#this ask warmed my heart i still think about it even when it was sitting in my inbox for a while

[itslenagain]

"You, there!" the regal voice calls down the hallway.

Shit. I'm toast.

Mother taught me three very important things about visiting Olympus - one, never reveal that I am a child of Zeus. Two, never steal anything from the Temple. And three, most important of all, NEVER allow my existence to be discovered by Hera.

And who but Hera, my unaware-but-still-somehow-wicked stepmother, would happen to be entering the hallway at the same time I attempted to duck into the kitchen for a late night snack.

"Why are you up at this hour?"

My mind races, searching for a way to escape. I'm surrounded by dead ends. I wonder briefly how severe my injuries would be if I attempted to jump out a window. My heart races as incoming footsteps signal my inevitable demise.

Except, when I turn my face to hers, I can tell that Hera has been crying.

She studies me for a moment. "Who are you?"

Shit. SHIT.

"I'm, ah, Eulalia," I lie. "New in town."

She continues to stare me down in suspicion. I'm so fucked. I have to think fast...

"Hera? Why are you up so late?"

She's briefly surprised by the question, but regains her composure quickly. "I was feeling snackish. It looks as though you were also headed to the kitchen." After a pause, she adds, "You may accompany me, if you wish."

I watch her face, and I am perplexed. I should run. I should get myself far away from Hera, as fast as I can. But instead, I find myself nodding gently. Something so achingly familiar to me hides behind her icy gaze.

She glides past me into the kitchen, gauzy green robe trailing softly behind her. I nervously grab a pear from the counter and sit at the small table.

"...is that it?" Hera says, raising an eyebrow. I blush. She sizes me up for a moment, and seems to come to some unspoken conclusion. "If you tell anyone about what I am about to show you, I will personally kill you." I swallow down the rising bile in my throat and let out a far-too-anxious laugh. She opens the refrigerator and reaches for something in the back. "Now, this is a snack worth getting out of bed for." She pulls out a container full of spinach and carrots and places it carefully on the table. She brushes her hands over the lid, and her eyes glow. When she takes off the lid...

"Melopita!" I exclaim. She looks at me sternly. My hands fly up to my mouth.

"Don't make me regret sharing." She cuts a generous slice and places it in front of me. I tear into the slice with a ferocity that rivals a lion hungrily taking down its prey. I hear her laugh. Her eyes are still puffy, but she looks... softer. Lighter, even.

She positions her knife to cut a small slice of the melopita, and this time, I am the one to shoot her a look. "Is that it?" I ask playfully. She moves the knife a little. "Oh, come on. Is that worth getting out of bed for?!" She moves it a little more and looks at me, eyebrow raised. She lets out a huff. She chucks the knife into the sink and grabs a spoon. "YES!" I cheer. She laughs again. The sound warms me to my core. I wonder how often she allows herself to be vulnerable in this way.

We sit for a moment in silence, enjoying the sweet treat. "So, what's your story?" She asks. I gulp. "Married? Kids? Anything?"

"Not married, no kids. As for the rest... Well, uh. I'm still figuring it out, honestly."

"Aren't we all," Hera sighs. She looks at her feet.

Before any sense of self preservation can convince me not to speak, my mouth is forming words. "Hera, are you okay?"

She's taken aback. Her face becomes stone once again. "Of course I am okay. What a stupid thing to ask," she says coldly. I should have stayed quiet. I should walk away now and never speak to her again.

Instead, I speak to her again. "I don't mean to upset you. I just wondered if anyone has ever asked you that before."

Hera says nothing. She silently rises from her seat and crosses to the door frame. She hesitates before crossing the threshold. "I don't need anyone to worry about me." She says firmly.

"Maybe not, but I'm still gonna."

She stiffens. Then, she walks away without another word.

~~~

Later that week, I find myself making a familiar late-night pilgrimage to the kitchen. I listen carefully as I maneuver the halls of the Temple, checking around the corners before turning. She's nowhere in sight. I hope it stays that way.

I walk down the same corridor where I encountered Hera for the first time. The walls are lined with pictures of my father and his brothers. I pause next to one where Zeus and Hera stand together. His authoritative expression dominates the portrait. His arm is wrapped firmly around his wife, his sister. Hera's eyes are cold and empty.

When I see her sat at the table in the kitchen, they're red and wet.

She looks up at me. Her mouth opens, but no words come out. My heart breaks for her.

I cross to the refrigerator and pull out my own secret container. "Chocolate ice cream?" She nods.

We sit together in silence. I watch her shovel spoonfuls of ice cream into her mouth. Her long hair hangs limply about her head. I want to hug her and tell her it will all be okay, and I want to run away and hope she forgets all about me. Both are true. I am terrified.

It becomes a ritual. I watch Hera lead beside her husband by day with steely-eyed ruthlessness. An then, in that small kitchen in the middle of the night, I come to sit with her quietly while she cries. She never says a word, and neither do I.

~~~

Before I know what is happening, someone is pulling me into a closet. I nearly lose my balance, but slender arms wrap around me, covering my mouth. The door closes and the lock clicks. For a brief, horrifying moment, I am plunged into complete darkness, and unable to call for help. "Don't scream," a voice hisses into my ear. The lights flip on.

Before me stands a tall woman in an iridescent gown. Iris. Her arms are crossed, eyes narrowed. The hand comes off of my mouth. I turn to see another woman still holding my body back. Iris takes a step closer to me and leans in. "What are your intentions with my mistress?"

"...What?"

"Hera might seem like an easy target to you, but she's your worst nightmare" she hisses. "What are you planning?"

"I don't understand," I choke. "I'm not planning anything."

Iris stares at me for a long time. She puts a hand on my shoulder and leans so closely into my face that I can feel her breath on my cheek. "I know who you are. I know what you are. And if you hurt her, I will tell her everything, and she will end you, Ophelia."

My blood turns cold. I feel my hands growing numb. "I-I don't want to hurt her. I'm not trying to, I swear. She seems like she needs some help."

"I can help her," Iris hisses. Her eyes stay fixed on me. Her lip twists in disgust. Is this... jealousy? I feel the heat return to my cheeks.

"It's not like that!" Her eyes hit me like daggers. "She's my aunt!"

Iris continues to stare me down. Whatever she hopes to find, she doesn't. She lets out a sharp exhale. She motions to the woman behind me to let me go. Iris looks at me again. "She's a hard person to get close to, trust me. I didn't understand." She unlocks the door. "As long as you're just trying to help... well, I'll keep your secret if you keep mine." I nod. "No funny business, okay?"

I smirk. She rolls her eyes at me.

~~~

Tonight, when I enter the empty kitchen, I am surprised to feel a certain sadness about it. How have I gone from being afraid of Hera, to being her silent confidant? I sit down at the table. The empty seat across from mine feels unnatural.

"Hi," a voice says from behind me. I turn to see Hera standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "Can we take a walk?"

The garden outside the Temple is illuminated by a mixture of moonlight and tiny lanterns. "Why do you keep showing up?"

"...For snacks?"

Hera snorts. "If it was just about snacks, you could come earlier or later and avoid me." I look at my feet. "I give you part of me. You've seen me cry. Nobody sees that. Give me something. Please."

I stop walking. Hera turns to face me. I take a deep breath. "Two years ago, I was going to be married. It was something my mother chose for me. His family was wealthy and influential. I had some type love for him, don't get me wrong... but it wasn't the kind of love I want. He loved the fact that he had control over me. He loved me only when I submitted to the things he wanted. I had to be the kind of person he could love in order for him to love me, even if it meant being someone, something, that I absolutely am not." I feel my hands shake. I breathe in, and then out. "He lied to me. He cheated on me. He physically and verbally abused me." I swat at the tears rolling down my cheeks. "Walking away was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I didn't have anyone to help me through it."

I feel arms wrap around me. I lean in to her warmth. The sobs rip through me. My chest heaves. Hera strokes my hair. I realize that she is crying too. I hug her tight.

"...I'm not ready to walk away yet," Hera sobs.

I put my hands on her shoulders and look her in the eyes. "It's okay. Just know that I'm here for you no matter what you decide."

We stand together for a while, arm-in-arm. "Can I ask you one more thing?"

"What's up?"

"Can I call you my niece, Ophelia?"

My heart drops. "You know?"

Hera looks at me, an eyebrow raised. "I was going to kill you." I feel myself growing pale. She just laughs. "I found out the morning after we met, and I wanted to kill you. But I remembered what you said. And then I had this strange feeling that fate brought us together for a reason." She pulls my still-stunned figure into another hug. "Thank you for worrying about me. Maybe with your support, one day, I will be ready."

"As one of Zeus bastard children, you are doomed to be targeted by Hera, however you found a way to get on the queens good side before she found out who your father is. "

[kiszjuli]

・── completely .ᐟ (J.JH)

(재현) ; fem!reader x jeong jaehyun

──in which jaehyun is patient and loves you completely.

genre. fluff, little angst. romance. ; tags. loving!jaehyun x hardtolove!reader. jaehyun sweetest boy. words of affirmation. jaehyun basically reassuring reader he’s not going anywhere.; w.c. 1.6k

the room was dimly lit, the soft hum of your record player filling the quiet space between you. jaehyun sits across from you on the floor, his back against the couch, one arm resting on his knee as he watches you with that unreadable expression—the one that makes your heart beat a little faster every time.

“what?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

his lips curve into a lazy smile. “your favorite love song,” he pipes, tilting his head. “tell me.”

you hesitate, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “why?”

he leans forward, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. his fingers linger just long enough to make your breath catch. “cause i wanna sing it with you.”

your heart stutters even more if it was even possible.

you swallow, pretending to think, but the truth is, you already know the answer. it’s the song you play when you’re alone, when you let yourself get lost in daydreams you won’t admit out loud.

you say the title, barely audible, and jaehyun grins like he just won a game you didn’t know you were playing.

he grabs his phone, scrolling until the melody begins to play, then shifts closer, close enough that your shoulders touch.

“sing with me,” he murmurs.

baby, tell me your favorite love song i wanna sing it with you

jaehyun’s fingers trace slow, absentminded patterns along your arm as you lie beside him, the room bathed in soft, golden light. neither of you speak for a moment, just breathing in the quiet, the warmth of each other’s presence.

then, his voice comes, low and gentle. “tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”

you swallow, turning to face him. “why?”

he shifts, propping himself up on one elbow, his gaze steady. “because i want to know you,” he says simply. “all of you. not just the easy parts.”

your chest tightens.

it’s one thing to show someone the pieces of yourself that are whole—the smiles, the laughter, the carefully put-together parts. but this? the things you’d rather leave hidden? that’s different.

still, jaehyun waits, patient as ever, like he has all the time in the world.

so you take a breath, hesitating before you speak. you tell him about the things you don’t say out loud—the fears, the insecurities, the past that still lingers in the corners of your mind. your voice wavers, but he doesn’t look away, doesn’t let go of your hand.

when you finally stop, the silence stretches between you, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve said too much.

but then jaehyun exhales, his grip tightening around your fingers. “thank you,” he murmurs. “for trusting me with that.”

you blink. “now you can’t leave, because you know.” you half-tease. but he stays serious in his response.

he gives you a small, knowing smile before pressing his forehead to yours. “never.”

take it right from the start tell me who you are every piece of your heart every bruise and scar

it was a quiet night, as you lay curled up against jaehyun. his arm is warm around you, his chest steady beneath your cheek, and for once, your mind isn’t racing—just slowing, settling into the comfort of him.

until he speaks.

“you’re thinking too much.”

you huff, tilting your head up to look at him. “maybe i just enjoy using my brain.”

he grins. “dangerous habit.”

you flick his arm, earning a low chuckle, but the moment lingers.

“what were you actually thinking about?” he asks, quieter now.

you hesitate, fingers mindlessly tracing the fabric of his shirt. “just… wondering how we got here.”

jaehyun hums, nodding like he’s deep in thought. “well, first, you annoyed me. then, you continued to annoy me. and somewhere along the way, i decided i liked it.”

you scoff, pushing at his chest, but he catches your hand before you can pull away. his fingers curl around yours, grounding, steady.

“hey,” he says, more serious now, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “i know what you mean. but this isn’t some dream or lucky accident.” his gaze holds yours, unwavering. “it’s real. and i’m gonna prove it to you—every second, every day.”

your heart stumbles, warmth creeping up your neck.

you try to play it off, rolling your eyes. “that’s a lot of pressure, don’t you think?”

jaehyun smirks, leaning in, his voice a teasing murmur against your skin. “nah. i’m pretty good at it.”

when he kisses your temple, pulling you even closer, you choose to trust him.

every second from now i’m gonna love completely

jaehyun doesn’t say anything at first. he just watches you, eyes soft but unreadable, as you sit curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees.

you’ve been quiet and distant all night.

he doesn’t push. doesn’t demand an explanation. but when you exhale a little too sharply, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes, he shifts closer.

“let me in,” he murmurs.

you shake your head. “it’s not that easy.”

his hand finds yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “it doesn’t have to be.”

your throat tightens. you don’t want to weigh him down, don’t want to dump all of this—the exhaustion, the stress, the things you don’t know how to fix—onto him. they weren’t his problems, and you didn’t want them to be

but jaehyun just squeezes your hand, like he already knows what you’re thinking.

“you don’t have to carry it alone,” he says, voice low, certain. “whatever it is. however heavy it feels.”

you swallow. “i don’t want you to feel like you have to—”

“i want to,” he interrupts, his grip firm but gentle. “i don’t care how heavy it is. i’ll carry it too.”

the words settle into your chest, something cracking open just enough to let him in.

don’t care how heavy the hurt is i wanna carry it too

good times

laughter spills between you as jaehyun wraps his arms around your waist in the kitchen, the scent of something slightly burnt lingering in the air. the dinner you attempted to cook together had ended in disaster, but neither of you cared. not when your arms found their way around his neck, not when his deep chuckle vibrated against your skin as he pulled you closer.

“this is your fault,” you tease, a smile spreading across your face.

he grins, leaning down until his nose brushes yours. “pretty sure you were the one who set off the smoke alarm.”

you swat at his chest, but he only catches your wrist, pressing a featherlight kiss to your knuckles. “good times, huh?” he murmurs, his voice warm, easy.

you nod, heart swelling. “the best.”

bad times.

the door clicks shut behind you, but the silence lingers, heavy and suffocating. you sit on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around yourself as if that’ll hold you together. jaehyun kneels in front of you, his hands reaching, hesitant, before resting gently on your knees.

“talk to me,” he says softly, looking up at you.

your throat tightens. “i don’t know what to say.”

he doesn’t push. doesn’t rush. just stays there, his presence steady, unwavering.

“you don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs. “but don’t shut me out.”

your eyes sting, the weight of everything pressing against your chest. he squeezes your thighs gently, grounding you.

“i’m here,” he continues, voice steady, sure. “for all of it. the good, the bad, the days that don’t make sense. you don’t have to go through it alone.”

your breath stutters.

“i love you.” he says softly.

he means it. he always does.

through good times, bad times, red lights, stop signs the one thing you should know is my love will always ring true, ooh.

you finish speaking, the words hanging in the air between you like a quiet confession. the vulnerability feels raw, but with jaehyun, it’s almost like it was meant to be shared—like he’s always been waiting for you to let go of the weight you’ve been carrying around.

the silence stretches on for a moment, but it’s not uncomfortable. jaehyun doesn’t rush to fill it. instead, he takes a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours, as though he’s carefully absorbing everything you’ve said.

when he speaks again, his voice is softer, but it carries a weight of its own. “you know, i’ve been waiting for you to say that,” he says, his words almost a whisper, like a secret shared between the two of you.

you blink, surprised. “what do you mean?”

jaehyun reaches across the table, his fingers brushing yours for a moment before he gently takes your hand in his. his touch is warm, grounding. “i’ve been waiting for you to trust me enough to share it all,” he says, his voice steady. “and i know it’s not easy for you to open up, but i’m not going anywhere.”

you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest at the sincerity in his eyes. he’s not just saying the words. he’s showing you that he means it.

he leans in a little closer, his other hand coming up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch tender. “i love you. now, tomorrow, a year from now…always. ,” he says, his voice low and filled with meaning, like a vow.

the words sink in, and for a moment, everything else falls away. there’s no more hesitation, no more second-guessing. it’s just you and him, and a love that feels both new and inevitable all at once.

you let out a soft breath, your heart racing, and you finally allow yourself to believe him. you squeeze his hand, your eyes locked with his. this—what he’s offering, what you’re beginning to feel is something real. something you’re ready to embrace completely.

and in that moment, you know, without a doubt, that this is just the beginning.

every second from now i’m gonna love you completely.

—

🎧— completely - jaehyun

( jaehyun birthday boy post ! )

[ivyues]

Echos of Home: Stray Kids' reactions to their S/O not being close with their parents

Bang Chan

The front door clicks shut, quieter than usual, but it’s enough for Chris to hear from the living room. He frowns, glancing at the time on his phone. You weren’t supposed to be back for another few hours.

“Babe?” His voice carries through the apartment as he stands up, walking toward the entryway. When he sees you, his expression softens, but there’s still a flicker of concern in his eyes. “You’re back early.”

You nod, setting your bag down a little too carefully, like you’re keeping yourself in check. “Yeah. I’m back.”

He studies you for a moment, his head tilting slightly the way it does when he’s trying to piece something together. He knows – has always known – that things with your parents aren’t exactly smooth. There’s no big, dramatic fallout, no abusive history, just a constant, lingering sense of not quite fitting in with them. Conversations that feel like walking through a minefield, small comments that chip away at you, a love that never feels warm enough.

Chris takes a step closer, reaching for your hand. “What happened?”

You shrug, not really wanting to get into it. “Nothing new.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, grounding, patient. “Wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head. “Not really.”

He just tugs you into his arms, wrapping you up in a hug that is nothing like the ones you get from your parents – half-hearted, obligatory. No, this one is firm, warm, steady. You melt into it before you even realize how much you needed it.

His chin rests atop your head, his voice gentle. “You know you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, right?”

You close your eyes, exhaling slowly. “I know.”

“And you know that no matter what, you always have a home here with me?”

Your throat tightens, but in a good way. In a way that makes you feel safe. “Yeah,” you murmur. “I know.”

Chris squeezes you a little tighter before swaying side to side, humming softly. You’re home. That’s all that matters.

Lee Know

It wasn’t unusual for you to be at his parent’s house; in fact, it was almost expected at this point. His parents had practically adopted you into their family, treating you like one of their own. His mom always insisted you stay for dinner, and his dad would ask you about school or work like he would his own son. With the cats curling at your side, it felt warm here – comfortable, safe.

That’s why, when Lee Know casually mentioned, “You know, I think you spend more time at my parents’ house than at your own parents’,” with a teasing smile, he didn’t expect the way your body tensed ever so slightly.

It was brief, almost imperceptible, but he caught it.

You let out a small laugh, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Maybe you're right.”

He didn’t press, not yet, but the thought lingered in his mind. And then, as if the idea had just struck him, he said, “Maybe next time, I should come over to your place. Your parents probably think I don’t exist.”

Your reaction was immediate. A flicker of hesitation crossed your face, and for a moment, you looked like you wanted to say something – anything – but then, you just shrugged. “They’re busy,” you said vaguely. “They wouldn’t really care.”

That didn’t sit right with him. You had always been good at avoiding certain topics, but this one was different. This wasn’t just avoidance – it was reluctance, something deeper.

He tilted his head slightly, his voice softening. “You never really talk about them.”

You forced a smile. “There’s not much to talk about.”

Lee Know didn’t push. He knew you well enough to understand that if he did, you’d only retreat further into yourself. Instead, he nudged your arm lightly. “Well, if they’re too busy, you know that you can come over any time. I start to think that my mom already likes you better than me.”

Changbin

Changbin slumped onto the couch beside you, letting out a dramatic sigh. “When was the last time you even visited your parents?” he joked, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Oh, you know,” you said with heavy sarcasm, “got yelled at for every life decision I’ve ever made. Good times.”

The teasing glint in Changbin’s eyes disappeared in an instant. He frowned, tilting his head to get a better look at your expression, but you avoided his gaze, pretending to scroll through your phone. His heart sank at the forced nonchalance in your voice.

“Wait… what do you mean?” His voice softened, laced with concern.

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “You know how they are. Nothing I do is ever right. I could be a literal millionaire and they’d still find a way to tell me I messed up.” You let out a small, humorless laugh. “It’s just how it is.”

Changbin didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. “That’s not how it should be, though,” he murmured. “You deserve better than that.”

You blinked at his sincerity, feeling a lump form in your throat. “It’s fine, Bin. I’m used to it.”

He sighed, shifting closer so your shoulders touched. “That doesn’t make it okay,” he countered, his brows knitting together in frustration. 

You hesitated for a moment before speaking again, voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes, I wonder if I could ever be a good mom,” you admitted. “like… I never really got to experience what having a good mom feels like. What if I mess up the way they did?”

Changbin’s eyes softened, and he gently cupped your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Hey,” he said firmly. “You are already so full of love and care. The fact that you worry about that proves you’re going to be amazing. You won’t be like them. You get to choose the kind of parent you want to be.”

Your heart swelled at his words, warmth spreading through your chest. You had always carried the weight of your strained relationship with your parents alone.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I know.”

Hyunjin

Hyunjin had never been one to push too hard when it came to personal matters. He understood boundaries, respected them even. But every time the topic of parents came up – his or yours – you always managed to steer the conversation elsewhere. And most importantly, you had never once mentioned introducing him to them.

At first, he brushed it off, thinking you were just taking things slow. But after nearly a year together, it stung. It made him wonder if there was a reason, a reason that had everything to do with him.

That thought festered in his chest until one evening, it finally slipped out.

“Do you not want me to meet your parents?” His voice was soft, uncertain.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I mean… we’ve been together for a while now, but you never bring it up.” He forced a small chuckle, trying to keep his tone light even though it felt anything but. “I just… I guess I can’t help but wonder if it’s because of me.”

Your heart sank at the vulnerability in his voice. “Hyunjin—”

“Is it because I’m an idol?” He cut in before you could explain. “I know that might be weird for some parents, and if that’s the case, I get it. But I just—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand over his hair. “I don’t know. It feels like you don’t want to include me in that part of your life.”

You swallowed hard, guilt settling in.

“Hyunjin, it’s not that I don’t want you to meet them,” you said carefully, fingers gripping the fabric of your sleeves. “It’s just… my relationship with my parents isn’t great. It’s complicated.”

His eyes searched yours, confusion flickering across his face. “Complicated how?”

You hesitated. “We don’t really… talk much. When we do, it’s tense. We just don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

Hyunjin’s expression softened slightly. “Then why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“Because I didn’t want to talk about it,” you admitted. “It’s messy and frustrating, and I didn’t want to drag you into that.”

“But I want to be dragged into it,” he said, leaning forward. “I want to understand what’s going on in your life. That includes the bad parts, too.”

You looked away, the weight of his words settling in. “I guess… I was embarrassed.”

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed. “Embarrassed?”

“I don’t have the kind of parents who are loving and supportive,” you admitted, voice quieter now. “And I didn’t want you to see that and think less of me.”

“Y/N, I would never think less of you because of something like that.” He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “I just wanted to understand. I thought… I thought you didn’t want me to meet them because of me.”

You exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

Hyunjin shook his head, lips pressing into a thin line before he let out a breath. “I just want you to trust me enough to talk to me about these things.”

“I do,” you said quickly. “I just… I didn’t know how.”

Han

"So you don’t want me to meet your parents?" Han repeated, his voice softer than you expected. Not quite hurt or offended – just… concerned.

You swallowed hard, nodding. "It’s not that I don’t want you to. I just— I don’t think it’s a good idea."

He tilted his head, studying you. "Can you tell me why?"

You hesitated. Han had always been so good at making you feel safe, but there was still a deep-rooted instinct inside you that told you to keep this part of your life locked away. It wasn’t that your parents were abusive, not in the way people might think, but they had never really seen you. Not truly. Their love came with conditions, with expectations you could never quite meet.

"I just… I don’t want to put you in a situation where you're not treated well," you admitted, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "They don’t respect me, Han. And since you’re with me, they won’t respect you either. I don’t want that for you."

"I get it," he said quietly, his voice steady. "And I love that you’re thinking about me. But, baby… you don’t have to protect me from them."

You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head before you could.

"I’m not saying we have to go to a family dinner or anything," he continued. "But you don’t have to carry this alone. I know it’s complicated, and I know it sucks. But I don’t want you to think that you have to shield me from this part of your life just because you’ve been dealing with it alone for so long."

Your throat tightened. "But they’ll—"

"They can think whatever they want about me," he interrupted gently. "What matters is what you think. And if they don’t respect you, that’s on them. That’s not a reflection of who you are, and it’s definitely not going to change how I see you."

You exhaled shakily. "I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to let you meet them. I've spent too much time hoping they'll change."

Han smiled, squeezing your hands reassuringly. "That’s okay. We’ll take it at your pace. Just… don’t shut me out, okay? I want to be here for you. For everything."

Felix

Felix stretched his arms, groaning slightly as he leaned back against the couch. The two of you had been catching up on life the whole evening. He had just been telling you about his latest video call with his parents, laughing about how his mom still worried if he was eating enough.

"Honestly," he said between bites of the cookies he had brought over, "I think I see my parents more often than you see yours."

You froze, your fingers tightening around the mug of tea you were holding. The playful lilt in his voice made it clear that he hadn’t meant any harm, but the words hit you harder than you expected. Your mind ran through the last time you had actually visited your parents.

Felix must have noticed your sudden stillness, because when you looked up at him, his brows were slightly furrowed, eyes searching yours. 

"You’re not wrong," you admitted quietly, sipping your tea to avoid his gaze. "I think you really do."

"Oh. I— I didn’t mean to... I was just joking."

"I know," offering him a small smile. "It’s just… true."

A beat of silence stretched between you. Felix set his cookie down, shifting closer until his knee bumped against yours. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you never talked about your parents, but it always felt exhausting to explain the complicated mess that was your relationship with them. They weren’t cruel or absent, just distant – close enough to be in your life, but never truly present.

"Not much to say, really," you murmured. "We just don’t talk much. It’s always… weird. Like we don’t know how to be around each other."

Felix listened, nodding. "That sounds really lonely."

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the simple truth in his words. "Yeah," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "It kinda is."

Felix didn’t say anything at first. "You know," he said, voice warm and sure, "family doesn’t have to be just the people you’re born with."

Your chest tightened, not with sadness, but with something gentler.

Felix grinned, before nudging you playfully. "Well, for what it’s worth, my parents love adopting people into the family. You might already be part of it without knowing."

Seungmin

The living room was quiet except for the occasional tapping of Seungmin’s phone as he scrolled, stretched out comfortably on your couch. You sat beside him, your head resting against the couch cushion, feeling the warmth of his presence next to you. 

Then, your phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Mom flashed across the screen.

Seungmin glanced at it briefly before looking at you, expecting you to reach for it. But instead, you pressed decline without a second thought.

He blinked, his brows furrowing slightly. "You’re not gonna answer?"

You shrugged. "Nope."

He sat up a little, setting his phone down. "Why not? It could be important."

"Unlikely," you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

The confusion on his face lingered for a moment before realization set in. "You don’t really talk to her much, do you?"

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Not if I can help it."

Seungmin didn’t respond right away, just watched you carefully. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. "You guys don’t get along?"

"Not really," you admitted. "We just... don’t see things the same way. Talking always turns into a disagreement, and honestly, it’s exhausting. It’s easier to just not deal with it."

Seungmin hummed, a quiet sound of understanding. 

For a moment, he just sat there, thinking. Then, without warning, he leaned over and lightly nudged your shoulder with his own. "You don’t have to pretend you’re fine."

You glanced at him, surprised by how easily he saw through you.

He tilted his head, his expression unreadable yet undeniably gentle. "You’re allowed to be upset about it. You don’t have to act like it doesn’t bother you."

Something in your chest loosened. You hadn’t even realized how much tension you’d been carrying until now.

"Thanks," you murmured.

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. "Anytime." 

I.N

You sighed as you scrolled through your messages, the same feeling of disappointment creeping in. Your parents had sent another message in the family group chat – one of their usual updates about your sibling, filled with admiration and excitement. You were happy for them, truly. But every time you saw their name being praised while yours was barely acknowledged, the ache in your chest deepened.

I.N sat beside you on the couch, watching your face shift from neutral to something more distant. He nudged your arm gently. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You hesitated before tilting your phone toward him. He skimmed the messages, his features tightening as he put the pieces together. He already knew the story – how your relationship with your parents had grown distant ever since you chose a different path, how they seemed to relate more to your sibling, leaving you feeling like an outsider in your own family. He also knew you weren’t looking for pity.

Instead of offering empty words, I.N put your phone aside. “Does it hurt?” he asked quietly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “A little,” you admitted. “I mean, I moved out as soon as I could, and I’ve been independent for a while, so I shouldn’t care so much. But… it’s like no matter what I do, I’m not enough for them.”

I.N frowned. “That’s not true. You are enough. They just… don’t see you the way they should, and that’s on them, not you.”

You looked at him, feeling a flicker of warmth in his gaze. He wasn’t trying to fix it. He wasn’t telling you to move on or pretend it didn’t matter. 

“You’ve built a life for yourself that you love, haven’t you?” he continued. “That takes courage. And just because they don’t recognize it doesn’t make it any less real.”

A small, wobbly smile broke through your somber expression.

I.N grinned, giving your hand a playful squeeze. “I just know you. And I know that you deserve to be seen, to be valued. Even if they don’t show it, I will.”

You exhaled, leaning into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Innie.”

masterlist

[starrynights-sunnyskies]

as the flowers bloom, my heart does too ⋆*·ﾟmisa x putellas!femreader, social media au, (the honeymoon diaries)

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when your relationship ends and all you want to do is hide and cry, flowers suddenly start to appear on your doorstep.

or; misa hating to see a pretty girl cry and suffer and going out of her way to cheer her up while staying anonymous

fic: see my masterlist

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3,688 likes yourusername: honeymoon era incoming

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sofie.svava 💞💗💘

alexiaputellas Have the best time ever, you two!

bff1 do it safe xoxoxo

albaps9 THOSE HEELS 🤩 ↳ yourusername wanna borrow them some time? ↳ albaps9 YES ↳ yourusername done deal!

bff2 💅🏽

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29,013 likes marisabel_rguez: Together.

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albaps9 cute tush @/yourusername on fourth slide 👀 ↳ bff1 boom chicka wow wow ↳ yourusername perverts

salmaparalluelo omg 😍

ingrid_engen all the best you two!

username4 goals

bff1 they're a little fruity

alexiaputellas Did they have chicken nuggets and french fries on the menu? ↳ yourusername no 😔

jennihermoso Enjoy your honeymoon, you might only get one! 😉 ↳ yourusername obviously!!!

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Text Messages

you: soooo… we live together

you: we’ve gotten married

you: are almost together for 5 years

wifey 💞: Yes…

wifey 💞: Where are you going with this?

you: and we’re really settling down now

wifey 💞: Go on

you: i think it’s time for the next step

wifey 💞: Next step? 😅😳

you: i kind of might have maybe highly likely lowkey went somewhere today

wifey 💞: Oh god what did you do

you: iiiii went to the animal shelter

wifey 💞: Y/N Rodriguez-Putellas, there better not be a dog sitting on my side of the couch when I get back

you: omg no i would never adopt or make such a decision without you knowing

wifey 💞: Phew

you: however…

wifey 💞: How about an aquarium first?

you: ugh no

you: can i talk to a fish?

wifey 💞: You can sure try

you: can i cuddle a fish?

wifey 💞: Better not try that

you: can it keep me company when you’re away?

wifey 💞: Maybe not, but they're fun to look at?

wifey 💞: And they’re easier to take care of than a dog. A dog would be really dependable on us. 

you: was i talking about a dog? 🧐

wifey 💞: 😱

you: because i saw THE cutest cat there!!! a little ginger one

wifey 💞: Ginger cats are known to be evil spawns

you: that was the nickname my fam had for me when i was a teenager so i’m the living proof to not judge a book by its cover 😇

wifey 💞: I mean…

you: rude!

wifey 💞: Hahaha tell me about the cat, babe

you: they found him a few weeks ago dumped on the side of a road and he was really malnourished and sick, but he’s been a fighter. 

wifey 💞: And he took to you?

you: yeah immediately ):

you: he’s like, my soulmate 

wifey 💞: Who’s rude now? Ouch 😂

you: but he's still struggling and is still taking lots of meds. he's weak but getting stronger each week, and i just want to give him a proper chance. the shelter can't afford all of his meds etc bc they're not being funded, but we can afford it. if we didn't adopt him, i'd forever keep wondering if he went to a warm home and a good family or if he even made it.

wifey 💞: Ugh I love how much you always care too much

wifey 💞: Listen, I’m not making ANY promises, but I do agree that adding a sweet fluffy friend to our family could be great, and that I've been thinking about it too.

wifey 💞: When I’m home, we can go to the shelter to visit him again, how’s that sound?

you: no way 

you: are you serious

you: misa don't fuck with me now

wifey 💞: Yes way, and I am.

you: aaaaaaaah i’m so excited!!! this is going to be the best thing ever for him!!!!!! 

you: and for us ofc

you: i’m going to ask my friend on some tips on having a cat so we can be sure to make a decision

you: outweigh the pros and cons

you: no matter how much i already love that little one, i want to be sure we can properly take care of him and give him the best home ever.

wifey 💞: That’d be perfect. Keep me updated?

wifey 💞: And I’m sure we can

wifey 💞: I love you

you: i love you toooo (even if you had said no)

wifey 💞: Really? 🤔

you: YES REALLY 😪

wifey 💞: Just promise me you won't start loving him more than me.

you: hmmkay 😁😁😁😁

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tagged: marisabel_rguez 9,618 likes yourusername: still on cloud nine

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alexiaputellas ❤️

bff3 You both deserve the world.

patri8guijarro Favourite wives!

kika.nazareth Aaah ☺️💗

fridolinarolfo 😍😘

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tagged: bff3, bff2, bff1, albaps9 7,014 likes yourusername: throwback to the best weekend ever

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bff1 best sleepover i've had since elementary

username2 oh WOW!

bff2 Didn't get a wink of sleep but it was SO FUN

albaps9 definitely cherished my time being part of the fab 4 ↳ bff3 I didn't know we had a name! ↳ yourusername yea no i'm vetoing that one

bff3 My girls 😍 And god, you were radiating that day!!

username1 gosh you're gorgeous y/n!!

marisabel_rguez Oh how absolutely beautifully happy you looked. I love you. I'm the luckiest. 45 likes ↳ yourusername no i am 🥺

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Text Messages

albaquerque 🌼: hello my sweet sweet sisters by birth and by law

albaquerque 🌼: mami and i thought it would be sweet to spend saturday the 21st of the next month with as much family we can gather

albaquerque 🌼: and plus ones (hi misa, hi olga)

wifey 💞: Hi Alba 😌

olga 🌸: Hiiii 

you: gonna catch ‘em all.

wifey 💞: Uhhh, let me check, but sounds fun!

ale🐻: What do you have in mind? I’m glad Y/N isn’t picking this time because i’m not going to another pottery class 

you: hey!! everyone liked that but you!! you just hated it because yours came out like a demolished turd

olga 🌸: 🤣

ale🐻: That's such an exaggeration

olga 🌸: no, babe, she's right. it looked horrible

albaquerque 🌼: AnYwAy, we want to go go-karting

you: MAMI wants to go GO-KARTING?

albaquerque 🌼: and maybe go to a winery/outside dining in some fancy shmancy vineyard

you: okay in what order? bc i’m not going onto the track after you’ve had a few drinks. you’re already a terrible driver as is

albaquerque 🌼: ok so y/n is no longer invited

wifey 💞: Can I still come?

you: fuck u 😒

albaquerque 🌼: always

olga 🌸: sounds perfect!! i can make it, ale’s still checking her schedule

ale🐻: What about the little ones, though?

albaquerque 🌼: they have an indoor playground or trampoline park thingy there and tia's gonna look after them

you: what the hell, i’d much rather go there than go-karting

albaquerque 🌼: it’s ages 5-12 only on a saturday afternoon

ale🐻: So Y/N will fit right in

olga 🌸: 🤭

you: you're so hilarious

albaquerque 🌼: guys focus, we need to know how many are coming so that we can put in a reservation. they need to prep all the karts beforehand

ale🐻: I should be free on the 21st by the way, so count us in!

wifey 💞: Us too! We'll drive to you guys on Friday already so prepare a room! 😎

you: i'm soooo gonna kick all your asses

olga 🌸: we'll see about that 😌

ale🐻: I'm the best driver on paper, no accidents and no speeding tickets

albaquerque 🌼: that's exactly why you'll be last. you need to be a menace to win go-karting

wifey 💞: Okay, so how dangerous is it exactly....

albaquerque 🌼: as dangerous as we dare to make it mwuahaha

albaquerque 🌼: but you're right, my colleague once got a broken rib lmao so we should probably set some ground rules first like, no intentional bumping or whatever

you: pussy

olga 🌸: pussy

you: jinx

ale🐻: Dios mio, here we go, this looks promising 🤨

you: why did bff1 just text me 'wanna bet on me winning?🏎😈'

albaquerque 🌼: oh yeah

albaquerque 🌼: i invited her

you: 😱

you: as YOUR plus one?!

albaquerque 🌼: oh shut your mouth

albaquerque 🌼: i thought you'd wanted her there since it's been so long, so i invited her. don't act like she's never tagged along to a putellas day before

you: but never as YOUR date ooOoOOoH 😍 smoochie smooch

albaquerque 🌼: y/n shut up before i punch your fucking teeth out

ale🐻: Hey, hey, hey, calma

ale🐻: None of that

ale🐻: The more the merrier. We'll have a fun day ☺️

albaquerque 🌼: exactly!! ale gets it

you: i mean, it's kind of awkward to have your family third-wheel on your date but whatever rocks your boat

albaquerque 🌼: you're mami's least favourite daughter

you: waaahhh waahhh 😪

ale🐻: On second thought, maybe Y/N won't be let in during the 5-12 afternoon, babies don't get to go on the trampolines.

olga 🌸: This is why I love you three

wifey 💞: ⬆️

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Text Messages

bff1👅: wanna bet on me winning?🏎😈

you: ARE YOU COMING TOO??

bff1👅: yes yes alba asked me

you: ○○○

you: ○○○

you: are you smooching my sister

bff1👅: ew that's like smooching you

bff1👅: ���

you: wtf, why are you saying 'ew' to smooching me? i'm a catch

bff1👅: you wanna smooch me?

bff1👅: 😉

you: i regret using the word smooch now

bff1👅: 😏

you: 🤢

you: and you just totally changed the subject

bff1👅: no, you did

you: oh you're right oopsie🧐

you: ok but.... if you WERE smooching my sister, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?

bff1👅: duh, you know i can't keep a secret from you even if i wanted to. i promise. but i'm not into alba

bff1👅: tbh, she has been nicer lately

bff1👅: which is weird

bff1👅: because she's never been that soft with me usually

bff1👅: maybe she's finally warming up to me after all these years 🤣

you: tbh i feel like she's been feeling really lonely lately

you: everyone around her is in relationships or marriages and settling down

you: i think she's been gravitating towards you bc of that

bff1👅: because i'm also single and pathetic? gee thanks

bff1👅: kidding, i know what you mean

bff1👅: we should set her up with someone

you: ok so long as you organise my funeral after that, because she'd kill me if we did that

bff1👅: oh, don't be so dramatic, what could go wrong?

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↳ 12h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story

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18,814 likes marisabel_rguez: Slow living with my WIFE. 😇☺️😎

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ona.battle Absolute goals, you two

albaps9 since when did you become a passenger princess ↳ marisabel_rguez Since I got a cute personal chauffeur!

bff1 confirmed: misa likes watching her lover sleep. creep ↳ marisabel_rguez hey!!! 🤣 and she's my wife! 😤

yourusername hello wife. how are you wife? i love you wife. ↳ marisabel_rguez Hello wife!!! 😘😘😘

yourusername takeout runs are the only type of running i like.

bff1 my mothers

alexiaputellas Did you just capture the moment Misa realised she wanted to get a dog next? ↳ yourusername well, mr peanut won't like that ↳ alexiaputellas Did you really name your cat, mr peanut?? ↳ yourusername you're his auntie!!! you should know! ↳ alexiaputellas I'm a dog person, I don't care about that cat. ↳ yourusername you'll warm up to him, he'll wrap you around his claw 😌 ↳ yourusername but no, that's his nickname ↳ alexiaputellas Why? ↳ yourusername just because ↳ alexiaputellas Just because why? ↳ yourusername because it sounded funny ↳ alexiaputellas I swear you're still five.

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↳ 5h ago: yourusername added to their story ↳ 59min ago: yourusername added to their story

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Text Messages

you: love love love

you: the girls just left 😔

you: i miss you

you: when do you land again?

wifey 💞: Hi my everything, I miss you too

wifey 💞: Did you have a good time together? ❤️

wifey 💞: Umm probably around 1am-ish?

wifey 💞: But don’t stay up until I’m home, that might take another 2-3 hours

you: dooooon’t tell me what to do

you: and yes, the bestest best best time ever

you: you act like i can sleep without knowing if you got home safely.

you: i saved you some dinner if you’re hungry

wifey 💞: Haha, it was worth a try. But thank you, baby

wifey 💞: Will probably be in the air soon, so talk later!

you: see you tonight! stay safe and i love you

wifey 💞: I love you

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tagged: bff1, marisabel_rguez 4,948 likes yourusername: oh, and we became mummies 🐈

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jennihermoso Welcome to the world, peanut pute-rodri.

bff1 long labour? ↳ yourusername very, whew!

bff2 Aw, your son's just like his mama! (a menace!!) ↳ yourusername 😇

marisabel_rguez Look at our son 😍

albaps9 finally an auntie, i can't believe it. never thought you'd be the first with a kid. you're still a kid yourself. ↳ yourusername soooo you had all your money on ale, an athlete with a busy life? or on yourself, a doof who's single? ↳ albaps9 🤬😤

bff3 The cutest baby ever. ↳ bff1 ikr no diapers, no crying

alexiaputellas RIP to the couch he used as a scratching post. Dogs don't do that 🐶 ↳ yourusername at least he'll never destroy a really expensive set of cleats ahum ↳ alexiaputellas Nala was still young then 🤨

sofie.svava How did you convince misa to finally adopt a pet 😂 ↳ yourusername i asked reeeeeeeeally nicely ↳ bff1 read: she begged on her hands and knees ↳ yourusername 😧 ↳ bff1 get your mind out of the gutter, you dipshit ↳ marisabel_rguez She did ask really nicely, actually 😌

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Text Messages

albaquerque 🌼: mami, ale and i figured it all out

mama 😊: What did you figure out, mija?

you: alba is secretly adopted all along? 😱 i KNEW it

albaquerque 🌼: i figured out the cause of your high blood pressure and your stress

ale🐻: I'm not sure I want to be involved in this 🤨

mama 😊: What is it?

albaquerque 🌼: [photo]

you: 😑

you: i knew it would be something stupid like this

mama 😊: Haha, tell me something I don't know!

ale🐻: Mami 😂😂😂

you: oh wow 🙂

albaquerque 🌼: see? 😇

mama 😊: I love you all to pieces and equally, but Y/N honey, you did almost cost me my heart. Multiple times.

mama 😊: But that's all in the past, and we're all going through good times now. I'm proud of you and how you overcame your obstacles. You're my strong little girl, mijita.

mama 😊: I'm proud of all three of you and the life you're building for yourselves. I love you.

mama 😊: My beautiful girls!! 😍

ale🐻: Thanks mama 😘

you: your plan backfired, alba, i got complimented instead hehehe 💁‍♀️🕺

albaquerque 🌼: lalalala 😒

mama 😊: 😛

mama 😊: Some things never change.

ale🐻: Forever one step away from annoying each other 🤪

mama 😊: 🤭🤗

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tagged: alexiaputellas, yourusername 205 likes username1: alexia and her sister with fans after the gala. eli was there too.

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username4 we were there!!!!! it was so cold but they still stayed and talked and took photos with us. yn felt very weird people wanted a photo with her too and got VERY shy, alexia just laughed at that ↳ username6 girly still doesn't seem to grasp her popularity within the woso fandom 🤣

username9 Ahh no, we just missed them 😭

username3 Eli raised beautiful, gracious women! She must be proud 🖤

username18 imagine having Ale as a big sis

username5 NO BUT LISTEN- i met her a looong while ago with my gf on the streets in madrid when she told us she'd get our message through to misa and tonight she recognised us and said she told misa back then!!! she's a literal angel!!

username35 no but why am I so obsessed with the putellas sisters? I need more of them

username10 Alexia was so sweet with Y/N, making sure she stayed close and was feeling okay. She seems like such a great big sister. ↳ username4 fr! i noticed that too! yn was getting the baby of the fam treatment! also from eli, it was rlly cute to see. eli was taking pictures for herself of ale and yn too ahaha.

username15 they really look alike here ↳ username18 Yeah, that happens with siblings 🤭

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Text Messages

you: hahaha your sister sent me a photo of you in high school

wifey 💞: Which one?

you: [photo]

you: as if i couldn’t love you more

wifey 💞: Oh my god, I’ll kill her. She's sabotaging my marriage by sending that photo to you

you: you're so dramatic ahahaha

wifey 💞: Pfff, you and I would not have been dating if we met in high school

you: WHY NOT

wifey 💞: Have you seen high school me? and have you seen high school you????

you: aw but you were so young and adorable and you were cool and already so gorgeous. we all look silly in our old photos with the trends from back then. but i love it.

wifey 💞: No, I look disgusting!!

you: you were already beautiful, and i’m pretty sure teenage-me’s heart would’ve leaped in her chest whenever you would have looked at her

you: you'd probably even be my sweet gay awakening ☺️

wifey 💞: I thought it was that actress

you: which one? there were so many 😂

wifey 💞: If we'd dated then, I'd constantly have to fight off the competition

you: yea? you would've blasted 'steal your girl' by 1D in your room after school? 😂

you: i would've only had eyes for you, let's be real

you: and high school misa already had my misa in her, so i'll adore young misa even more. protect her and carry her around like a tiny pokemon. pika pika.

wifey 💞: I've never seen a girl as pretty as you

wifey 💞: You're really weird though

you: 🙃

wifey 💞: ....👀 Kidding. I love you.

you: and i love every version of you. young, old and wrinkly, grumpy, hangry, ....horny...,frustrated after a loss.... hangry (again)

wifey 💞: Flattery will get you everywhere, Mrs Rodriguez

you: you’re making me feel like a sexy teacher, mrs putellas

wifey 💞: Is this your way of trying to get us to roleplay?

you: NO.

you: unless...

wifey 💞: You're crazy

you: about you? always. 😁

wifey 💞: I love you to pieces, you know that, right?

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tagged: bff3, marisabel_rguez 2,378 likes yourusername: we finish each other's sandwhiches

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marisabel_rguez Jinx, jinx again.

bff2 Our biggest tiny friend <3

bff1 it's the 'you're really weird though' for me

albaps9 your breakfast looks like it came straight from the trash ↳ yourusername you're straight from the trash ↳ albaps9 that's no way to talk about our mother ↳ yourusername 😯 ↳ albaps9 we shared a womb, and since i came before you, there are parts of me in you ↳ yourusername ew ew ew ew why phrase it all like that ↳ alexiaputellas Did you read that somewhere online? 😂 ↳ albaps9 yup. and we can even have cells from our tio in us bc he was in abuela's womb before mama ↳ yourusername eeeeewwww ew ew ew stop. i'm good not knowing.

bff3 He absolutely loved the sleepover! But did you and Alba teach him to flip people off? ↳ bff1 gasp.... ↳ bff2 Omg you did what, yn? ↳ yourusername wait what??? ↳ yourusername no no no definitely not!! ↳ bff3 He keeps raising his middle finger to everyone and then laughs 😥😅 ↳ albaps9 it's not a middle finger, it's a unicorn fist 🖕 ↳ yourusername alba i'm going to kill you

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28,014 likes marisabel_rguez: I don't exist if I don't have her, the sun doesn't shine, the world doesn't turn, alright? 🎶❤️

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albaps9 YN OMG YOU CUTIE

alexiaputellas Hey you got her to puzzle with you, she must really love you ↳ alexiaputellas Kidding, I love how happy you make her ↳ marisabel_rguez ☺️

username8 She's so adorable omg

janafernandez3 sweeeeeet like candy 🍭

username3 she's radiating 🥺

yourusername but i knoooooow, i knoooooow for suuuuure. ↳ marisabel_rguez Everybody wanna steal my giiiiirl, everybody wanna take her heart away ↳ yourusername couple billion in the whole wide wooooorld ↳ marisabel_rguez Find another one 😤 ↳ yourusername cause sheeeee belongs to meeee 😇

ingrid.engen That first one!!!! Sooo cute, yn!!

sofie.svava prettiest girl ever

username6 aw she looks so happy ↳ yourusername bc i was looking at mah wife 😊 12 likes

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tagged: marisabel_rguez 2,658 likes yourusername: happy valentine's 💌

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bff3 Happy Valentine's Day, beauties!

username9 Happy valentine's!

marisabel_rguez Thank you for being my valentine 😉😘 ↳ marisabel_rguez And thank you for all the sweet gestures, I love you.

alexiaputellas ❤️

username3 love is in the air <3

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↳ 1h ago: yourusername added to their story

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tagged: marisabel_rguez 5,018 likes yourusername: holding space with my wife.

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Bff2 love that for you 👉👌 ↳ bff1 ahahahaha those emojis ↳ bff2 what? ↳ bff2 wait no!!! it's like the meme!!! holding onto the finger! omfg

jennihermoso Look at that rock still shining 💍

username8 ma'am... your aesthetic and feed- 💅🏽

marisabel_rguez What a woman 😍

username1 HOT TO GO 🕺

bff1 listen, misa? uh, misa? i've got something to confisa ↳ albaps9 you deserve each other, you and BOQQQQ ↳ yourusername 🤦‍♀️🤭

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↳ 12h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story

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Text Messages

you: happy 5 years together, my love. i'm easily the happiest i've ever been. i never in my wildest dreams would've imagined this. thank you for all your healing love, your support, your care and for choosing me.

wifey 💞: Happy five years, beautiful. I'll always choose you, every second of every day. You're my entire world, now and always. I love you

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a/n: happy valentine's day, my loves!

[oldsoul007]

kiss me

grumpy!joel miller x reader

summary: Joel despises the superficiality of Valentine’s Day, and you, a hopeless romantic who adores love in all its forms, find your friendship tested when you spend Valentine’s week together as single friends, only to discover unexpected feelings that blur the line between friendship and love.

a/n: a little valentine story for yall 💞

joel miller masterlist

Valentine’s week was my favorite time of year. Everything felt lighter, softer—like the world was wrapped in a warm, pink haze. Even if most people thought it was cheesy, I loved it. Love letters, heart-shaped candies, couples holding hands—it made me believe that love, real love, was still out there.

Joel Miller didn’t share that belief.

“Don’t even start,” Joel grumbled the moment he picked up my call, his deep, tired voice crackling through the phone.

I grinned, curling up on my couch with a cup of coffee. “Start what?” I teased, already picturing the irritated look on his face. “I was just calling to check on my favorite Valentine’s Grinch.”

He let out a long sigh, and I bit back a laugh.

“What do you want, y/n?”

“Well,” I drew out the word, knowing exactly how much he’d hate what I was about to say. “We’re both single this year. Why don’t we spend Valentine’s week together?”

There was a beat of silence. I imagined him blinking in disbelief.

“You’re joking.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” I insisted. “Movies, takeout, no pressure. And who knows? Maybe I’ll even convince you that love isn’t as terrible as you think it is.”

“Not happening,” he muttered, but I heard the faintest smile in his voice.

“Is that a yes?” I pressed, holding my breath.

Another long sigh, then—“Fine. But don’t expect me to wear anything pink.”

I laughed, my heart fluttering. “Deal.”

The next few days felt like walking a tightrope.

We spent almost every moment together, but never crossed the line. We did all the things couples do—late-night drives with music humming softly in the background, sharing breakfasts at the little diner on Main Street, walking through the park while I pointed out every couple holding hands just to watch Joel roll his eyes.

But neither of us said it. Neither of us dared to admit what was simmering beneath the surface.

“This is exhausting,” Joel muttered as we sat on a park bench, sipping coffee.

“What is?” I asked, smiling into my cup.

“All of this. People pretending for a week that they’re in love.”

I nudged his shoulder playfully. “Not everyone’s pretending, you know.”

He scoffed. “Name one couple that ain’t puttin’ on a show.”

I didn’t even have to think. “My grandparents.”

Joel raised an eyebrow.

“They’ve been together for 53 years,” I said softly, my smile turning wistful. “They met in college. My grandpa still brings her flowers every Friday. And she still laughs at all his bad jokes.”

Joel let out a low hum, like he wasn’t sure if he believed me.

“I’m not saying it’s common,” I added, reading his mind. “But just because it’s rare doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

He glanced at me then, his gaze lingering a little too long, a little too soft. My breath caught, but I looked away before my feelings betrayed me.

One afternoon, we ended up in the bookstore downtown, wandering through the aisles. Joel found himself in the history section, while I was drawn to the romance novels, of course.

“You’re really gonna read one of those?” he asked, leaning against the shelf with a teasing smirk.

“Yes, Joel,” I shot back, holding up a book with a dramatic cover. “It’s called escapism. You should try it sometime.”

“I’ll stick to the real world, thanks.”

“Where love doesn’t exist?” I teased.

“Exactly.”

I sighed dramatically, shaking my head. “You’re hopeless.”

As we walked out, I couldn’t help myself. I nodded toward an older couple sitting on a bench, their hands intertwined, lost in their own little world.

“Look at them,” I whispered. “Don’t tell me that’s not real.”

Joel followed my gaze, but said nothing. I wished I knew what he was thinking.

It started with a simple plan—cook dinner, keep things light, pretend my heart wasn’t on the verge of bursting every time Joel Miller looked at me.

I wasn’t exactly a gourmet chef, but I knew my way around a kitchen well enough to whip up something decent. Joel sat at the counter, watching me with an amused expression, a beer in hand.

“You sure you’re not gonna burn the place down?” he teased.

I shot him a playful glare. “I’m perfectly capable, thank you very much.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. I, on the other hand, was trying not to melt under the weight of his gaze.

I turned on some music to fill the silence, letting the soft strum of a guitar filter through the room. And then it happened—one of my favorite love songs started playing. A soft, sweet melody that made my chest ache.

“Uh-oh,” Joel muttered, already sensing what was coming.

I grinned, turning to face him. “Dance with me.”

“Y/n…” he warned, shaking his head.

“Please?” I stretched out the word, giving him my best pleading eyes. “For me?”

He let out a long sigh, but when I reached out my hand, he took it without a fight.

His hand was warm as he pulled me close, his touch gentle despite the roughness of his calloused fingers. We swayed in my tiny kitchen, the smell of dinner forgotten, the music weaving around us like a secret only we knew.

“This is ridiculous,” he whispered, but there was a softness in his voice, in the way his hand rested on my waist.

“Maybe,” I whispered back, resting my head lightly on his shoulder. “But it’s nice, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. I could feel it—the way his grip tightened ever so slightly, the way his breath hitched when I leaned in closer.

For a moment, it felt like we weren’t pretending anymore. Like the feelings we never spoke about were real, tangible.

When the song ended, Joel pulled back slowly, his eyes lingering on mine. The air between us crackled with something unspoken.

“Dinner’s gonna burn,” he muttered, clearing his throat as he stepped away.

I laughed softly, but my heart still ached.

Because even when we danced around our feelings, I knew the truth.

Valentine’s Day arrived quietly, the way it always did.

I felt like I was losing my grip. Every smile, every lingering glance, every time Joel’s hand brushed against mine felt like it was unraveling me.

When I opened my apartment door that morning to find Joel standing there—grumpy expression firmly in place—holding a small bouquet of wildflowers, I froze.

“Uh… these are for you,” he mumbled, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

I stared at the flowers, then at him, trying to process the fact that Joel Miller—the man who swore up and down that Valentine’s Day was nothing but a commercial scam—was holding flowers for me.

“Is this a joke?” I teased, even though my heart was racing.

“Do you want ‘em or not?” he grumbled, shoving them toward me.

I laughed softly, taking the bouquet from his hands. “They’re beautiful, Joel. Thank you.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… you like this kinda thing. Figured you deserved somethin’ nice.”

My chest tightened at his words. Joel Miller, who claimed not to believe in love, had just done something more thoughtful than any grand gesture ever could be.

That night, we ended up back at my apartment, a bottle of wine between us, laughing over old memories.

“I don’t get it,” Joel said, leaning back on the couch, his voice quieter now. “You got your heart broken—bad—and you still believe in all this love stuff.”

I swallowed hard, the memory of my past relationship still a dull ache. “Because I know what it feels like to be loved, Joel. Even if it wasn’t forever. And I know what it feels like to be alone, too.”

He looked at me then, something unreadable in his eyes. “You’re not alone,” he whispered.

And for a moment, I let myself believe him.

The night felt endless, every moment stretching out between us like a question neither of us wanted to answer.

I could feel Joel beside me, the weight of his presence grounding me, but also unraveling me. The flowers he’d given me sat on the table, delicate and unexpected, just like him.

“Joel,” I whispered, barely able to hear my own voice over the pounding of my heart.

He turned to me, eyes darker than usual, something unreadable flickering in them.

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but before I could, Joel was already moving.

His hand cupped my face, rough fingertips trailing along my jaw, and then his lips were on mine.

This wasn’t a tentative kiss. This wasn’t careful. This was Joel Miller finally giving in, finally letting go of every wall he had built around his heart.

His mouth pressed urgently against mine, and I melted into him, my hands gripping his shirt as if holding on for dear life. His other hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us.

I felt everything in that kiss—every unspoken word, every moment we’d danced around our feelings, every piece of him he’d kept hidden from the world.

When we broke apart, breathless, Joel rested his forehead against mine, his voice rough and low.

“I can’t fight it anymore,” he whispered. “I don’t want to.”

I swallowed hard, my heart aching in the best way. “Then don’t.”

He kissed me again, softer this time, but with the same intensity, the same longing that had always been there—waiting for us to finally stop pretending.

In that moment, I knew. Joel Miller didn’t just care for me.

He loved me.

[meadowfics]

baby its your birthday

cho hyun-ju x f!reader

you pamper your wife for her birthday

warnings: no squid game in this au

the night before hyun-ju’s birthday, she’s quiet.

you notice the slight pout on her lips, the way she sighs a little heavier than usual, but when you ask if something’s wrong, she just shakes her head and smiles.

soft, but clearly forced.

you don’t push, just pulling her into your arms as you lay in bed together.

in reality, she thinks you forgot.

you’ve been busy lately, caught up with work and other responsibilities, and she doesn’t want to seem needy.

she can’t help the small ache in her chest as midnight passes with no mention of her birthday.

however, you were asleep at midnight, she knows that.

you wake up when she’s asleep.

slipping out of bed, you quietly start setting up everything you planned.

a spa day at home, her favorite meals, a cozy movie night...

all of it perfectly catered to her.

in the morning, she wakes up groggy, blinking at the tray of breakfast in bed you’re holding. her eyes widen when she sees the fresh fruit, the warm pastries, the coffee made just the way she likes it.

“happy birthday, my love,”

you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

she blinks a few more times, clearly processing, before her lips tremble into a smile.

“so I see that you remembered.”

she whispers, and your heart aches at the insecurity in her voice.

“of course i remembered,”

you say, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“you really thought i’d forget? today’s all about you.”

after breakfast, you lead her to the bathroom where a warm bath is waiting, infused with calming lavender and rose petals floating on the surface.

she sinks in with a happy sigh, letting you massage her shoulders as she relaxes completely.

once she’s out, you wrap her in the softest baby pink robe, leading her to the living room where you’ve set up a cozy little spa station.

you do her skincare routine for her, gently applying each product with careful attention, even massaging her face lightly.

she melts under your touch.

later, you make her favorite meal for lunch, insisting she just sits and watches while you take care of everything. when she tries to help, you playfully swat her hands away.

“nope, not today. just sit there and look pretty as always.”

the rest of the day is spent in full relaxation.

cuddles on the couch with her favorite movie playing, you running your fingers through her hair, gentle forehead kisses whenever you feel like it.

after spending the whole day pampering hyun-ju, you notice how relaxed she is.

soft smiles, glowing skin, the usual tension in her shoulders completely gone.

you know the day isn’t complete just yet.

as the sun starts to set, you take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

“get dressed, baby. we’re going out,”

you say with a teasing grin, watching her tilt her head in curiosity.

“where?”

she asks, eyes lighting up with interest.

you just shake your head.

“you’ll see.”

hyun-ju changes into a cozy but cute outfit.

an oversized sweater with joggers, hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders.

you take your time admiring her before leading her outside, the evening air crisp but not too cold.

the drive is peaceful, your hand resting on her thigh as you hum along to the soft music playing through the speakers.

she still doesn’t know where you’re taking her, but the moment you pull up in front of the small, family-run korean restaurant she loves, she gasps.

“no way,”

she says, turning to look at you with wide, excited eyes.

“you brought me here?”

you grin, already unbuckling your seatbelt.

“of course i did. you’ve been talking about their kimchi for weeks.”

she practically bounces in her seat before rushing inside, dragging you along with her.

the cozy scent of simmering broths, grilled meat, and fermented spices fills the air the moment you step in.

the owner, an older woman who knows hyun-ju well, immediately beams when she sees her.

“ah, hyun-ju! you brought your partner today?”

the woman asks, sending you a warm, approving smile.

hyun-ju nods eagerly.

"yeah.. its my birthday today and we wanted to come here!"

hyunju beams.

"oh my-- happy birthday sweetheart! you know what, you guys get seated and I'll take care of you. you'll get your free dessert no worries!"

hyun ju and you already scanning the menu even though you both know exactly what she’s going to order.

you just chuckle, letting her take the lead.

when the food arrives, her eyes practically sparkle.

the woman's chopsticks move quickly, picking up a piece of kimchi and popping it into her mouth with a contented sigh.

“this is what heaven tastes like,”

she murmurs, closing her eyes in bliss.

you rest your chin in your palm, just watching her with a fond smile.

“you’re so cute when you eat,”

you tease, earning a playful glare from her.

“stop looking at me like that,”

she mumbles, cheeks turning pink as she takes another bite.

you don’t stop.

instead, you pick up a piece of kimchi yourself and hold it out for her.

she hesitates, glancing around shyly before leaning forward to take it from your chopsticks.

“happy birthday, my love,”

you say softly, watching as she chews happily.

she swallows before reaching across the table to take your hand in hers, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“this is the best birthday ever,”

she murmurs.

later, as you walk out of the restaurant hand in hand, the city lights glowing around you, she leans into your side, her head resting against your shoulder.

“thank you for today,”

she whispers.

you press a kiss to the top of her head, squeezing her hand.

“i’d do this for you every day if i could.”

she sighs in contentment, holding onto you a little tighter as you both walk back to the car, full, happy, and completely in love.

at night, you surprise her with a small cake, candles flickering as you sing softly.

she makes a wish, then immediately pulls you into a tight hug, burying her face in your neck.

“this is the best birthday i’ve ever had,”

she whispers, voice thick with emotion.

you just hold her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“only the best for you, my love.”

masterlist

[simp-for-love]

Looks better on you

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Mattheo lends you his sweater on a cold day without much thinking. But when you keep wearing it, he starts to realize that maybe he doesn’t want it back.

Warnings: none. Pure fluff

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, my lovelies 💕 A bit cliché, but I wanted to post something short and sweet today.

The wind cut through the Hogwarts courtyard with an unforgiving chill, and you regretted your decision to leave your scarf in the dorm. Hugging your arms to yourself, you tried to focus on the conversation around you, but the cold made it really difficult.

Mattheo leaned casually against the stone railing, hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweater, looking completely unbothered by the weather. You weren’t sure how he managed that — maybe pure arrogance was enough to keep him warm.

He was talking to Theo and Enzo about some ridiculous bet they had going, but you weren’t paying much attention, too busy trying to keep yourself from shivering, but too lazy to go to the dorm and dress something warmer. Apparently, though, Mattheo noticed.

Without a word, he pulled his sweater over his head and, before you could even protest, dropped it onto yours.

You blinked. "What—?"

"You’re freezing. Just wear it," he muttered, shaking out his curls.

The wind was still relentless, and as much as your pride wanted you to decline, the warmth from the fabric was already sinking into your skin. The sweater was warm, soft, and — most notably — it smells like him. Hesitantly, you pulled it over your head, and immediately, you were enveloped in his scent — something woodsy with a hint of smoke, like firewhiskey and late-night trouble.

The sleeves were too long, swallowing your hands completely, and when you glanced up, Mattheo was watching you with a smirk tugging on his lips.

"Looks better on you anyway," he said before turning back to the conversation, as if he hadn’t just casually sent your heart into overdrive with his sweet gesture and boyish smirk.

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It was supposed to be temporary. Just until you got back to your dorm. But somehow, you kept wearing it.

It started that evening when you curled up in the common room with a book, still wrapped in the warmth of Mattheo’s sweater. He didn’t say anything about it, just raised an eyebrow as he passed by, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression.

Then it was the next morning at breakfast. You were too tired to notice, but Mattheo definitely did, his usual smirk faltering slightly when he spotted you across the Great Hall.

And then, in the library, when you absentmindedly pulled the sleeve over your fingers while reading a book with focused expression on your face.

By the third day, it had become a thing.

"You do realize that’s mine, right?" Mattheo finally asked, sliding into the seat beside you in Potions.

You glanced down at yourself, feigning innocence. "Oh, is it? I must’ve forgotten."

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Right. You forgot."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ * ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ *

It wasn’t until a few nights later, when you were both sitting by the fire in the common room, that he finally said something real about it.

You were curled up on the couch, absentmindedly tracing patterns into the fabric of his sweater. The fire cast a golden glow over everything, making the room feel warmer than it probably was. Mattheo, lounging in the chair beside you, was watching you — not that you noticed at first.

But when you finally looked up, you caught him staring.

"What?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He didn’t answer immediately. Just tilted his head slightly, a lazy smirk playing at his lips, but there was something softer in his eyes. Something hesitant.

"Nothing," he said at last, voice quieter than usual. "Just thinking I might never get that sweater back."

Your fingers froze against the fabric. The way he said it — it wasn’t teasing, not really. There was something else there, something unspoken.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the weight of his gaze. "Do you… want it back?"

Mattheo studied you for a long moment, then let out a slow exhale, shaking his head slightly with a small smile tugging on his lips.

"No," he admitted. "I think I like it better on you."

And just like that, the warmth in your chest rivaled the fire crackling beside you.

[carbonfiction]

First bloom

Summary: Frank has a moment of vulnerability as he gifts you flowers for the first time.

Happy valentines Besties!! <33

Warnings?: whole lotta fluff really. nothing much to add other than Frank giving reader flowers for the first time and being a little bashful about it. (M' a sucker for a big, gruff, kinda angry man being a sweetheart to the person he loves alright?) possible horrible writing- a girl be struggling..

Pretty obvious buuut with this im adding frankie to my 'will write for' list bc i am, at my very core and before most fixations i ever had, a frank castle girlie.. With that said my normal Logan stuff will remain!! but i thought I'd get this lil thing out while it feels good in my mind and before i make a million changes- writers block has got my ass again but asks are still open!

Masterlist. Words: 1.1k

Franks feet feel heavy in his boots, each step thudding on the concrete. The streets are quiet, winter air crisp and cool as he digs a hand in the pocket of his jeans as he goes. Keep one hand warm and the other? Well.. That one feels pretty cold and yet, strangely, a little clammy at the same time.

In Franks grasp rests a bunch of colourful flowers; lillies, roses, some little delicate buds he doesnt recall the name of for decoration. 'Oh those? Those are called Babys breath frank!' He hopes you'll tell him with a beam later.

The rose thorns prod at his palm, his grip on the bundle of stems tense, but he finds it doesn't hurt the longer he walks. They just.. Ground him slightly as he treads closer to home. Closer to you.

Theres a peace that settles within him in your presence, he finds; one that seems to dim the darkness that swirls in his heart. You ease the ache that so often sits inside him, Never erasing it, no one ever could but.. You lessen it. Always willing to take the weight from his broad shoulders, if only for a little.

And for that? Frank is greatful.

He knows he can be alot; his grumpiness piled almost as high as his baggage. But you dont ever seem to mind.

You embrace him on the days he needs it but cant find it in himself to ask and keep him at arms length when you see in his eyes that being loved feels stifling; its just how life is with him. Yet you do it all with that soft smile and gentle hand, the polar opposite to his rough lines and jagged edges. Keeping him sane on the days when he believes himself to be anything but.

The hand he dug into his pocket seems clammier now as he pulls out his set of keys, the lock clicking open moments later. Its just flowers castle, pull it together he thinks, stepping back into the warm embrace of your apartment. Given girls flowers before for christ sake.

"sweetheart?" he calls out, gruff voice booming through the hall.

You jump slightly at the sound, placing down the wooden spoon that you had been stirring the fragrant pot on the stove with. Voice calling back "in the kitchen!" with a significantly softer tone.

You wait with your body leaning against the counter, observing how the bulk of him rounds the corner. A large arm behind his back; still in his coat. A suspicious rustle of cellophane filling the kitchen as he shifts on his feet, but still you grin at the sight.

"Got everything you needed" he says, hand digging through his coat pocket with various clinks and russles. In his large hand he pulls out a collection of little packets and jars, placing them on the counter. refills of various spices, salts and even a little box of yeast pouches for bread making sit in a heap; things you were running low on earlier.

you beam that perfect smile at him, murmering softly as you step forward, leaning up on your toes to kiss his stubled cheek. "Perfect, thank you frankie"

He accepts the kiss with a soft hum, dipping his head for you to reach.

But still that arm remains behind his back. He almost hopes you dont notice.. But you do, he can tell.

"Uh Frank?.." you start a little cautiously with that same grin, however this time theres a little glint of confusion added as you step back just slightly. "What are you hiding?"

You stew in his silence for a moment, a crease wedging its way back between his brows. Handsome face suddenly filled with... trepidation?

"Frank.." you start again, a little more seriously as you step closer. By now you're fully expecting something bad; that someones been gunning for him again and hes hurt. That there must be blood soaking through his coat and thats why hes hiding.

But as quick as he paused, he sighs, broad shoulders falling just slightly. that same arm once hidden, now outstretched infront of you. The colourful bouquet at eye level as you take it in, a tiny gasp slipping past your lips.

"Frank castle did.." you begin, hand coming to join his on the delicate stems. Your voice is hushed and a little shakey as your eyes scan up and across his face. "Did you buy me flowers?"

His head moves in a little nod, chest puffing out just slightly as he releases his grip; completly surrendering both the flowers and himself.

"Yeah i, uh.." he gruffs, thinking outloud before he stops; practically looking everywhere but at you. The pot on the stove, the cups on the sink, even his boots. Its then he realises that he's almost afraid to see some semblance of rejection in your gaze; that he's missteped or you dont like them. That this sense of peace you wash over him is about to be swept away; wide eyes and incredulous tone not helping his state.

Frank takes another breath, steeling himself; his walls building back up, before he simply settles on a shake of his head and a huff. "Doesn't matter, 's stupid alright"

"No, no its not stupid." you rush out, remaining close as you eye the flowers in your hand and then him again. "They're beautiful frank.."

"Saw em and they reminded me of you so..." he coughs, a large hand scratching at the back of his neck. "thought I'd get em.."

Frank shifts on his feet, stance widening as you suddenly throwing yourself into his arms and grip him tightly; the Boquet landing on the counter seconds before your impact to his chest. You hold him like that for a few quiet moments before you lean back, resting on your tip toes as you cup a rough cheek.

"Thank you.." you whisper softly, honesty pure in your words. A little bashful grin across your lips as you lean up a little higher. "I love them, really. They're perfect"

Frank gazes down at you gently, a finger of his own brushing over your skin as he leans in, kissing you with such unspoken emotion it could knock you off your feet- if he wasnt already keeping you up.

"Yeah sweetheart? Really think they are all that?" he murmers, forehead against yours, the air of unease beginning to slip from your reaction. Enjoying the endearing heat of your gaze.

Your lips meet his in another tender kiss as you press the words against him; though they hold a hidden, deeper meaning. "Yeah Frank.. I really do"

[nickistuffs]

Our First Valentine

Pairing: Harry x Designer reader (curvy or plus size whatever you feel they should look like. This is my preference

Summary: A moment of warmth, understanding, and unspoken love.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: None. Fluff 💗

✨masterlist✨ read the rest of Harry x Designer Reader there

...

Harry had planned everything. He was supposed to be the one to ask you out for Valentine’s Day. He had it all figured out—the flowers, the words, even the slightly nervous but charming smile he’d give you when he asked.

But then, here you were, standing at his doorstep, flipping his plan upside down.

You held a bouquet of pink flowers in your hands, a card tucked neatly between your fingers. Your cheeks were a lovely shade of pink—whether from the cold or from nervousness, he wasn’t sure, but either way, he wanted to reach out and pinch them.

With a deep breath, you shyly extended the bouquet and card toward him. Your voice was soft, but there was determination in it.

“Harry… would you want to be my Valentine?”

For a split second, Harry forgot how words worked. Then, all at once, his brain caught up with him.

“Yes. Absolutely yes. No doubt in my mind,” he blurted out, stepping aside. “Come in—it’s cold out.”

A small, relieved laugh slipped from your lips as you stepped inside. As always, you carefully took off your shoes and placed them neatly by the corner near his, and before you could even think about feeling the cold floor beneath your feet, Harry was already back with a pair of warm, fluffy slippers.

“For you,” he said, looking a little sheepish. “I, um… got these just in case you ever needed them.”

Your heart warmed at the thoughtfulness of it. Slipping them on, you looked up at him with a soft smile. “They’re perfect. Thank you.”

That’s when Harry noticed the card still in his hand. He flipped it open, his eyes scanning over your delicate handwriting:

"Thank you for being my first Valentine. I hope the season of love can prolong with the both of us. Sincerely yours, Y/N."

Harry swallowed hard.

First Valentine.

That made this moment even more special than he had thought.

When he looked up again, you were already watching him, nervously biting your lip as if afraid of his reaction. Without thinking, he pulled you into a tight hug, his chin resting gently on top of your head.

“You have no idea how much I love this,” he murmured.

And you had no idea how much he meant it.

Neither of you wanted a fancy night out. Harry wasn’t fond of the spotlight, and honestly, neither were you.

So instead, here you both were, sitting in front of his fireplace, wrapped up in the same shared blanket, talking about anything and everything while waiting for your dinner delivery to arrive.

The night was easy, filled with laughter, warmth, and little moments that made your heart swell. Harry told you about a ridiculous dream he had the other night, complete with dragons and accidentally showing up to a concert in his pajamas. You shared an embarrassing childhood story in return, one that made Harry laugh so hard he had to wipe away tears.

At one point, he pulled out a box of chocolates, offering you first pick. You grabbed one, but before you could eat it, Harry leaned in.

"Wait—let me guess which one you got," he said, squinting at the chocolate in your hand as if it held some great mystery.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Go on, then."

He hummed, then smirked. "Caramel-filled."

You bit into it, your eyes widening. "...How did you know?"

Harry leaned back, grinning. "I pay attention."

Your heart did a little flip at that.

As the fire crackled beside you, you realized something—this was perfect. This moment, this night, this feeling of just being with Harry. You didn’t need a grand gesture or an extravagant date. Just him.

Just this.

As the night continued, the atmosphere between you both shifted into something softer, something unspoken yet deeply felt.

The way Harry had been looking at you… it made your heart race. His eyes would flicker down to your lips every now and then, but he never made a move, never pushed.

And the thing was… you wanted him to.

You had never really kissed anyone before. Not in a way that mattered. Not in a way that made your chest feel tight with anticipation.

But now, with Harry sitting so close, the warmth of him wrapping around you like a second blanket, the thought wouldn’t leave your mind.

You curled your fingers against your lap, forcing yourself to find the courage. And before you could talk yourself out of it, you turned to face him.

“Harry?”

His gaze snapped to yours instantly, his expression soft yet curious.

“Yeah?”

Your pulse thundered in your ears. You sucked in a breath, steadying yourself.

“Can I kiss you?”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in surprise. He didn’t speak for a moment, and panic started creeping into your chest.

Maybe I shouldn’t have—

“Yes.”

The word was barely above a whisper, but it was full of certainty.

His fingers brushed lightly against your hand, grounding you in the moment.

“You sure?” he murmured. “You don’t have to if—”

“I want to,” you interrupted, surprising even yourself with how firm you sounded. Then, quieter, you admitted, “I just… I’ve never really done this before.”

Harry’s expression softened instantly, something tender flickering in his gaze.

“You haven’t?” he asked, voice laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

You hesitated, but you shook your head. “Not like this.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and Harry noticed.

Not like this.

His brows furrowed slightly, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. But he didn’t need to—because the small squeeze of his hand around yours told you that he understood. That he had caught the weight in your words.

Someone had hurt you before. Maybe not in a grand, obvious way, but enough that this moment—this first real kiss—felt different. Safer.

Harry exhaled softly, his thumb grazing over your knuckles in a soothing motion, grounding you in the present.

“Well,” he murmured, his voice laced with something gentle, something unwavering, “then we’ll take it slow.”

And just like that, the fear melted away.

Harry leaned in slightly, giving you the space to close the distance. Your breath hitched, but you wanted this. Wanted him.

So you closed your eyes and leaned forward, your heart pounding so loudly you swore he could hear it.

At first, it was just the faintest brush of his lips against yours, soft and tentative—an unspoken question, waiting for an answer.

You let out a shaky breath, tilting your face slightly, leaning into him, telling him without words that this was okay. That this was what you wanted.

Harry’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing delicate circles against your skin as he deepened the kiss ever so slightly. His lips were warm, gentle, and patient, moving against yours in a way that made your stomach flutter.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t overwhelming.

It was tender.

It was Harry.

And it was perfect.

The warmth of him, the way he held you like you were something precious—it made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t realized you needed.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other as you caught your breath.

Harry let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

“You beat me to it again, Y/N.”

You blinked at him, still a little dazed. “What?”

He laughed, his thumb still brushing against your cheek. “I was supposed to be the one to kiss you first.”

You giggled, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. “Well… I guess I just couldn’t wait.”

Harry grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into his arms.

And in that moment, he knew—he wouldn’t have it any other way.

...

I wanted a romantic and cheesy kiss, you can't blame a girl.

[goldfades]

ok congrats girl u got me into dbook... could you write a little something about devin being whipped for his girl xo <3

heheh mission ACCOMPLISHED!! my dbook agenda is working. this is such a cute concept i'm obsessed<3 i hope you enjoy!

Devin Booker was whipped.

Not in a pathetic way—not in the way his teammates joked about, calling him soft every time he left the gym early because you called, or the way they side-eyed him when he was on FaceTime mid-road trip, listening to you talk about your day like it was the most important conversation in the world. No, it wasn’t that. It was deeper. Quiet. Engraved into his every movement, into the way he carried you in his mind, in his hands, in his heart.

Because it wasn’t just that he loved you—it was that he liked you. You were his person, his peace, his everything. And everyone around him knew it.

It was in the way he never let your gas tank go below half, even if he had to sneak out at midnight just to fill it up. The way your iced coffee order was saved in his Notes app, down to the extra caramel drizzle because, God forbid, they forget it and ruin your morning. The way he listened—even to the small things. Even to the things you swore he wasn’t paying attention to.

Like today.

You had mentioned—once, in passing—that your favorite bakery had a limited run of some seasonal pastry you used to get as a kid. It was an offhand comment, a memory laced with nostalgia, nothing you expected him to think twice about.

But Devin? Devin heard it.

Which is why, despite practice running late, despite being dead tired and fully capable of sending someone else to pick it up, he found himself standing in a tiny bakery at 7 AM, waiting for them to open because he refused to risk them selling out.

“Man, you are gone,” one of his teammates had laughed when he mentioned it.

And yeah. Maybe he was.

But he didn’t care.

Because seeing your face light up when he handed you that bag, watching you take that first bite, eyes wide with surprise that he even remembered—that was the whole reason he did it. Not for credit. Not for a thank you. But because you were worth it.

You’d always be worth it.

--

You were still curled up on the couch when Devin walked in, the scent of warm, buttery sweetness wafting through the air before you even saw what was in his hand.

He looked too smug, standing there by the door, holding a small brown paper bag with that cocky little smirk playing on his lips. His hoodie was slightly damp at the edges from the early morning chill, and his sweatpants hung low on his hips, like he had barely taken the time to get dressed before running out the door.

“What’s that?” you asked, stretching lazily, still wrapped in the blanket you had dragged from the bedroom.

Devin just shook his head, walking toward you with slow, deliberate steps before plopping down beside you. He handed you the bag, his fingers brushing against yours, warm from the heat of whatever was inside.

“You tell me,” he murmured, watching you expectantly.

Curious, you peeled the bag open, the scent hitting you all at once—something rich, sweet, a little nutty, and somehow nostalgic, even though you hadn’t tasted it yet. You blinked, pulling out the delicate pastry, your breath catching for a second.

No way.

It was exactly what you had mentioned weeks ago, in passing, with no expectation that he would ever remember.

A golden, flakey rozaliak.

Not just any pastry—something so ridiculously specific that you hadn’t even thought about it in years. It was this obscure little Eastern European dessert your grandmother used to buy for you as a kid—made with layers of sweet, honey-soaked dough, filled with walnuts, cinnamon, and the faintest hint of orange zest. It wasn’t something you could just pick up at any bakery. You had offhandedly mentioned that a tiny shop downtown had started selling them, recalling how it was one of the few things that reminded you of childhood winters, sitting in your grandmother’s kitchen, watching her warm them over the stove.

You had said it once.

And here it was.

You looked up at him, eyes wide, fingers still gently holding the pastry like it was too perfect to be real.

“Devin.” Your voice was soft, almost in disbelief. “How did you—”

“You said they were hard to find,” he said simply, leaning back against the couch, stretching his long legs out. “So, I found them.”

You just stared at him, your heart swelling with something indescribable.

“You woke up early for this?”

He shrugged, all nonchalant, like he hadn’t just proven for the thousandth time that he was the most absurdly thoughtful person you knew.

“I mean, yeah. Bakery opens at seven, so I had to be there before they sold out.”

You gaped at him. “Devin.”

“What?” That smirk tugged at his lips again, but this time, there was something softer behind it.

“You—” You exhaled, shaking your head as a slow grin stretched across your face. “You stood in line for this?”

“Only a couple of people were ahead of me,” he said casually. “Not a big deal.”

Not a big deal.

Like it was normal to wake up at the crack of dawn after a late-night practice. Like it was nothing to drive across town, stand in the cold, and wait outside some tiny bakery just to grab a pastry you had once mentioned liking.

You broke off a piece, the flaky layers crumbling slightly between your fingers, and took a bite. The moment the taste hit your tongue—the warm honey, the slight crunch of walnuts, the soft, citrusy hint of orange—you swore you could feel your childhood come back to life.

You let out an involuntary, contented hum, your eyes fluttering shut for a second.

Devin chuckled beside you. “That good, huh?”

You turned to him, still chewing, and without thinking, you grabbed his wrist and pressed the pastry into his hand. “You have to try this.”

He hesitated for a split second—because he wasn’t much of a sweets guy—but then he let you guide his hand, taking a small bite where your fingers had just been.

He chewed, his expression unreadable for a moment before he nodded slowly. “Damn.”

“Right?”

He huffed out a laugh, licking a stray crumb off his bottom lip before leaning in, close enough that his voice was just for you. “See? I know what I’m doing.”

You shook your head, grinning, your heart aching in the best way.

“You are so whipped for me,” you murmured, teasing but utterly affectionate.

Devin didn’t even hesitate.

“Yeah, I am.” His voice was soft, sure. No denial, no defense. Just the simple, easy truth.

Because he was. And he’d do it all again tomorrow, just to see you smile like that.

[bananielle]

PRETTY IN PINK ♡ byun euijoo

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ in which juju takes you to a lingerie shop for valentine’s day and really loves what he sees.

genre smut 2.3k words warnings soft dom juju. female anat for reader. nipple play. oral (f. receiving). fingering. cum eating. open ending (?). proofread a coupe times but if i missed something. ignore it thank u <3

💌 . . . a little special something for my kochanie’s birthday @ofyourwarmth and valentine’s day ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა 💗 🌸 🩰 ♡

“What do you think of this one, baby?” you ask as you push aside a thick, berry-pink velvet curtain to show your boyfriend the silk slip you had just thrown on. It was the lightest shade of blush pink, with intricate lace detailing along a sweetheart neckline, the straps thin but sturdy. It clung to your figure perfectly, highlighting every curve and dip of your body.

You inch closer to the plush couches your boyfriend is seated on and stop in front of him to give him a few twirls. “Hm? What do you say, Juju?” you ask sweetly, a glimmer of excitement in your eyes.

For a short moment, Euijoo simply looks up at you through his curtain of fluffy, coffee-brown hair.

“It’s perfect, yn. Just perfect”, he says very softly, almost in awe. He shifts a little, as if he’s suddenly gotten uncomfortable. You notice he has one of the heart-shaped pillows that decorated the sitting area placed in his lap, one hand gripping it rather tightly. Strange, you think. It hadn’t been there earlier.

You then take in his odd expression, something between pain and desire. His words didn’t seem out of the ordinary, so you brush his other perplexing tells aside. Maybe he's just tired, you think. The soft, warm jazz music playing through the speakers of the shop must have relaxed him. He was so patient, bless him, spending so much time with you here already, listening to every bubbly, excited string of words you let out if you really loved a set, watching as you tried on every item of the gigantic pile you had accumulated while browsing the racks and shelves.

“Don’t worry, I’m almost done! I’ve got two more pieces to show you and then we can go. I’ll be so quick, promise!” you reassure him with a beaming smile, then hop over and plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. The faintest blush blooms across his face, which he tries to hide by ducking his head, but fails. “You’re too cute, Juju baby”, you coo, giggling as you skip away back to the dressing room.

You didn’t have to bother about closing the heavy curtain all the way, as you and Euijoo were the only people in this area of the shop, save for two older ladies. It was late, just before closing hours, the city just beginning to sleep.

The dressing room was quite large, even though it didn’t seem like it from the outside. The boutique itself was very fancy, covered in shades of pink ranging from ballet slippers to magenta. Velvet fabrics and gold detailing decorated every inch of the place, including the dressing rooms. There was a full length, wide mirror with a gilded frame hanging on the wall opposite the curtain, and soft, warm yellow lights washed over the space. A small pink and gold clothing hanger stood on the left side of the room. It was nothing short of luxurious, which was no surprise when it came to Euijoo. You’re his princess after all, and he'll treat you as such. You deserve nothing less than luxurious, especially for Valentine’s Day. He wanted to make you feel extra pampered today.

You stand before the clothing hanger, examining the sets you still needed to try on. You had mostly picked out nightgowns, except for two items, which were the last ones hanging. A tiny butterfly erupts in your stomach as you look at them. Both were pink, of course, one a darker shade than the other, but they were both very suggestive. Certainly more suggestive than a nightgown. You had slipped them past Euijoo when he wasn’t looking, wanting to surprise him. Another butterfly comes to life at the simple thought of him, and you begin to grow more excited. He surprised you with your trip here today, and it’s only right for you to return the favor.

You stand in front of the mirror, taking one last look at the slip dress to figure out if you really wanted to buy it. After a couple seconds of thought, you decide to put it in the “yes” pile. Carefully, you shimmy out of the fabric, place it on its hanger, and lay it down gently in one of the three neat piles on the little bench opposite the rack.

You grab the lighter pink set and slip it on, a bit hastily to your surprise. You suddenly feel more giddy than you had the entire day. Euijoo would love this one, you think to yourself.

You admire the girly set on yourself before stepping out. It was all lace, and consisted of a sweetheart bra and panties decorated with frilly ruffles around the waistband, enough to make it appear like the tiniest low-rise skirt ever. It was innocent and filthy all at once and you adored it. You tousle your hair and fiddle with the outfit one last time before sucking in a deep breath and giving yourself a secret smile in the mirror. You peek your head through the opening in the curtain to check if the women from earlier had gone, and lucky for you, they had. You practically skip out of the dressing room towards Euijoo.

He’s in the same spot, with the same pillow laid in his lap, lost in thought while tracing slow circles onto the fabric. He must’ve not heard your soft steps, because it’s only when you’re nearly knee to knee and you clear your throat that he looks up at you.

“So, what do you think about this one? I think it’s my favorite! Don’t you just love the detailing? It’s so pretty!” you exclaim, beaming from ear to ear. Euijoo is quiet for a few moments, gazing at you with doe-like eyes. He feels his breath catch in his throat. Slowly, he rakes his eyes up and down your body, then back again, drinking in the sight of you.

“Juju?” your soft voice pulls him out of his trance, just barely.

“Y-yeah?” he whispers, his voice raspy, almost like it hurt to speak. He didn’t meet your eyes, but kept his gaze on the lace bra that pushed your tits up so prettily; they were completely unmarked, smooth and clean, and suddenly Euijoo itched to change that.

You tilt your head to the side and study him, a quirk in your brow. What’s gotten into him?

Euijoo abruptly stands, throwing the heart-shaped pillow to the side. He towers over you, and up close, you can see his dilated pupils, his eyes filled with want. You swear you can hear his heart beating a million times per second.

“You’re kind of scaring me, baby…what’s wrong with you?”

“You l-look…you just look so beautiful, doll”, he whispers softly. He reaches a delicate hand out to your cheek, his thumb stroking it gently. “My pretty angel”, he coos, eyes wide and sparkling. He leans in, his lips just a whisper from yours. “Can I kiss you?”

And he asks so softly, so sweetly, you think you might melt on the spot.

“Mm-hmm,” you hum in response, a dopey smile spreading across your face as you stand on tiptoe to close the distance between you two. The kiss starts slow and tender, as they always do. Euijoo was a gentle kisser, preferring to take his time with you, savouring every moment, no matter how fleeting it was. But then something shifted, and the kiss grew hungrier, more desperate. His tongue slides into your mouth without warning, tangling itself with yours, and the quietest whimper escapes him. His hands find themselves tangled in your hair, tugging strands with little restraint. They glide down the length of your body until they reach your hips, where he presses your body into his.

You feel something thick and hard pressing against the fabric of his jeans. A gasp escapes your lips, breaking the kiss. With flushed cheeks and messy hair you gape at your boyfriend, blinking at him slowly.

Once you slightly regain your composure, you look at him, sleepy-eyed and say, “I take it you like this one. Couldn’t handle me in all these pretty outfits could you, Juju?” you breathe out, the tiniest smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Promise when we get home I’ll give you what you want. You can even pick out my outfit from the ones I buy, mkay? They’re closing soon and I’ve still got another set to try on.”

“No, now” he says, with an urgency and sternness in his voice you’ve never heard before. Before you can protest, he’s intertwined his hand in yours and is dragging you to the dressing room, swiftly closing the curtain behind him. His lips find yours again, his hands roaming every inch of your body.

“But–but people will hear. It’s only a curtain” you manage to squeak out between kisses.

“It’s a thick curtain”

“Euijoo-”

He goes still for a moment, then cups your face gently. “You always like giving me what I want, right darling? Hm?” he asks softly.

You nod slowly. How could you ever say no to him? You don’t even know who you were trying to fool. You wanted him, bad, and the possibility of someone hearing you have him just made everything more thrilling.

“Good”, he gives you a soft smile. “Nobody will catch us, doll, I promise” he says lowly. The way he spoke so seductively made you feel faint and weak in the knees — you’d never get over his pretty voice or the way he looked at you with so much desire in his eyes.

He kissed you again, this time slow and deep while he presses your back against the mirror. A quiet gasp escapes your lips at the ice cold feeling against your exposed skin. Euijoo uses the small pause in the kiss to let his lips wander elsewhere — they linger on every inch of skin he can find. He presses gentle pecks to your eyelids and nose, and leaves open-mouthed kisses to your neck that’ll soon turn into tiny purple blooms.

He stops just before your breasts, taking his time with sliding down the straps of your top gently until they spill out for him. “So pretty, doll. You’re so pretty” he whispers, before letting his tongue circle around a perky bud.

Your back arches at the sensation, aching for more. Euijoo runs a soothing hand up and down the length of your spine, immediately catching on to your needs. His mouth answers to every tiny jolt of your body, every small breath or gasp that leaves your lips until you’re sure the marks left would last for days.

It felt amazing, but you quickly needed his mouth elsewhere.

“Juju—” you plead, tugging at his hair. He doesn’t even need to look at you, doesn’t need you to say another word before he lets go of your breast with a pop and presses feather light kisses down your stomach before stopping above the line of your panties.

He gazes up at you with glossy eyes and shiny, parted lips. “Spread your legs a bit for me, love”, he instructs softly, his warm hands resting on your thighs.

A whisper of a kiss here, a kitten lick there, Euijoo goes painfully slow before giving you just what you want. You let out a small groan, pulling at more strands of his hair. All he does is chuckle softly while slowly propping one of your legs onto his shoulder. With his other hand, he carefully pushes your panties to the side.

Euijoo nearly moans at the sight of your pussy. “God, angel, so eager for me, hm? Let me take care of you” he says sweetly before licking up and down your folds.

“Please, Juju”, you gasp, your hips bucking upwards, desperately trying to get closer to his mouth. He keeps a firm hand on your thigh, making sure it’s stable on his shoulder before letting himself fully have you.

He indulges himself in you — his warm mouth tending to your aching cunt so perfectly; he flits back and forth between quick strokes of his tongue and long, lazy open-mouthed kisses to your clit.

Every touch of his drives you closer and closer to the edge, your moans growing filthier. Euijoo’s own pleasure starts to grow, his cock twitching at every lewd sound you make.

“Fuck, Juju” you breathe out, and you say his name so pretty, so dirty, he can’t help but moan himself, the low vibration against your cunt sending another shot of pleasure through your body. You grip his shoulder to stay upright.

“‘M so close, baby. Please” you say, “w-wanna cum”. Your leg tightens around his shoulder, your body aching to be as close as possible to him.

Euijoo listens. He slips two long, slender fingers into your cunt, curling them just so. He wraps a strong, sturdy arm around your waist, holding you carefully.

“I know, baby, I know” he coos, looking up at you with soft eyes at your blissed out state, fingers continuing to pump in and out of you. Their pace quickens, and you nearly cry out at the pleasure.

“Ah! - fuck. G-gonna cum, Juju”, you barely manage to gasp out. His mouth finds your clit, sucking on the swollen bud while his tongue swirls around it. One more pump from his fingers has you unraveling, crying out his name while your cum paints his mouth.

“Fuck, baby. That’s it” Euijoo says, lapping up every last drop of your juices. You look down at him, slightly dizzy and still shaking from your high. Your hands cup his flushed cheeks softly.

“Open up,” he says, and you obey, letting him slide his two sticky fingers past your lips. You swirl your tongue around them, tasting yourself. You let them go with a pop.

“You did so good for me, angel” he soothes, his hands running up and down your hips tenderly. “My beautiful girl. But I’m not finished with you just yet”

He stands, giving you a tender kiss before suddenly turning you around so you’re face to face with yourself in the mirror. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear before whispering in your ear.

“I want you to see how pretty you look when I fuck you”

💌 . . . [insert member here] version coming soon hehe <3

[aprito]

saddest man in suna the yearning does not stop even when she's right next to him

[hanasnx]

“ SHE JUST WENT TO HEAVEN AND BACK ” — clark kent.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ sexual content: riding dick ノ playing dumb for a boy ノ some light humping ノ reader has kinda long hair ノ size difference.

you’re so desperate for clueless CLARK KENT’s attention that you play dumb and get him to mansplain his video game to you while you sit in his lap. he’s been busy lately and to get him to take the hint you wear one of your shortest skirts, invite yourself into the best seat in the house, and ask, “what’s this?” gesturing to his lit tv screen.

he explains it all, some boring lore he’s really into and the controls and the tricky part he’s stuck on right now.. and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. his pretty girl is sitting in his lap and he’s not even paying it any mind. but clark is paying it mind. he’s rambling bcos he’s nervous, and if you’d turn your head you’d see the pink dusting his cheeks. he can feel your bare thighs through his denim, and your floral shampoo fills his nose… he trails off mid sentence when he focuses too hard on the growing interest in his pants.

“i wanna play.” you say when you’ve had enough of his aimless babble, and without thinking it through, clark places the controller snugly in your palms, while his larger hands overlay yours.

“alright, so this button…” his thumb atop yours presses down in a click, and you see the avatar swipe air with his sword because of it. “is your attack move… and this—“ you’re not paying any attention to what he’s teaching you. instead, your brain conjures up evil memories of everything you’ve been missing. your eyes wander to the corner of his bed he’s sitting on, and you wish he’d fold you over on it like before. wrestle you down and pin you so he could flip your little skirt up and get to work. you’re tuning out his words while he’s playing the game over your hands which dampen with sweat, suddenly hot and bothered at the thought of him fucking you in this position… if only he were brave enough to unbuckle his pants.

your lips press together, your heart rate quickens, and clark’s ears perk up. thump thump… thump thump… thump thump…

he inhales sharply, right as the sting of what it feels like to be filled by him shoots up your core like lightning. you jump in place a little at the cruel trick your mind is playing on you, and the friction of your ass bumping against his halfie makes it twitch as it chubs up. the avatar’s HP lowers little by little as its enemies overwhelm it, but neither of you move.

“why didn’t you say anything?” clark’s breathless words come out husky and sultry as he chuffs them out of his teeth, lifting you up and down by your hips like you’re nothing more than a weight at the gym. your hands lay atop his, twisting your face as that cock buries itself right where you needed it, bullying that spongy spot in you sore from neglect. “i’ve been thinking about you, too…” he fills the silence, paired with the wet sounds of an eager pussy swallowing him up. he yanks you back, and you land on his chest still clothed, your hair bunches up on his shoulder while his lips find your ear. your hips now married with his, he rolls yours, screwing his dick into you like he’s rediscovering all your nooks n crannies.

one arm rounds you to secure you against him in a warm embrace, seeking out your clit between your spread legs, toying with it like taffy and it makes you whine.

“you didn’t have to act like you cared about my game,” he’s taunting you, right in your ear, ending it with a gentle nip of his teeth to your shell. the point of his canine sends a shock through you, and your legs straighten involuntarily. he keeps you where he wants you with overpowering strength, you can’t raise yourself when he’s got you in a vice. his thumb and index feel cruel against your bud, as if chastising you for trying to trick him.

“well, it worked, didn’t it?” you exhale, leisurely squirming against him desperate for some movement. there’s pride in your voice.

“this skirt worked.” he corrects. the skirt now bunched up around your waist about the same time he’d pushed his denim out of the way so he could free his cock and give you a new seat. “could hear your heartbeat, you were so obvious… c’mere.” he grants your wish for more, pushing you forward so he could gather your arms behind you. bent, your feet barely toe the ground while he uses your wrists to leverage you, tugging you back while he bounces you up with the force of his hips.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Wondering ♡

♡ Pairings: frat boy!mingi x chubby!fem!librarian!reader

♡ Genre: angst/fluff/smut

♡ Summary: While working your job at the campus library you find that the most popular guy on campus has developed quite the crush on you. Thinking that it's some sort of prank, you dismiss him completely but Mingi has his heart set on making you his and isn't content to give up that easily.

♡ Word Count: 4.5k-ish

♡ Warnings: mingi really develops a thing for chubby girls, reader has body insecurities, body worship, kissing, male masturbation, porn, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, a lil hair pulling, a lil rough sex for a sec, technically cum marking, pet names (baby), but otherwise fluffy

♡ A/N: This is a fic I wrote for a super adorable anon and as always I'm super honored that you even asked me to write this my love. I truly hope that I did your idea some justice and you enjoy it. To all the chubby babes out there who may read this, you're a bad bitch, I swear to you, and if anyone tells you otherwise I'll swing on em. Kay, love you, bye - xoxo

Nothing. Mingi strokes his cock—his palm gliding up and down his length, his thumb circling the rim—and he feels absolutely nothing. Lying in the darkness of his bedroom, the warm glow of light emanating from his phone illuminates the frustration on his face. His gaze lazily dances across the screen where a woman lies naked, a sex toy vibrating between her thighs. She’s in his favorite position, making his favorite noises, but he can’t get off on it.

Giving up, he lets out a groan, throwing his head back on his pillow. It’s been weeks of this. He’s been too horny to function but when the time of action comes he can only get halfway hard and nothing feels the same as it used to. Maybe a different video will help. Bringing his phone in close to his face, he scrolls through the recommended videos. His cock still in his hand, he feels it soften into a sad, floppy thing the further down he scrolls.

Just as he’s about to call it a night, prepared to at last put himself out of his misery, something catches his eye. An image of a naked woman spread across a bed, her plush body fully exposed. She’s bigger than other girls he’s seen naked in porn, even in real life. She’s chubby and soft with shimmering gloss on her lips and stretch marks on her thighs. His breath hitches at the sensation of the blood rushing down his length as he takes her in.

His interest officially piqued, he clicks into the video and watches her in action. He’s hypnotized by the way she bounces and jiggles, every motion of her body too perfect to comprehend. The skin pulls tight around his cock, beads of arousal rolling down the tip as he quickens his movements. His bottom lip catches between his teeth, an attempt at choking back the low groans fighting their way up his throat at the sight of juices moistening the woman’s soft thighs.

Seeing her hits him with a rush of something unfamiliar. Something that has his stomach muscles contracting and his mouth watering. His mind goes wild with thoughts of what it’d be like to touch her, to feel her body trembling against his. What he wouldn’t give right now to grip a belly like that or drag his tongue across the plush of her ass. It’s exhilarating, unlike anything he’s ever felt before. His cock grows so sensitive that he’s twitching with every stroke. 

Any care for if his roommates can hear him flies out of the window as a dizzying heat washes over him, the veins along his length throbbing as a waterfall of white shoots up onto his stomach. His phone drops onto the bed and he lets out a pitiful whimper, his eyes clung shut as he gives in to an orgasm so strong it makes his muscles weak. He’s so high from it that he fears he’ll never come down. Breathless, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, he sits up in bed and flicks the light on to see what a mess he’s made of himself.

His eyes drift back to his phone where a suggestion for a similar video calls him. He takes a deep breath, feeling his cock stiffening again so soon. Mingi picks his phone up, his thumb hovering over the Next button. It’s 3am and in a few hours Yunho will be banging on his door to go to football practice. He should get his shit together, clean himself off, and go to sleep. But that rush was so unexpected, so utterly delicious. He slips back down into bed, hitting the Next button. He needs more.

“Whoa, there’s so many books here” Mingi gasps, staring up at the tall cherry wood shelves of the sprawling library. 

Mingi’s seen this place in pictures before—this marble palace with its sky high shelves and expertly crafted pillars—but in all his years on campus he’s never stepped foot in it. Nothing in this literary maze ever interested him enough to require a visit. His college career has always depended more on athletics and frat politics than it has books.

Most of his professors were more than content to give him a passing grade simply because of who he is. A stroke of luck that ran out the moment a new Women’s Studies professor stepped foot on campus. She’s set out to challenge him, to make him work for his grades if he actually wants them. A true tragedy if he’s ever been faced with one. 

“Duh, it’s full of books. It’s literally a library” Yunho laughs, plopping a small stack of books into Mingi’s arms. “I grabbed everything you need except one. The Vagina Monologues. You’re gonna have to go ask one of the librarians for help.” 

Mingi winces at the thought of the title leaving his lips and falling on a complete stranger’s ears, “Why’d it have to be called that?”

“Oh, stop being a child” Yunho huffs, catching a glimpse of a young woman pushing a cart of books past the aisle. “There! Go ask her!”

Mingi hesitates a moment but Yunho shoves him forward, “Off you go.” 

Stumbling his way down the aisle, Mingi traces the sound of squeaky cart wheels a few rows over, stopping dead in his tracks when his gaze finds the woman pushing it. She wears a flowy, pear colored dress with white lilies printed all over it. It’s long enough not to scandalize the other library staff but short enough to get a glimpse of where her thighs begin to kiss. From behind Mingi can clearly make out her shape in it, the plushness of her figure bringing to mind things he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about in the library. 

Humming along to a song in her head, she turns to place a book on one of the shelves and Mingi’s cheeks begin to burn. She’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. He’s said that about a lot of girls and never meant it but with this one it’s different. She has eyes that twinkle like sunshine dancing on the surface of some gorgeous lake. The curve of her nose is nothing short of perfection and her lips look like they taste of the sweetest sugar. 

“Can I help you with something?” you ask. The way he stares at you makes you feel more like an animal in some zoo than the object of his affection.

Mingi shakes himself out of his daze, lowering the stack of books down to cover the slight rise in his jeans. “Uh…I…yeah…um” he stutters. 

“Uh, I, yeah, um?” you tease, grabbing another book and sliding it onto a nearby shelf, “I don’t think we have that one.” 

“Who are you?” he spits out as if that’s a completely normal question to ask someone when you’re the one who approached them. 

“That’s a really weird question to ask someone, Mingi.”

“Wait, you know me?”

You giggle at the absurdity of such a question, “Of course I know you. Everyone knows you.” 

Mingi thinks about it for a second, the reality of his popularity setting back in. “I guess you’re right. I am pretty popular.”

The grin on his face makes you nauseous. Of course you know him. And of course he doesn’t know who you are. Mingi’s from a whole different world and you’re positive girls like you don’t exist where he comes from. Rolling your eyes, you grab back onto the handle of your cart, “If there’s nothing you need…” 

“Vagina!” he says, leaving you both stunned to the core, “I mean, monologues. Vagina Monologues. It’s, like, a book or whatever. Fuck it, are you busy tonight?” 

A whisper of laughter drifts down the aisle, giving away Yunho’s presence. He’s never seen his best friend crash and burn this hard. Keeping a straight face isn’t an option. Yunho’s laughter may not be meant for you but it feels like it is. The first time a guy like Mingi talks to you and of course it had to be a joke. 

“Second floor, in the Plays section, under E for Ensler” you snap, turning your back before you die of embarrassment right before Mingi’s eyes. 

“Wait, can I at least get your name?” Mingi calls out but you’re already pushing your cart down the aisle, disappearing around the next corner without another word. 

Yunho slaps a hand on Mingi’s shoulder, shaking his head in disappointment, “Who’s your new friend?”

Mingi sighs longingly, his gaze still lingering where you once stood, “I don’t know but I plan to find out.” 

Sometimes when you find yourself working nights at the library you feel like Cinderella. A slave to these old dusty books, forced to clean and organize them until your manicure begins to chip while other girls are out at bars or parties. Only there’s no fairy godmother to come wave her magic wand and turn your pumpkin into a carriage. There’s no glass slipper and certainly no Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet.

Still, you need the extra money so there’s nothing to be done about it. Taking a seat at the front desk you check the time, it’s almost time to close up shop and the last few stragglers are packing up their things to head out. Once they’re gone things should be peaceful. No questions, no interruptions, no one getting on your nerves. 

“Have you been avoiding me?” Mingi asks, popping up in front of your desk. 

“Oh my god!” you gasp, clutching your chest, “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Kill you? How could I ever hurt a girl as pretty as you?” he says in that cocky tone you’ve become accustomed to. 

It’s been weeks since your first run in with Mingi and he’s been relentless ever since. He stops by every shift to ask you some silly question that somehow always turns into yet another attempt at flirting with you. You shoot him down every single time but he never seems offended or discouraged. He just keeps coming back all bright eyed and full of energy like a golden retriever. You’ve gone home every night wondering what his motivations are. Why’s he being so persistent? 

Sometimes for the hell of it you let yourself play with the idea that he might actually be attracted to you. Mingi is drop dead gorgeous after all and, even though you refuse to laugh at any of his stupid jokes, you find him pretty charming. For all his cockiness, he’s sweet in a way that makes you wonder what it might be like to be truly adored by a guy like him. This little fantasy of yours is always disrupted by the vision of Yunho laughing at the two of you. It’s a joke, that’s all, a stupid joke that Mingi’s cruel for not knowing when to give up on. 

“Aren’t you sick of coming here?” you ask, pretending to be busy on the laptop, “There must be something else you can entertain yourself with.”

Mingi smiles down at you, fawning over how your skin glows in the shreds of sunset that peek through the windows. “There is actually. I’m having a party tonight and I want you to come.”

Your eyes shoot open, an involuntary burst of joy hitting you. “A party?” you ask, sounding more excited than you intended to. Catching yourself, you reel back the excitement but it’s too late, Mingi’s already caught it. 

“Yeah, a party” he says, reaching behind the desk to grab a pen and a sticky note. He scribbles down the address and sticks it to your laptop screen. “Tell me you’ll come.”

He sounds so genuine when he says that. It’s almost as if he’s truly desperate to have you around. You look up at his face and feel the butterflies in your stomach go into a frenzy. You’ve heard the way other girls talk about him, the way they swoon over him like he’s this magical thing. You don’t want to be one of them, just another girl pining after Song Mingi but here you are. 

You clear your throat, snatching the blue sticky note from your screen, and putting it aside. “I don’t really know if I wanna spend my Friday night with a bunch of wasted pretty boys.”

“Ooh, so you do think I’m pretty” Mingi blushes, batting his eyelashes. 

You pick up a stapler, threatening to throw it at him, “Leave now and maybe, just maybe I’ll consider coming to your little party.”

Mingi throws his hands up, carefully backing away from the desk, “Fair enough. I’m wearing all black by the way. In case you wanted to, ya know, match or something.”

You wind your arm back, placing it in perfect formation to hit him in the head with the stapler. Mingi gets the message and scurries out of the door, leaning his head back in for a split second to whisper, “See you later, beautiful.” He winks at you and you groan but he’s gone now and there’s no one left to take your anger out on.

As the last few visitors trickle out you find yourself sitting in the silence of the library, that blue sticky note calling your name. You pick it up, swearing you’ll toss it in the trash but you only stare at it, reading the address over and over again. Some stupid frat party with a bunch of stupid boys at some frat house on the edge of campus. Why would you ever waste your time going to something like that? And who does he think he is insinuating that you’d even want to match with him? Anyway, you only have one good black dress and you’re sure it doesn’t even fit anymore. It isn’t even worth trying…is it?

“I’m telling you, this girl’s gorgeous and she’s super smart too. She knows everything about books and stuff, like, you can ask her anything and she just knows” Mingi rambles, grabbing another beer from the fridge. 

“Because it’s her job” Yunho teases, leaning against the kitchen counter. 

Mingi pops the beer open, flicking the metal top into a nearby trash can, “And how did she get that job? Because she’s smart.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen him like this over a girl…ever” Jongho says, stealing Mingi’s beer for himself.

“Well I think it’s cute. Mingi’s got a girlfriend” Wooyoung sings, making cute little hearts with his fingers.

“She’d be his girlfriend if she didn’t hate his guts” Yunho mumbles half heartedly. 

Mingi gasps, taking offense to that, “She doesn’t hate me, she just hasn’t fully warmed up to me yet but she will.”

He looks around the kitchen and his friends all eye him skeptically. Mingi didn’t say that with nearly enough confidence for them to believe him and the truth is that he barely believes himself but how does he tell his friends that? He’s the one who girls drool over. He’s never the one doing the drooling. He has a reputation at stake and here he is ruining it for a girl who probably won’t even show up tonight. But he can’t bring himself to give up on you yet. 

That first night after he met you he couldn’t get you out of his head. He kept imagining that face, that body, under him, on top of him, next to him. Just the thought of you made him hard enough that touching himself was mandatory to ease his need for you. And the more he showed up to bug you the more fascinating he came to find you.

Yes, you were snippy but never enough to directly chase him away. You let him stick around long enough for glimmers of your true personality to show. You’d made the terrible mistake of showing him how sweet you could be, how funny of a girl you are, and it only made things worse for both of you. More than having sex with you he wants to kiss you and hold your hand. He wants to tell you how pretty you are and not have you threaten him with a blunt object for it. 

“Not to be that guy but when did you start liking…ya know?” Jongho says, hoping that the others will know what he means without it coming off rude.

“Chubby girls?” Wooyoung asks, making Yunho almost choke on his beer. 

“You can’t just say that” Yunho coughs, grabbing a paper towel to wipe the beer from his lips. 

Mingi’s eyes narrow, the question not quite setting right with him, “What does it matter?” 

“I mean, it…it doesn’t. I swear it doesn’t” Jongho stammers, looking anywhere but at Mingi. 

Wooyoung shrugs, coming to Jongho’s rescue, “In his defense, we’ve never seen you with one. She’s not your usual type.”

“So, what? Just cause she’s not my ‘type’ it has to be weird?” Mingi presses. 

No one says anything, not a solitary word. They only stare at the doorway, their faces drained of any color. In the next room a party rages, in the kitchen an argument is ready to erupt, and there you stand in between the two hearing something you shouldn’t have at a time you shouldn’t have heard it. 

“Hmm, well, thank you for that. I’m so happy everyone knows what I already did” you say, laughing to avoid tears, “Thank you for the invite, Mingi. Really.” 

Something’s said, you’re sure it’s by Mingi, but you can’t hear it. You’ve gone numb to everything. Even the music blaring from the speakers a few feet from you feels like it’s playing from miles away. Desperate to outrun the tears stinging the corners of your eyes, you rush through the crowd of partiers in the living room and make your way outside.

The autumn air blows against your cheeks, cooling your tears as they begin to escape. You wipe them away, doing your best to look normal as you pass people headed into the party, but you can’t seem to stop them from falling. You feel so stupid for ever believing that Mingi’s feelings for you were anything but a joke he could laugh about with his friends. His words ring in your ears as you approach your car, frantically digging through your purse for your keys. Not his type? Well he isn’t yours either. You’ve never been too fond of assholes anyway. 

“Shit” you hiss, the keys in your hand tumbling from your grasp the second you pull them out. You bend down to pick them up but someone snatches them away before you can. You spin around to find Mingi standing there, your keys jingling away as they twirl around his fingers. 

“Give them back” you demand, grabbing for your keys but he holds them up high just out of your reach. 

“You’re crying” he says and you can almost see his heart shatter, “Come back inside.”

“Why? So you and your friends can make fun of me to my face this time?” you ask, still fighting for your keys back but to no avail. 

Mingi frowns, “Make fun of you? We weren’t making fun of you. I’d never let anyone do that to you.” 

“So, what? Just cause she’s not my type it has to be weird?” you mock, feeling childish but justified considering the circumstances. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant that just because I’ve dated smaller girls that doesn’t mean I can’t like you and I do. I really, really like you” he swears, “I love your body. I think it’s beautiful. Everything about you…I’m just obsessed with and all I wanna do is show you how special you are but you won’t let me and I don’t understand why.”

Folding your arms across your chest, you stand on the sidewalk staring at Mingi like you hate him but it’s not him that you hate. It’s the fact that you believe him. The tears have slowed now but your cheeks are still wet, black streaks of mascara beginning to run down your face. You drop your head, embarrassed by your mini breakdown, and Mingi swoops in, giving you a chest to lay your head on. His long arms wrap around you, locking behind your back to keep you close. It’s your instinct to pull away but his embrace is too comforting and warm to abandon. 

“If you want me to leave you alone forever I promise I will. I’ll let you go and you’ll never have to see me again” he whispers, “But if you stay I promise I’ll be good to you.” 

Your stomach sinks at the thought of never seeing him again. Day after day all you’ve done is tell him to leave you alone but it never occurred to you how much it’d hurt if he actually did. “I don’t want you to leave me alone” you admit, your face emerging from the black abyss of his shirt, “That’s, like, the exact opposite of what I want you to do.”

Mingi cups your face, his thumb stroking the curve of your cheek, “Good because I wasn’t actually gonna leave you alone. How can I when you look like this? You’re even a pretty crier. How’s that possible?”

You’ve always managed not to blush when Mingi’s said things like this—at least not when he’s around—but you don’t stop yourself this time. You don’t even make the tiniest attempt at hiding how utterly giddy you are over his comments. 

“Ooh, is that a smile I see?” he gasps, immediately making you regret it. You motion to hit him in the arm but he grabs you by the wrist, slipping his hand into yours as he leads you back towards the house. “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll clean you up then we can talk more, okay?”

Mingi looks back at you and you could swear that time stands still. This isn’t where you thought you’d be on a Friday night, walking through a frat party hand in hand with one of the most popular guys on campus—with Mingi. He’s guiding you up the stairs, looking at you like you’re the prettiest girl in the world and for the first time, somewhere deep down inside, you’re beginning to feel like it. 

Before you left the house tonight you swore that you wouldn’t become some frat party cliche. Mingi’s hot, there’s no doubt about it, but there was no way you’d wind up bent over some bed with your panties around your ankles.

You were actually right about that. You’re not bent over some bed, you’re laying across it, and your panties aren’t around your ankles, they’re tossed off to the side of the bed, blending in with the pile of black clothing you collectively shed before you found every inch of Mingi’s cock stuffed inside of you. You came up here to talk, that was it, and in your defense you did talk. You were vulnerable with each other, you opened up about your feelings, and the next thing you knew your tongues were so far in each other’s mouths that you could feel it in your throats. 

Mingi’s kiss is sweeter than you imagined. It’s the kind of kiss you could get lost in it. Even now, after he’s been kissing your lips raw for the last half hour, you find yourself wanting more. You’re so wrapped up in him, so completely consumed by the ecstasy of having him inside of you, that you aren’t even focused on the fact that you’re naked. You can’t begin to care if you look good or not when your body’s flush with heat, feeling the best it has in your entire life.

But you do look good. Nothing in Mingi’s wildest dreams could compare to how beautiful your body actually is. His hands explore your curves, discovering those spots he knows will come to be his favorites. That squishy belly of yours that pokes out just a bit more when he massages your sides. Those pillowy thighs that seem even thicker when he presses them to your chest. Those breasts that bounce softly against his face while he’s sucking at your bud.

“You’re so fucking amazing, baby” Mingi whispers, licking his way over the hills of your breasts to bring his lips to yours. “I do have a type. You know it’s you, right?”

“Is that so?” you tease, trembling at every stroke of his cock between the slickness of your walls. You run your fingers through his hair, your back arching against the mattress so much that you’re sure you’d float away if the weight of Mingi’s body weren’t pinning you down.

Mingi kisses you like a starved man whose hunger can only be satisfied by the taste of you. “Mmm, can’t you tell?” he hums between sloppy kisses, “Can’t you feel it?” 

He snaps his hips into you and you let out a moan that makes you grateful for the loud music blaring downstairs. Keeping his lips locked to yours, one hand gripping your hip and the other cradling your face, he thrusts into you harder. Hard enough to make the bed creak. Hard enough to make your walls clench tighter. Hard enough to have you tugging his hair, moaning between his lips while your decadent juices drip down his length.

Mingi groans, holding you even tighter as the head of his cock rides the ridges of your sweet spot. Your insides are so spongy and wet, clenching around him just right. There’s no way he can go back to masturbating after this. The thought of you won’t be enough. Fantasies are absolutely nothing compared to what it’s like to truly feel you under him and around him. 

“Mingi, mmm, gonna cum” you whimper, your eyes wide and glossy as you look up at him. 

You sound so cute when you say it that he loses his sanity for a second, his hips stuttering before picking up the rhythm again. Mingi slips both hands behind your neck, deepening the kiss as he bottoms out completely. Heat pools behind your belly, spreading through your body until you’re sure flames are dancing at your fingertips. Your body tenses, a weak little moan falling from your lips before your vision goes blurry and your high washes over you. 

“That’s it, good girl” Mingi coos, basking in the warmth enveloping him, “So pretty when you cum all over my cock. Always so pretty.” 

Your walls are pulsing, fluttering wildly around his swollen cock. Your cum just pours down him, making every movement slippery wet. He can’t take it anymore. He couldn’t hold back even if he tried. 

“Aah, fuck” he hisses, pulling out of you just in time to paint your inner thighs in white, leaving ropes of cum dripping dangerously close to your core. 

Completely destroyed by your orgasm, you’re plastered to the bed and can only watch as Mingi catches his breath, immediately going to work planting kisses all over your body. He kisses the places you love and the places you hate. He worships them all with his lips because to him they’re perfect in every way.

You surrender yourself to the reality of that, letting the lingering adoration from each kiss sink into your skin. Mingi’s yours, he has been since he first laid eyes on you in that library, all you ever had to do was let yourself have him. 

[earthtooz]

phainon x gn!scholar reader, phainon is so in love and reader is oblivious

The Chrysos Heir is in love.

The moment Phainon’s eyes first met yours, there was a stutter in his heart, an indescribable feeling of reverence coupled with curiosity creeped into his being when he first met you.

Beautiful. That was the only word he knew at the time.

Your beauty was unparalleled, unmatched as you saunter into his view, mind not exactly present in the moment as your clothes swayed with your every hurried step. Your eyes were foggy, a testament to your dedication and work, evidenced by the tablet you held snug to your side.

He decides in that moment that he wants to know you, so he purposefully sets himself in your line of movement and waits for the moment when you bump into him, far too focused in a world that wasn’t the one you were presently in. Fate decided to be kind to him when you fall right into his schemes, allowing him to catch you with an arm secured around your waist, your tablet falling to the stone pavement with a dull smack.

“Oh my!” you exclaim. “My utmost apologies, I was not aware of where I was going-”

He smiles, for the last thing he was thinking of was your apology. Even your voice is beautiful, the words flowing into his ears like warm ichor.

“It’s alright,” he reassures with that smile of his, almost faltering when his heart skips another beat the moment your eyes flit to look at his. Phainon thinks he’s going to collapse to his knees if you glance away. “I’ll forgive you if you tell me your name.”

Unaware of his flirtatious intentions, you sound out the syllables of your name and he repeats it with much wonder. “What a lovely name. I’m Phainon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The Chrysos Heir is in love.

It’s been two years since he first met you, and you are still just as enchanting.

He learns you are a widely renowned scholar and author, which explains the tablet you held that day. Of course, you were shocked the moment he uttered his name, for the titles of the Chrysos Heirs were well known, essentially common knowledge for those that flourished in the world of academia. Phainon still cherishes the memory of your expression, keeping it in the back of his mind and musing over it in private.

If you had known he was holding that over you, you would have thrown a slew of unpretty words at him with that pretty voice of yours, and he would have cherished them the same way he does with all of your works.

Whenever Phainon hears that your most recent novel has been released, he is one of the first to scour for it, reading it from start to finish within days. Even your publications from years before have a place on his shelves, there is no book of yours that he has not purchased and proceeded to read from front to back.

He insists on meeting you whenever he can, and while you answer a question he asked, he’s trying to keep his marvelling to a minimum, trying to keep these feelings from spilling all over you as he lets you know that his undivided attention is on you.

You’re skeptical of him. You wonder why he seeks your companionship specifically, what about you entertained him enough to invite you on market walks, buy your favourite drink from your favourite stall, and then sit on a marble bench in a quiet park underneath falling leaves.

As you’re busy pondering, he jolts whenever your thigh brushes against his.

The Chrysos Heir is in love.

His favourite time to admire you is when you’re deep in thought and unaware of the world around you, too focused on the wax tablet that sits on your desk.

Despite the practicality of papers, you tell him you like the sensation of writing on wax, how your pen glides along, all of your bursts of inspiration occur like this, so they hold a dear place in your heart. Soft chatter is exchanged, he tells you about his day, you share some idle musings about yours, then you let him know of the most recent developments of your work before he lets you write in peace.

Phainon tries not to stare too much, knows it’s unbecoming to do so, but he can’t help letting his eyes linger on you as your hand scrawls, occasionally taking a break here and there but never letting the train of thought end without it being recorded.

He could watch forever. He could be here forever, sitting in a comfortable chaise in the corner of your study, rendering himself invisible in your periphery as he just gets to exist with you.

The Chrysos Heir is in love.

It’s not widely known, perhaps less than a handful of people know, and it’s not because he has confessed it to them outright, but because they have caught on to the subtleties.

The company he surrounds himself with knows well enough about the scholar that has caught his heart, and how he refuses to run away. They give him teasing looks now and then whenever the prospect of romance and love is raised, and glance specifically at the light-haired when your name is mentioned in passing, not wanting to miss the softening of his bright gaze.

It’s even more entertaining because you are not aware of it.

You are not aware of Phainon’s awestruck eyes whenever he looks at you, how he leans closer whenever you speak, desperate to close the gap however he can. You are not aware of how he speaks your name so gently, as if wanting the wind to take the words away and to you so that no one else may hear. You are not aware of the little world Phainon lives in where it’s just you and him, existing together.

The rest of the Chrysos Heir hound after him relentlessly when they first discovered of your ignorance to his feelings, and now they make it their life mission to make fun of him for it, especially before you.

Phainon does not mind, well- tries not to, because he is in love.

As infuriating it is that you haven’t caught on, despite your immense intelligence, he waits patiently for the day you will.

Even though he yearns to declare it from the highest point of Amphoreus, that his very being has been seized by you, he is content with the quiet moments you share now, and he will happily take all that you give him, even if he wants more.

Phainon is in love.

© EARTHTOOZ 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[reginyani]

Wet Dreams | s.reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer decides to call it a day and head to bed, where he has a vivid wet dream of one of his female coworkers at the BAU.

cw: 18+, mdni, nsfw, dom!reader, sub!spencer, fem!bau!reader, oral sex, blowjob, reader swallows, use of Y/N, wet dreams

wc: 1174

authors note: sorry for the inactivity on my account! decided to pay back for that with some spencer smut;) enjoy! if you did, like and reblog!

It was an ordinary night, or so Spencer thought. The hum of the lights in his apartment, the soft tick of the clock on the wall, and the familiar weight of the blanket wrapped around his lower body. Yet something was still different.

 

When he closed his eyes, the world around him slowly started to drift away into an even deeper atmosphere.

 

It started like any other dream he has had—disjointed, unclear—but soon it shifted, warped. He found himself still lying down, leaning up on his bed. The room was dimly lit, and the air was thick with unfamiliar tension. The walls were dark, shadowed, as though the room itself was alive and shifting with every passing second.

 

Before he could process what was happening, the sound of footsteps echoed through the space. He looked up from his covers and found you standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

 

It was you, his BAU co-worker. Unlike anyone he had ever seen, a vision so striking he forgot how to breathe for a second. Your eyes glowed deeply in the low light, and your presence radiated an intense, magnetic pull. You weren't just beautiful; you were something otherworldly. It was odd; he had never noticed it before. As you stepped closer, Spencer's heart skipped a beat.

 

"What are you... doing here?" He asked, his voice hoarse, as if his body were betraying him. It was unable to comply with his usual levelheadedness.

 

"What do you mean, silly? I've been here," you said, continuing to walk over to the edge of his bed.

 

"I—uh..." He's at a loss for words, raising an eyebrow as he watches your body sway side to side as your footsteps make noise against the wood floor.

 

Once you finally make it to his bed, you crawl onto it, on all fours, making your way up his body. You smirk, looking into his big brown eyes. You snatch the blanket off, throwing it somewhere to find some other time.

 

"I can give you exactly what you need, Spencer," you said, your voice soft and melodic, your words carefully crafted to seduce him. It made his pulse race, a sudden heat rising in his chest that he couldn't explain.

 

"Need?" He gulped, sitting up straighter as your body towered over his, his brain trying to catch up with the situation. "I don't... I don't understand," his sad brown puppy eyes staring into your glowing ones in confusion.

 

You leaned in, your face mere inches from his, your breath warm against his skin. "I'm what you need in this exact moment," you whispered. "A way to... release tension, free you from the weight of your thoughts. You think so much, analyzing everything, but sometimes... you need to have an escape."

 

His chest tightened at the suggestion, his mind racing with undignified thoughts. There was something about your presence that made it impossible for him to think straight. It was as if you knew every part of him, every desire, every worry he buried deep inside himself.

 

"You don't have to think anything," you murmured, your fingers brushing over the waistband of his pajama pants. "Just feel."

 

Spencer's breath hitched as he looked down at your hand. He always prided himself on his control, but here, in this strange dream, that control seemed to slip through his fingers. His mind screamed to not allow this to happen, but his body betrayed him as he let out a whimper in anticipation.

 

You smiled at his inner conflict, his whimper music to your ears. "You don't have to fight it," you continued to whisper to him, seductively. "Do you want this, Spencer?" you finally ask.

 

He looks back up at you before finally nodding his head. "...Yes."

 

You grin, quickly pulling down his pajama pants and boxers all at once. His cock sprung out, already hard. He looks away from the scene, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

 

"Don't be embarrassed, baby. It's just me," you say, reassuring him and his doubts about this. Although there was no turning back now.

 

You look back down to his throbbing member, taking it in your hand and stroking it slowly. He turns his head back over, his mouth opening as a low groan escapes his lips.

 

"Oh... oh." he let out, throwing his head back in pleasure. You looked up to see his messy brown curls fall from his slightly wet forehead, his image more beautiful than ever.

Pathetic. It turned you on.

You finally lean your head down, taking it in your mouth slowly, your lips gliding over him as your hand worked the rest that couldn't fit into your mouth. Your tongue began to swirl and flick against the tip, feeling the smooth surface in your mouth.

 

Spencer couldn't hold back anymore. His hands flung to your head, gripping your hair, and he pushed your head further, allowing his cock to be fully pushed into your mouth. He holds your hair back as you begin to bob your head up and down, gagging as his cock hits the back of your throat.

 

Spencer's legs began to shake slightly, moaning loudly. His shame wasn't apparent anymore, as he allowed himself to guide your head on his length, beginning to thrust his hips unwillingly.

 

"Fuck... Just like that." He continues to thrust, this time in a steady rhythm, sliding in and out of your mouth with a swishing sound. Your lips gripped around his cock, driving him closer to release. "God, Y/N. You're so... talented."

 

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his, filled with lust and desire. All his problems seemed to fade away, nothing on his mind but the feeling of your lips clenching against his cock. You moan slightly, sending vibrations up his length, making him stutter out a whimper.

 

"I'm... I'm close..." he warned, his voice low but filled with pleasure as you worked your mouth on him.

 

Suddenly, a loud whine escaped his mouth, his legs heavily shaking uncontrollably. He clutched the sheets, his knuckles turning white as a warm liquid began to fill your mouth.

 

You swallowed.

 

You slide your mouth off his cock with a loud pop, sitting upward as you gaze at his face.

 

"You did so well, baby." You cooed, praising him as you brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear. He sighed softly, his arms shaking as he struggled to keep his body up. "I'm glad I could help you escape, even if it wasn't real."

 

That was the last thing you said before his eyes opened, breathing heavily as he sat up in his bed. The remnants of the dream lingered in the edges of Spencer's mind. It had been so vivid, so real—the kind of dream where every detail felt significant. Spencer rubbed his temples, pulling fragments of the haze, but the more he thought about it, the further it seemed to fade away.

 

How was he gonna act when he saw you at work? He flipped his sheets off his hot body, then looked down at his pajama pants.

 

Fuck.

 

Is all he thought as he looked down at the wet splotch on his crotch.

 

 

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