for her.

and then she said it.

“you’ve written songs about me.”

a statement, not a question. a fact pulled from the quiet places of their past, dusted off and placed between them like an offering.

harry felt the heat climb his neck before he could stop it, the corners of his mouth betraying him with the telltale pull of a smile. a man of twenty-nine reduced to something pink-cheeked and bashful, like a schoolboy caught in the act. his dimples carved deep, his fingers tightening around the glass as if he could pour all of his flustered energy into the curve of it.

“see that head of yours hasn’t gotten any smaller.”

his voice came easy, light with humor, a well-aimed deflection meant to soften the truth. but the truth was written all over him, in the way his gaze lingered, in the way his body angled toward hers as if he couldn’t help but close the distance.

she laughed, and the sound curled into his chest, tucked itself between his ribs like something meant to live there. her cheeks had gone pink too, though whether from the warmth of the room or the warmth of his attention, he wasn’t sure.

she pressed her temple against her knee, a slow, knowing smile stretching across her lips before she murmured—“red wine and ginger ale.”

it was enough to knock the breath from him, to make something stir deep in his gut, something familiar, aching, unshakable.

his grip tightened around the glass, knuckles going white. because of course she remembered. of course she had caught that line, plucked it from the verse and turned it over in her palm like a rare coin.

it had been a memory—hers, theirs, tucked into the lyrics like a secret, hidden in plain sight.

a dinner in chiswick, years ago, where he had ordered exactly that, red wine with ginger ale, because he liked the way the bitterness and sweetness met on his tongue. she had looked at him like he’d just confessed to some great crime, her nose scrunching, her lips parting in that wide-eyed, incredulous way.

“you’re disgusting.”

he had laughed, offered her a sip, only for her to recoil in mock horror. and later, in the taxi home, when he had kissed her, her lips had curled into a smile against his, and she had whispered against his mouth—

“m’never letting you live it down, baby.”

and she hadn’t. for months. for years. because she had hated the drink, but she had loved him, and that was enough.

and now, here she was, saying it back to him, plucking the words from a song meant for millions and holding them up to the light, a knowing glint in her gaze.

“you remember that?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost disbelieving.

“i remember everything.”

the words settled in his stomach, warm and heavy. he stared at her for a long moment, the air between them stretching thin.

he could still taste the memory of her, even now. and he wonders if she knows she’s still his favorite lyric.

time continued to stretch around them, hesitated words and heavy pauses, stolen glances and knuckles that barely grazed each other in fleeting touches.

they moved after that, standing from the stools as if a forced step back would be enough space to stop what hummed between them.

she turned to face him, her eyes searching his. for a moment, the air felt electric, heavy with everything they weren’t saying.

she lingered there, before her body angled toward the window as though she might drift outside. the soft light overhead caught the lines of her face, the curve of her shoulders.

she was beautiful in the way the stars were—distant but unmistakably present, a quiet inevitability against the darkness.

and just like the stars, she had always been there, even when he couldn't see her.

he crossed the room slowly, as though afraid that the floor might give out beneath him. his hands were empty now, his thoughts stripped bare. she turned slightly as he came closer, her eyes meeting his, and he could feel the pull of her, the way she seemed to realign the very fabric of the air between them.

YN could feel it, the frequency only the two of them could hear, a static that crackles in the air between bodies too familiar to be strangers, too distant to be anything else. the static that translated into pins and needles along their lips. the static, buzzing heat in their chest, not fire, not yet—but the ember that never fully died, flickering in the place where love was buried but never truly laid to rest.

"you came back.” she echoed from before, though it was less saturated in disbelief but rather dripping with solace.

he looked up, his throat tightening—the ache of déjà vu wrapped in silk. his body remembers before his mind does—remembers the press of his palm against the small of her back, the weight of his mouth against hers, the way her breath used to tremble when she whispered his name.

you never left he wanted to say, but the syllables tangled in his throat, thick as honey, heavy as grief. because she hadn’t—not really. she lingered in each pause between heartbeats, in the empty quiet of rooms too big and beds too cold.

so, he keeps his mouth shut. he leans in, nose barely grazing hers. she can feel the flutter of his eyelashes against her cheek as his head tilts, he can feel the tremble of her breath.

he was merely a shipwreck, his body leaning toward the tide even as his mind screamed to stay ashore. but the tide is warm, and the tide is her, and oh—how easy it would be to drown again.

the collapse of distance, the death of restraint.

the air between them is thick with ruin and remembrance, a graveyard of every night they spent apart, every moment they spent pretending this wasn’t inevitable.

but the body is merciless in its remembering.

her breath stutters again as his fingertips ghost over her jaw, tracing the path of old devotion, the map of a love that never truly faded. it’s not a hesitation, not a question—it’s reverence, the final breath before a prayer is spoken. and then—

then he kisses her.

it’s not soft, not gentle. it’s every unsaid word, every agonizing hour, every night spent staring at the ceiling wondering if the she felt it too. it’s the pull of gravity, of fate, of something written into constellations.

his mouth slants over hers like a plea, like an apology, like a man succumbing. and she—she meets him with a hunger that borders on violent, fingers fisting in his collar, dragging him closer, closer, as if she could consume him, as if she could crawl inside his ribs and carve her name there all over again.

it tasted like champagne and ripe fruit, like summer bursting behind teeth and getting stuck there. peaches, maybe, or strawberries picked in the height of july. his tongue slid against hers like silk against satin, heady—red wine drunk too quickly, the dizzied sweetness of berries crushed between thumb and forefinger.

it didn’t seek, did not demand; it reclaimed, a vow remade in flesh.

his tongue curled, coaxed, tangled in the wet heat of her mouth. it was slow, decadent—the first pull of opium in the lungs, the hush of velvet being drawn through greedy fingers.

and when he deepened it—when he pulled her flush, let the kiss bleed into something savored, something syrup-thick, cursive against the roof of her mouth—she tasted it:

forgiveness, the hands of a clock rewinding.

not spoken, not granted, but exchanged in the language of tongue and teeth. of breath shared between gasps, of bodies rediscovering the art of belonging.

when they part, it is not for lack of wanting.

it’s for breath, for sanity, for the simple fear that if they do not stop now, they never will. she licked her lips—not to rid herself of him, but to commit him to memory.

"YN.” he murmured, her name nothing more than a breath, a vow, a benediction.

she swallowed, throat tight, her pulse a bird trapped beneath her skin. she wanted to say something, anything—wanted to capture this moment in words before it slipped through her fingers like sand.

but there was no language for this.

there was no word for what it meant to be kissed like that—like time had never moved forward, like they had never parted, like the years apart were nothing more than a cruel trick of the universe. no word for the way his tongue had found hers, the way he had kissed her not just with his lips, but with the sum of his longing, the marrow-deep ache of missing her. no word for the way she had melted into him, the way her mouth had answered his like it had been waiting all this time.

so she didn’t speak.

instead, she pressed her fingers against his mouth, feeling the shape of his lips beneath them, like trying to hold onto a dream before waking. and maybe he understood, because he only smiled—soft, knowing, his hands still firm against her skin.

all my stars and moons, he had said once.

forever and a day, she had answered.

[channiesbakery]

tiger plushies —

prompt / request — “oh my god if you buy one more plush to occupy my spot on the bed i'm kicking you out to sleep on the couch.”

pairing — reader + boyfriend!hoshi

word count — 594

genre — fluff, suggestive

author’s note — no bc i have way too many hoshi plushies (honestly just too many plushies in general) 😭

as soon as he arrived back home from tour, soonyoung went straight to your place, not bothering to go to his.

he hadn’t seen you in weeks so the only thing on his mind right now was seeing you.

the minute you open your door, he’s basically on you. his hands cup your cheeks, kissing you like he hadn’t seen you in years.

you can’t help but giggle against the kiss, finally able to pull away when soonyoung needed a breath.

“someone’s eager today,” you tease. “can you blame me? i haven’t seen you in weeks, honey,” he says, a slight whine in his voice as he kisses you again.

you make out on the couch for a bit before you pull away, leaning your forehead against his. “upstairs?” you ask. “upstairs,” he nods, automatically agreeing with you.

soonyoung is ready to push you into your bed when you step in until he sees what’s on your bed.

“babe,” he whines when he takes a look at your bed, seeing his half of it covered with plushies of various sizes.

“what?” you furrow your eyebrows at his whiny tone. “there’s no space for me,” he gives you an exaggerated pout. “i leave for two weeks and you replace me? giving my space away already?” he asks.

“well you were gone, they kept me company,” you tease. “I can’t believe you replaced me with plushies,” he sighs dramatically.

“babe, half of these came from you,” you remind him, watching as he grabs the dolls. “hey what are you doing?” you ask.

“taking back my space,” soonyoung grumbles, moving them to the top of a dresser. “okay fine, but leave tamtam. he’s my favorite,” you say and he just gapes at you.

“i’m right here! and you prefer tamtam?” he gasps and you just laugh at your boyfriend’s over dramatic reactions.

“don’t laugh,” he whines as you open your arms for him to join you on your now empty bed. “sorry baby, will a kiss make it better?” you tease, giving him a quick peck.

“gotta do better than that,” he says before quickly changing your positions, with his back against the headboard while you’re straddling his lap.

soonyoung wastes no time connecting your lips again, his kiss much more needy and hungry compared to your quick peck.

soonyoung breaks the kiss for a second but before you can complain, his lips are back on yours.

but when he breaks the kiss for the third time and you groan. “soonyoung what is it?” you ask, opening your eyes to see him peering over your shoulder to look at your counter.

“I can feel them staring,” he says, referring to the plush animals. “are you– babe, they’re stuffed toys,” you give him a look.

“tamtam is staring,” he says and you just sigh as he got out of bed, turning all the plushies to face the wall.

“can we get back to it now?” you ask as he climbs back into bed with you. “gladly,” he grins.

but it doesn’t last long before he stops kissing you again. “what now?” you groan. “nothing. just forgot to tell you something since i got here,” he says and you raise an eyebrow for him to continue.

“i love you. even though you replaced me with plushies while i was gone,” he huffs a little at the last part. “i love you too, soonie. but i may just love tamtam more,” you tease.

“okay that’s it. I’m taking tamtam back with me when i leave. i’m supposed to be your favorite tiger!”

[fanzou]

Un Bisou

✗ Pairing: Sanji Vinsmoke x Fem!Reader

✗ Summary: Though the cook himself is considered the most romantic amongst the crew, alone with you—he begs to differ.

✗ Total WC: 1.4K

✗ CW: SMUT, oral (Sanji receiving) lots off kisses (in unholy places as well), reader is discreet about her affection, no penetration, reader takes really care good care of Sanji *wink wink*

✗ A/N: My first work! Extremely excited, requests are now open.

Sanji absolutely adores you, and it’s certainly no secret.

You absolutely adore Sanji, but your love reveals itself in secret.

When the crew sails to a new island, you’re sure to have the blonde right next to you, never leaving your side. He keeps his slender fingers tugged into your softer ones. When he doesn’t have his hands in yours he’ll fit his arm snug into your waist. When he doesn’t have his arm around your waist, he’ll compensate by maybe putting it around your shoulder. Case in point; Sanji Vinsmoke needs every excuse to showcase to the world that you are his and his alone.

When you’re out to eat with the crew, make no mistake—Sanji has his arm snug around you once again, chairs pressed next to each other, and when he isn’t engaged in the conversation (in your presence, he almost never is) he’ll give your neck a little kiss, whisper an “I love you” and longingly gaze into your beautiful eyes.

“He’s worshipping her! Wow, is she lucky.” One woman whispers to the other, “Yeah, but she obviously doesn’t see it, she’s practically trying to get away from him,” the other continues in what you can only chalk up to be distaste towards you, “He’s drooling all over her and you can tell she doesn’t even care.”

“If I were her, I’d be all over that.” The two giggle at the comment together.

Your discomfort isn’t unnoticed by the blonde, your brows furrowed and a little tense.

“Don’t listen to them baby.” His hand glides down to caress your thigh before pulling you almost impossibly closer to him. The act itself made you blush but inevitably… It was true, although Sanji was known for his public displays of affection, you were the other side of the dynamic who didn’t reciprocate those same displays given how easily flustered you got, though you would grant Sanji access any given moment, it was almost embarrassing for you. Not because you were insecure, but it wasn’t something you deemed proper. You believed in having decorum and keeping a respectful image anywhere you went, even if you were a pirate—the fact still remained. Sanji worshipped the very ground you walked on, but his advances could be a bit overwhelming given the circumstances. Regardless, he relished in your embarrassment. He thought it was cute.

And it’s only because Sanji knows who you really are.

Sanji knew that the second you returned to the ship, the others still scoping out the island for any supplies they could gather for the next adventure. In the kitchen, you would be all over him.

You might act like you didn’t care for his little antics in public, but in private?

First, it started playfully. Giggling, you kiss his cheek, and then you’d bite it—and kiss it again. Then you’d move to his lips and give it a few pecks before hurriedly moving to his neck and absolutely ravishing it. You’d give Sanji’s neck a few licks here and there to which his own laughs and giggles started dying down and turned into breathy moans and a couple of curses. Yes, this is the woman he knew and loved. He’d put his hands on your hips and guide your lips back to his, only this time it wasn’t just pecks. You and Sanji started to sloppily make out while your hands skillfully unbuttoned his shirt. Once unbuttoned, you started feeling around his chest while simultaneously trying to fight for dominance on his lips. Your hands explored his chest, touching his nipples and then going lower and lower.

He moaned at the intimacy of it all, and subconsciously started humping against you. “You’re making me so fucking hard.” He manages to say in between kisses. At this, you put a halt to your little hot make out session and take his hand and guide him back to the girl’s quarters.

Obviously, Sanji preferred it over the men’s.

Once you arrived, you don’t hesitate to open the door and guide him to your bed, making sure it wasn’t Nami’s or Robin’s. (A mistake you’ll never make again after Nami almost murdered you both for it one time.) You quickly find Sanji’s lips again, while he sits on your bed with your thigh between his legs, again; grinding against you. You pull away from the kiss once again, and you can visibly see the disappointment in Sanji’s face. But you insist on taking your shirt off and getting on your knees in front of him, and his once disappointed face doesn’t seem so disappointed anymore.

He quickly tries to unbuckle his pants and slide them off but you don’t let him, taking your hands in his and slowly moving them to his sides, “Baby, let me do what I have to do.” You say as you look up at him with the most loving eyes, they reassure him that you know where you wanna take this, and how could he ever say no to you? He swears he could cum right then and there, to your gorgeous and pleading face, but he hasn’t even got to the best part.

You carefully take off his pants and glide them down to his ankles. Sanji expects you to reach up to the hem of his boxers and start pulling them down like he wants you to so eagerly, but instead you do something that makes him freeze in place. You pepper the outline of his shaft in little kisses while you’re looking at him. It was such a loving gesture, so loving and so caring. Had it not been for the context of the situation he was in, he would mistaken you for the purest angel of all.

“Please, my love,” he says breathless, “don’t tease me like that.” He could see the pre-cum forming a patch on his boxers at this point, and you moan at the sight.

Much to your dismay, Sanji takes it upon himself to finally pull his boxers down to meet his pants. His tip is almost burning red with pre-cum leaking all the way down to his balls. “Fuuuck.” You stare with furrowed eyebrows. All you can do in the moment is look at it in awe. Your cunt is pulsing like a heartbeat and you feel so hot. You try to find any friction by grinding into nothing, maybe hoping that your panties will create enough to emulate any kind. You want nothing more than to sit on it and go to town, but instead, you take it in your hands.

You bring his tip to your lips, “Those women,” *kiss* “were so wrong.” *kiss* You let your spit drizzle on his dick and start stroking him slowly while he looks down at you with the most lust-blown eyes ever.

“If only they knew how much I took care of you.” Then, to his very audible satisfaction, you take him in your mouth ‘til there was no more you could take, your head bobs up and down slowly, and you stop to kiss the side of his dick and then lick it. “They could… never… make you feel like this.” You take hold of his cock with your hand and viciously lick the underside of it’s head. “O-h my… F-Fuck… just like that.” Sanji’s chest is heaving, and he’s fighting the urge to collapse on the mattress and let you do your thing, but he just can’t take his eyes off of you. You’re so perfect. It’s insane. He can’t stop letting out breathless moans while you attack the most sensitive parts of him. His left hand is gripping the sheets of your bed while you make eye contact. The way your tears start to trickle down from your face, your chest plump and glossy with sweat while you’re bobbing your head on his cock is making him weaker and weaker.

You take him out of your mouth again and start to lick his balls while simultaneously stroking him, the whole scene was so very lewd. It was almost disgusting. But because it was you, he was so much more in love with you. You were so beautiful. He couldn’t stop saying your name, it was like it was all he knew.

“I’m gon-na fuck- I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum in your mouth.” He begs, and with his request, you take him in your mouth again, hands now fondling his balls and your tongue attacking his weak spots. He couldn’t take it anymore. He was about to pass out from pleasure, and when he did bust, your head was still bobbing, tongue still swirling. When you decided to take him out of your mouth under the impression that he was done, another string of white liquid hit your chin. Unfazed, you wipe it off with your finger and lick it off, ensuring that Sanji’s request was met. He loved you so, so much.

Sanji beckons you to climb on top of the bed and join him. He looks like he’s on cloud 9, and you can help but give him a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I love you, Sanji.” And then you lay your head on top of his shoulder. “I love you more.” He wraps his arms around you, like he always does and says, “I’m so glad you’re mine. Just mine.”

You raise your head up to look at him. “Yeah?”

He looks up at you with a crooked grin. You couldn’t help but admire the sexy expression painted on his face, “I wanna kiss you again, Sanji.”

“Be my guest.” He says, taking your chin in his hands.