#this genuinely made my day thank you so much for this

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴘ ᴜ ᴘ ᴘ ʏ ʟ ᴏ ᴠ ᴇ ⸻

Pairing: Siscon Damian Wayne x Fem Reader x Yandere Jon Kent Part 1

Headcanon: What if Jon become obsessed with Damian's sister?

Notes: Siscon is a word to refer those brothers and sisters who feel a strong sense of affection or attachment to their sisters. English is not my first language. Hone you enjoy!

Jon was over at the Wayne Manor for a sleepover, all wide-eyed excitement and nervous energy. Damian had begrudgingly invited him (Bruce’s insistence), and the younger boy was already regretting it. Jon was annoying, far too cheerful, and—worst of all—he had no sense of boundaries. Damian had learned to tolerate him, though, mostly because Jon was naive enough not to notice the storm that brewed in the younger Wayne’s mind whenever someone got too close to you.

And Jon got too close right away.

The moment you came downstairs, wearing an oversized hoodie and socks that slid on the hardwood floors, Jon froze. His big blue eyes widened to cartoonish proportions, his cheeks turned a bright shade of red, and for a moment, it looked like his brain had short-circuited.

"Hi," you greeted with a warm smile, ruffling Damian's hair as you walked past. (He hated it, or at least pretended to, judging by the subtle way he leaned into your touch.) "You must be Jon."

Jon stammered something incomprehensible, nodding like an overeager puppy. Damian shot him a glare that could have melted steel, but Jon didn’t even notice.

"You’re—uh—really pretty," Jon finally managed to choke out, his voice cracking slightly.

You laughed, a soft sound that only made Jon’s brain glitch further.

"Thanks, kiddo," you said, pinching his cheek. "You’re cute."

If Jon had a tail, it would’ve been wagging furiously. Damian, on the other hand, looked like he was about to commit murder.

From that day on, Jon was obsessed.

It takes exactly 0.2 seconds for Damian to realize Jon is crushing on you. The way Jon stares at you with stars in his eyes? The way he stumbles over his words when you talk to him? It’s disgusting.

Damian glare at Jon "You’re drooling."

"I-I am not!"

"Jon, are you okay? You’re all red." You said. You were worry for the kid.

Damian smirk "He’s fine. Just leave him."

Every time he came over to Wayne Manor, he asked about you. Where were you? What were you doing? Did you need help with anything? Damian was this close to slamming Jon’s head into the nearest wall.

"She’s busy, Kent," Damian would snap, his voice sharp enough to cut. "And she doesn’t have time to entertain idiotic farm boys."

But then you’d walk into the room, and Jon would light up like a Christmas tree. He’d start babbling about anything and everything, trying to impress you with stories about his dad or his adventures. You, being the sweetheart you were, humored him.

"Oh wow, you saved a cat from a tree?" you’d say, your tone genuine despite the simple nature of Jon’s stories. "You’re such a strong hero, Jon."

Damian, standing off to the side, would roll his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of his head.

Damian, of course, had always been protective of you. From the moment Bruce brought him into the family, you’d been his. You were his anchor, his comfort, the only person in the world who truly understood him.

But you didn’t see it that way.

To you, Damian was just your little brother. Sure, he had a sharp tongue and an attitude that could rival Gotham’s worst criminals, but deep down, he was a sweet kid. You adored him, and he adored you—though he showed it in his own... peculiar ways.

Like scowling at anyone who so much as looked at you.

Or “accidentally” spilling water on that guy who tried to flirt with you at the gala last month.

Or, more recently, hovering like a shadow every time Jon Kent was within a ten-foot radius of you.

It was during one of those infamous sleepovers that things came to a head.

The second Jon starts acting weird around you, Damian picks up on it. Like the time Jon saw you in the kitchen and tripped over his own feet, sending a glass of milk flying.

"Oh no, are you okay?" You say while helping Jon clean up, your hand brushing his

Jon blushing furiously "I—I’m fine! Really!"

Meanwhile Damian standing in the doorway, glaring daggers at him "Kent. A word."

Jon nervously excuses himself, and you think nothing of it. But in the other room, Damian corners him.

"Whatever you’re thinking, stop it," Damian growls.

"What? I don’t know what you’re talking about—"

Damian press him against the wall "Don’t test me, Kent."

Jon starts finding excuses to visit.

"Hey, Mr. Wayne wanted me to help with a case," he says one day, standing awkwardly in the doorway. Of course, Bruce didn’t actually call him over, but Jon’s banking on you not asking too many questions.

"Oh, that’s great! Damian’s in the training room."

"Actually… I was hoping to hang out with you. I mean, you’re so smart, and Damian talks about you all the time, and I think I could learn a lot from you."

Damian appears out of nowhere like a shadow. "She’s busy. Go away, Kent."

But Jon doesn’t leave. Instead, he lingers, asking you about everything: your favorite books, your favorite places to visit, what kind of guys you like (as if he’s not 13 and awkward).

"Jon, you’re a child," Damian says, arms crossed. "You can’t possibly comprehend what it means to appreciate someone as extraordinary as her."

"I’m only six years younger than her!"

"Exactly. Stay in your lane."

Damian takes it upon himself to shadow you everywhere whenever Jon is around, making it impossible for Jon to even think about making a move.

One day, Damian finds Jon leaving a love letter in your room. A love letter. Damian’s rage is unmatched. He tears the note in half and grabs Jon by the collar.

"If you ever even think about her again, I’ll make sure Superman has to scrape your remains off the moon."

"She deserves better than you."

Damian doesn’t respond. Instead, he calmly walks into your room, grabs your hand, and drags you downstairs.

"You’re not allowed to talk to Kent anymore," he announces.

"Wait, what? Why not?"

"Because he’s dangerous. Trust me, I’m doing this for your own good."

Damian doesn’t respond. Instead, he calmly walks into your room, grabs your hand, and drags you downstairs.

You’d made popcorn and brought it to Damian’s room, where he and Jon were supposed to be watching a movie. Instead, you walked in to find Jon staring dreamily at your photo on Damian’s desk (a candid shot of you laughing at something Alfred said).

Damian noticed your arrival first, his expression darkening.

"Kent," he growled.

Jon jumped, nearly knocking over the desk in his haste to look innocent. "I wasn’t—I mean—uh, hi, Y/N!"

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "Hey, Jon. You boys okay?"

"Fine," Damian said through gritted teeth.

Jon, ignoring the blatant hostility radiating from his best friend, nodded enthusiastically. "Better now that you’re here!"

Damian shot him a look that could have frozen fire.

"Aw, thanks," you said with a laugh, completely oblivious to the tension. "You two are so sweet. You know that?"

Damian muttered something under his breath—something Jon was probably glad he didn’t hear.

Later that night, while Damian was in the bathroom, Jon decided to shoot his shot.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, fidgeting with the hem of his Superman-themed pajamas. "I was wondering... do you wanna hang out sometime? Like, just the two of us?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "Like... a playdate?"

Jon’s face turned a deep shade of red. "N-No! Like... like a date-date."

You stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Oh, Jon, that’s so sweet. But I think you’re a little young for me, don’t you think?"

Jon looked crushed. Before he could respond, Damian walked back into the room, immediately sensing the shift in mood.

"What’s going on?" he demanded, eyes narrowing.

"Nothing," you said quickly, ruffling Jon’s hair. "Jon was just being his adorable self."

Damian’s eyes flicked between the two of you, his jaw tightening. He didn’t say anything, but the look he gave Jon promised retribution.

From that night on, Jon’s crush only grew, but so did Damian’s possessiveness. Jon was like a puppy, trailing after you with stars in his eyes. Damian, meanwhile, was the guard dog, snapping and growling at anyone who dared come near you—especially Jon.

You, of course, were blissfully unaware of the brewing storm. To you, they were just two adorable kids who couldn’t seem to get along.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Secret Santa Gift | LN4

𐙚༘⋆˖°🎄๋࣭ ⭑₊ ⊹ summary ━━━━━━━ At a Christmas party, Y/N receives a gift from Lando, her Secret Santa. After realizing his feelings, she meets him in Hyde Park, where Lando confesses his love.

𐙚༘⋆˖°🎄๋࣭ ⭑₊ ⊹ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𐙚༘⋆˖°🎄๋࣭ ⭑₊ ⊹ word count ━━━━━━━ 1.8k

Inside Pietra and Max’s flat, the warm glow of fairy lights cast a festive ambiance. The group had gathered around, their laughter and chatter filling the space. Among the group was Lando Norris, the Formula 1 driver, whose infectious energy was as much a highlight of the evening as the spiced mulled wine.

Y/N had met Lando through Pietra. He was charming, funny, and always had a way of making her laugh, but she’d never considered that he might see her as more than just a friend. Why would someone like him—a world-famous driver with fans across the globe—be interested in someone like her?

What Y/N didn’t know was that from the moment Lando had met her, he was hooked. Her shy smiles, fierce wit, and the way she carried herself had captivated him. He had tried to drop hints—playful teasing, lingering stares, and always managing to be by her side whenever they were in the same room. But so far, his feelings had gone unnoticed, much to the amusement of their mutual friends.

Tonight, Lando’s heart raced with anticipation. He had drawn Y/N’s name for Secret Santa, and he’d spent days planning her gift. If he couldn’t tell her how he felt outright, he’d let his actions do the talking.

As everyone settled in a circle around the tree, Pietra handed out the gifts.

“Alright, everyone, one at a time. Let’s see what Santa’s brought us,” Pietra announced with a grin.

Y/N’s turn came quickly. She picked up a neatly wrapped box with her name on it and smiled. “Ooh, this one looks fancy.”

She carefully unwrapped the paper to reveal a beautifully designed gift box. Inside were items that immediately caught her attention: a novel by her favorite author, a selection of her go-to snacks, and a handwritten note tucked neatly between them.

She picked up the note and read it aloud, her cheeks turning pink as she spoke:

"To Y/N,

I hope these little things bring a smile to your face. You deserve all the happiness in the world. Happy Christmas!

—Your Secret Santa."

The room was quiet for a moment before the group erupted into knowing smiles and exchanged glances.

“This is perfect,” Y/N said, beaming. “Whoever my Secret Santa is, thank you!”

Across the room, Lando leaned back against the couch, his soft smile betraying his delight. “Glad you like it,” he said casually.

Y/N gave him a warm smile before turning her attention back to the gift box, completely unaware of the depth behind his words.

Later in the evening, when the group had dispersed into smaller conversations, Pietra sidled up to Lando. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not subtle at all, you know,” she said, her tone teasing.

Lando shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Don’t need to be. She’s worth it.”

Pietra shook her head with a grin. “You’ve got it bad, Norris. When are you going to tell her?”

Lando glanced over at Y/N, who was laughing at something one of the others had said. Her smile lit up the room, and for a moment, it was just her in his world.

“Soon,” he said softly.

As the evening wound down and guests began to leave, Lando lingered behind, offering to help Pietra and Max clean up. Y/N stayed too, not wanting the night to end just yet.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Lando asked as he carried a stack of plates to the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, leaning against the counter. “It’s always nice to get together like this. And that gift… It was really thoughtful.”

Lando met her gaze, his lips quirking into a smile. “I’m glad. You deserve it.”

There was something in his tone—something warm and genuine—that made her stomach flutter. She quickly looked away, brushing it off as friendly banter.

As the clock struck midnight, Lando walked Y/N to the door. The cold air outside was a stark contrast to the warmth of the evening.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Lando,” she replied, her cheeks tinged pink from more than just the cold.

As she walked away, Lando stood there for a moment, watching her disappear into the night. He knew he couldn’t keep his feelings a secret much longer.

And maybe, just maybe, Y/N was beginning to notice too.

The days following the Secret Santa evening were uneventful for Y/N—or so she told herself. Her mind, however, kept drifting back to the gift. There was something about it, something so specific and thoughtful, that made her heart skip a beat. Whoever her Secret Santa was had paid attention to the little details about her life. But who could it have been?

“It’s probably just Pietra,” she muttered to herself one morning as she walked to the café near her office for her usual coffee fix. “She knows I love that author.”

Still, the way Lando had smiled at her that night lingered in her thoughts. It wasn’t the playful grin she was used to seeing. It was softer, almost tender, and it made her cheeks heat every time she replayed it in her head.

Shaking off the memory, she stepped into the café, greeted by the rich aroma of coffee beans and the low hum of conversation.

Lando, on the other hand, wasn’t shaking off anything. The memory of Y/N’s smile when she opened his gift was etched in his mind. He’d been tempted to tell her the truth that night but had held back, not wanting to overwhelm her. But he couldn’t wait much longer.

“Mate, just tell her,” his friend Max had said during a call the day after the party. “She’s not as oblivious as you think.”

Lando wasn’t convinced. Y/N had a way of brushing off his flirtations as jokes, as though the idea of him liking her was absurd. But he was determined to change that.

A few days later, Y/N found herself at the same café again, waiting for her latte. It was one of those rare slow mornings, and she decided to sit by the window to watch the city bustle by. As she sipped her coffee, an older woman sitting at the next table leaned over with a warm smile.

“Excuse me, dear,” the woman said. “I couldn’t help but notice—are you seeing that young man who was sitting here a few minutes ago?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Um, no. I don’t think I know who you mean.”

The woman chuckled softly. “He was sitting here earlier, fiddling with his phone and glancing at the door every few seconds. When you walked in, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. He left not long after but looked quite pleased with himself.”

Y/N frowned, confused. “Are you sure it was me he was looking at?”

“Oh, absolutely,” the woman said, her eyes twinkling. “He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat. “What did he look like?” she asked, though she already had a sinking suspicion.

“Dark brown hair, striking greenish-blue eyes, and a sharp jawline. He looked like someone who belonged on the cover of a high-end sports magazine—tall and had an athletic build.”

Y/N’s stomach flipped. It couldn’t be… could it?

That evening, as she walked home, her mind raced. The description fit Lando perfectly, and the woman’s words were hard to ignore. Was it possible that he’d been there, watching her? And if so, why hadn’t he said anything?

By the time she reached her flat, she was too restless to sit still. She grabbed her phone and opened a message thread with Pietra.

Y/N: Can I ask you something? Was Lando my Secret Santa?

A few seconds later, her phone buzzed.

Pietra: Took you long enough to figure it out. Yes, it was him. And yes, he’s head over heels for you.

Y/N stared at the message, her heart pounding. Pietra’s words confirmed what the woman in the café had hinted at.

The next day, Lando texted her out of the blue.

Lando: Fancy a walk in Hyde Park? I’m in London for a couple of days.

Y/N hesitated but replied.

Y/N: Sure. When?

That afternoon, they met by the park entrance. Lando greeted her with his usual playful smile, though his eyes held a certain softness that made her heart flutter.

“Thanks for coming,” he said as they started walking.

“It’s nice to get some fresh air,” Y/N replied, trying to sound casual.

For a while, they strolled in comfortable silence, the crunch of gravel underfoot and the distant sound of children playing filling the gaps.

“Can I ask you something?” she said suddenly, stopping near a bench.

Lando turned to her, his hands in his coat pockets. “Anything.”

She took a deep breath. “Were you my Secret Santa?”

His lips twitched into a smirk. “What gave it away?”

“Pietra,” she admitted, folding her arms. “And maybe an old woman in a café who said you were staring at me like a lovesick puppy.”

Lando’s eyes widened, then he laughed—a warm, genuine sound. “Lovesick puppy, huh? That’s new.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat. “So… it’s true?”

Lando stepped closer, his teasing tone softening. “Yeah, it’s true. I was your Secret Santa. And I’ve been trying to tell you how I feel for months.”

Her breath hitched. “Lando…”

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re everything, Y/N. You’re funny, smart, kind, and you have no idea how much you light up a room just by being in it. I’ve been crazy about you since the day we met.”

She stared at him, her mind racing. All the little moments—the lingering looks, the teasing, the way he always seemed to be near her—suddenly made sense.

“I… I thought you were just being nice,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando chuckled softly. “I don’t flirt with just anyone, you know.”

Y/N bit her lip, her heart pounding. “I didn’t think someone like you would look at someone like me.”

His expression turned serious. “Y/N, you’re everything I’ve been looking for. And I don’t care about what I do or where I live. All I care about is you.”

Her eyes filled with tears as his words sank in. “You really mean that?”

He nodded, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “I’d do anything for you. You mean that much to me.”

Y/N smiled through her tears. “I think I’ve been falling for you too. I just didn’t realize it.”

Lando’s grin returned, playful yet full of warmth. “Took you long enough.”

Before she could reply, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle, heartfelt kiss. The world around them faded, leaving only the two of them in that perfect moment.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT doing a variety show with their idol!crush

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘hi can you do one where stv is doing some variety content for yt along with the reader (also an idol) and also their crush... ? thank you<3’

Cool as a cucumber - Joshua, Wonwoo, Minghao, Vernon

You would actually never know he has such a massive crush. Some of it is a poker face because he’s on camera, but some of it just that he wouldn’t be so outwardly expressive about that crush in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, they won’t shut you out. They’ll interact with you and totally enjoy that time, sort of hoping that at the end of the day you guys can exchange numbers and keep talking. Both you and his members will be a little surprised when he actually makes a move, because there were so few signs. 

A major flirt - Jeonghan, Hoshi, DK, Seungkwan, Chan

I think these guys kind of ham it up for the camera in the first place, so they aren’t really shy about putting on a little extra charm. I’m talking pickup line after pickup line and compliment after compliment, all complete with a boldly adoring look. Doesn’t care much in the moment if it seems like he’s just doing it because of the camera. The surprise will be when the camera is very obviously off and he’s still putting on the same kind of charm. 

Totally shy and obvious - Seungcheol, Jun, Woozi, Mingyu

It doesn’t matter if there are cameras, because he genuinely can’t hold eye contact with you if he had to. Might even seem a little standoffish at first, keeping is distance and not really acknowledging you. But if there’s a challenge or game that requires him to be closer to you or speak to you directly, it is completely obvious that he’s flustered. Oh my, will his group members tease him mercilessly about it. But he won’t be entirely upset about how obvious he made his crush on camera if it results in you showing your own interest. 

[fawninthesnow]

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥: One Shot

𐙚 Marcus acacius x fem!reader/emperor geta x fem!reader 𐙚 18+

Summary: You are the Empress of Rome in a mundane marriage to Emperor Geta. After a military banquet, you find yourself in the bedroom of his subordinate, Marcus Acacius.

Warnings/Contains: fem reader, smut, teasing, pinning, [slight] dirty talk, unprotected sex, cheating, deny orgm, not proof read,

Word Count: 2.5k

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“I did not think you would remember my name.” Acacius remarked.

“With all you do for this great country…how could I, *Marcus* Acacius?” You smiled in the shade as two servants fanned your tanned skin.

He chuckled with a sly grin while holding the ball in both his hands, tossing it back and forth. “Why did you say that so condescendingly? I would love to hear something genuine coming out of your mouth. After all, you’re the empress.” He laughed before clearing his throat.

“So, I should kiss your ass?”

“In no way, Miss.”

“How about this…” You touch your chin, your [e/c] eyes falling on his chest and strong biceps. “Thank you, Marcus.” You said, touching your thigh. You smiled at his cheeks as they flushed pink.

“I apologize, Miss, in case I disrespected you.”

“It’s water under the bridge, isn’t that right?” He listened to the laughed in your voice as you stood nearly against him now. He inhaled the vanilla and Lily scent off your body. He craved to pull you into his embrace and just taste, a simple taste of your neck. To press his lips on your warm honey skin and suck on your nipples, squeeze and touch you until you could no longer take it

“Your dessert, Miss [].” A server offered you a sweet dessert on a silver platter with a heavy silver spoon. There was a period of silence as the two took in their surroundings and the people who filled that space.

“Lady [y/n], are you and your better half still coming to the Banquet? I know the emperor has not made many appearances.”

You licked a swirl of cream from the spoon. Marcus grew flustered— not that you cared to notice but your eyes fell to his hands. “We will be there.” The sound of her finger leaving her mouth and cream filling on her tongue made his loins ache. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Marcus stayed still. That same small smirk. That same tilt of his head that made his hair shift. That same look of desire and determination to grab and take that seductive woman into his arms, into his rough hands. “Well. I should be going. Enjoy the rest of your day off...” Marcus smiled as he looked away from you.

**That night.**

After a dance, you found yourself on the main balcony. You caught your breath, feeling the cool breeze on your bosom and as it flowed in your dress. “Feeling alright?” Marcus’s melancholy and calm voice touched her ears.

Without turning around to him, you responded. “Yes.” Her tone was that of a question (nearly).

He smiled, moving to your side. “Wine?”

You took the offered glass and smiled, “Thank you, Mister Acacius.”

“Of course, Miss.” You sipped from your glass as the two of you stood together. He threw back the last of the wine in his glass before moving closer. “You seem introverted tonight. What are your days like?”

“Hm? Well, you know, I sit around…and wait for my husband to come to me.” Your body leaned against a pillar, facing him on the balcony as wind whipped your hair around. “Everyday.” You sighed softly; a sad, drunken moan left your lips.

“That doesn’t sound too fun.” He moved closer, his dark hair softly turned and flipped in the night spring breeze. Your looked at his arms, his chest in his white garments. He is a big man, much different from Geta. “Geta does not let you out much?”

“I’m not a dog…but yes, it’s rather hard to convince him to do anything but what he wants.”

“Even with a body like yours?” You said nothing to that, smirking as your eyes settled inside each other. His expression was hard and serious, “I did not mean to offend you. I just cannot believe there’s a man out there that wouldn’t follow your every word.” You touched your own waist and hips, tracing the design on your dress. “Are you happy with…?”

“My husband?”

“Your predicament.”

“…no. How’s things for you and yours?” He smiled softly before breaking into a deep yet empty laughter, “I take it, *Lady* Acacius has a love for the more…” You walked past him and to the other pillar to your left, draping against it as you sipped from the glass, the straps of your dress slipping down your soft shoulders. “Mundane…rather, ‘Vanilla’ things of life. One lover, one child, one home, one position, one bed, same sheets, same plates, same clothes. Isn’t that exhausting?” Your gaze fell onto his slightly pink lips and strong nose.

Your pupils stayed on his lips when they moved, “I don’t think we are close enough for me to tell you the truth.” Your glass was placed on the balcony table.

You took his hands, his rough calluses into your soft ones. He stood close but still, you brought him against your body until you were stuck between him and the pillar. “Is this close enough?”

“Yes.” His warm breath on your ear as his right hand caressed your neck; you look up at him. “You’re drunk.”

“*We’re* tipsy.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.” His deep voice made your thighs spread involuntarily. His palm wondered down the breasts of your dress. Nervous and feeling rather out of himself, Marcus let out shaking breaths. “Let’s go inside.” You looked away from him, letting the wind whip your hair about her face again. He moved hair from your full lips and cheeks. “I can’t stand it when you don’t look at me.” You smiled, turning your gaze back to him. When his hands fell on the hips of your dress, you let out a soft breath. Marcus leaned deeper onto you, enveloping you with his body.

“You are an attention hungry man.” Your fingertips rubbed his pants, gently stroking.

“I only want your attention.”

You thought back to the many times he’d laugh louder at your jokes than others. When he’d move his seat till he was directly across from you at dinner parties. “Poor thing.” You caressed his cheek as his eyes shut. He exhaled on the top of your head, enjoying your touch, and the feel of your curves pressed on him. His hips pushed onto you; his garments felt tight, tighter than ever. His cock needed to breathe. You smiled, turning around so your cheek touched the pillar, and ass pressed on his clothes. As if bucking against you, he held you still, guiding your ass along his boner.

“…damn.” You raised your dress over the curve of your ass. “H- holy shit.” He stared at your bare thighs and ass; such made him groan with pleasure. You felt his warm breath as he pants over your shoulder; he continues working his hips against your ass.

The door to the balcony swung open and the two tore from each other. Marcus stood against the railing, gripping it tightly as he tried to relax his lustful gaze and stiff erection. He gulped, praying his cock wouldn’t bust the seams of his pants as he looked away from anything around him. You fixed your hair, and straightened out your dress before turning to the open door. Geta, drunk and groaning, held onto the door handle for support.

“My, my! Geta.” You helped your husband stand.

“What’s…uh…what…” Geta mumbled, looking at your glossy eyes as he held your cheeks. “What’s goin on? You two…are talking about me, huh?”

“You’re paranoid.”

“It’s my job to be…” He smiled, covering your face with his hot, wine-stained breath. Your lipstick smeared on his face as you messily kissed. Marcus exhaled although shaking, attempting to ignore the erotic sounds that sounded as if it came from a *speaker* behind him. He groaned with no control, letting out a sigh. “Who….right, Marcus. Marcus…Marcus, C’mere. Look at…me.” Marcus cleared his throat, turning to the man. “You look red…”

“You look drunk.” He muttered, watching as the man leaned on his tipsy wife. For a moment, there was silence, then the three laughed.

“Fucker. Haha! I swear…he’d kill me if…I weren’t his emperor.” Geta’s words slurred, and he sighed many times as he spoke.

“Who says I haven’t tried?” Marcus muttered before helping you carrying him.

“You’re funny.” Geta coughed and groaned before trying to fix his posture.

“There are rooms here for guests. Our room is…down the hall.”

“Allow me. I don’t want you to mess up your dress.” You observed Marcus as he sneered, putting Geta in his shoulder. Geta continued to dip out of consciousness, trying to watch his wife’s gaze but it stayed on Marcus.

Later that night, Marcus sat up in bed, glaring at the wall ahead. His wife stayed to her side of the bed, snoring quietly. With his chest rising calmly, he thought of the empress in her dancing dress, leaning forward as she sat at the dinner table. He was beside her at the time with Geta to her left. Although she held her husband’s arm, she leaned to Marcus. Her bosom against his body. Her body was warm, he recalled. Before any time at all, his erection stood beneath the covers. He shut his eyes and mumbled to himself, “Fuck.” As they sat beside each other at the time, he wanted to cup her chest, to rub her ass, maybe even slip his fingers inside of her—

Marcus opened his eyes, not surprised to find his fist around his cock, gently holding himself. With a quick glance to his right, he looked at his wife. His chest heaved as his imagination ran wild about the other woman, about you. He wanted to tie you down to his headboard and make love to you until your body was spent and twitching. Marcus stood, running his fingers through his dark hair before going to the bathroom. He snatched his wife’s lavender body moisturizer from the counter and dipped his hand inside before rubbing it along his shaft with a roughness of a sexually frustrated man. He hadn’t had sex in weeks, not with his wife, a woman who prefers planned sexual activity. On his own, he’s made himself cum more times than her lips have since they’ve met.

He slipped on a robe, and called over a guard, “Send word to the emperor’s suite.” He offered the man a paper. The guard quickly knocked upon the door. You opened the bedroom door. “Marcus?” You read the note. *Come to my room.*

Marcus’s chest heaved and his breath were huffs heavy with lust as he quietly masturbated inside of the bathroom. The man leaned over the counter, and resisted his orgasm. He imagined your perfume scent in his nose beneath him as he huffed, making his hips throb.

His bedroom door was the only one with one flame burning outside, your curiosity grew as the door opened slightly. In the yellow lighting, your pretty body and round face met his gaze. He invited you inside and shut the door. At the nearest wall, he pressed you softly against it, gripping your sheer robe. “Take it off.” You nodded, untying the cloth. He stayed pressed up against your body, breathing deeply… “Fucking hell, you look amazing.”

You looked up at him with glossy [e/c] eyes, hoping and praying he’d make that first move. *No*. You thought. “I- I shouldn’t. Geta. He’s not the best man when he’s angry. Especially over me.”

“Fuck.” He held your throat and brought you closer. His tongue explored your mouth as you softly moaned—you couldn’t help it. His hands rubbing your thighs. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. The slight moans mixed with his words gave away a hint of his excitement. Your leg went to his hip and once again, you felt his erection; this time pressing on your soaked slit.

Marcus let out a soft groan as you scratched around his neck, your actions were getting to him... really getting to him. Your breathing was matching his, your hands were as hungry as his to feel and touch.

He controlled your body, pinning you up on the love seat. “Shhh,” He smiled before he noticed a certain reluctance towards him, “Don’t look away from me. Let me have you.” You agreed, letting your eyes shut. He gently slipped inside of your tight pussy, filling you until those pretty eyes fell back and shut closed.

Marcus's body heated up as your lips moved against his cheek, your tongue tracing the contours of it. He lets out another soft moan as you start to move against him now, grinding your hips deeply against his. Your movement was causing his body to shiver, it seemed as though his hands started trembling now too. “Oh, Marcus,” The sound of your whimpering only excited and riled him up more and more. “You are more of a man than he will ever be.” He gently pushed his hips against yours, making you squeal and scratch his back with your nails. Your words of him being a man had him breathing a bit more heavily. His fingers gently slid up your neck, down to your nipple, gently teasing and rubbing it until your body writhes under his. Moans left your lips, making it hard for you to stay quiet.

The movement and noise they made shook the love seat and the bed his wife lay asleep on, shake. “A- ah~ My empress~” Marcus groaned into your ear, pushing his hips faster with these quick strokes. Your eyes water and spill tears as his thick cock stretched your cunt.

“Hmm-“ His lips met yours, messily smearing your lipstick. “F- fuck, Marcus. Fuck me.” He held you still under him, quickly pounding his hips against yours until you could only tremble, staring in his eyes. “You’re too loud~” You whispered, listening to the squelch of your own wetness and the creak of the furniture.

A few loud knocks on the door echoed in the room, followed by another set of loud bangs. Marcus’s heart pounded as he turned around. “…shit!” His wife slowly rose from bed, wiping her eyes.

“[Y/n]! [Y/n]? Are you in there?!” Marcus pushed you under the bed and put on a robe. He looked at his wife and smiled.

“Go back to bed, honey.” The woman groaned, laying back on the pillows. When Marcus answered the door, he tossed his hair, “Hello?”

“Is [Y/n] in there?” Geta asked roughly, rather hungover. “My wife.”

“Eh, I haven’t seen her all night.” He smiled, leaning on the door. “Would-“

“No.” Geta interrupted gruffly.

End <3 (Thinking of doing a part 2!!) Sorry for any spelling/ grammar mistakes!

More on my Master list!

follow & like pls

[kaminocasey]

Hey! I'm gonna take advantage of your charity and incredible talent and ask me some Silco stuff, and I will make it very personal.

Im just a sucker for angsty fluff, so I was thinking something in the lines of reader works either in some restaurant where Silco goes or actually works in the last drop. And she's just having a rough couple of days and Silco finds out about it and just wants to help (maybe he gets frustrated because of it all, and goes all Silco, you know what I mean? Damn I'm gonna shut up now). But we all know Silco is not the most affectionate man, or at least shows it in weird (?) ways. I feel like it would be better (?) if they didn't have a relationship yet. But I'll leave it to your brilliance to do as you please, I have complete trust in your skills.

But remember, you don't have to do this if you don't feel like it of course.

Anyway, to much information already. So good luck, love your work, that brain of yours and you in general ❤️💙💛🤍

PS- do not allow me to make more requests, I will make them long, weird and I'll keep remembering more stuff to add and the next thing you know it's a full blown fic 🤣

Take All Your Sins

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, love!!! I was excited to do this one!!! This is going to be a two parter or MORE for SURE. <3 ilysm thank you again for your trust in me!!!

Summary: You work in the Last Drop and very close to Vander. What happens if Silco comes along and ruins that?

Pairing: Silco x Reader

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: Angst, sweet Silco, protective Vander, alcohol

Taglist Form | Arcane Masterlist

“If you have something else to do, I can finish those.” You come into the doorway of the kitchen, nodding toward the dishes that he’s doing. 

“I got ‘em. Almost done.” The older man smiles at you.

A few years ago, Vander gave you a place to stay when he found you out on the streets and ever since then, you were basically inseparable. His kids were like your own. 

“Rough night, huh?” Vander asks as you lean in the doorway, keeping an eye on the place in case more patrons came in. 

The Last Drop is usually busy this time of night, especially on this day of the week. But it’s like a ghost town right now and you can’t seem to figure out why.

“Rough week.” You sigh, crossing your arms. 

“Do you need a couple days off?” Vander asks, genuinely.

He always made sure you were taken care of, which you appreciate, but sometimes it feels like he does too much for others, and never lets anyone do anything for him. You’re bound to change that though. His birthday is coming up and you’ve been saving up for something special that will be from you and the kids. 

“Nah, I’m-” You start but hear the door open.

“You got it?” Vander asks and you nod with a grin and turn around to greet the customer, letting the kitchen door swing shut.

“What can I get ya?” You smile at the older man, who makes you do a subtle double take.

“Whiskey. Neat, please.” He smiles. 

He’s got dark hair, a partially scarred face, one blue eye and the other dark black with an orange iris that makes him look incredibly menacing. He’s wearing an open, fancy peacoat with a buttoned vest and tie. Who the hell is this guy?

His eyes rake over you as you approach the bar where he sits. 

“Haven’t seen you before.” You smile, politely. 

“I don’t get out much.” He takes his coat off and sits it down on the stool next to him. “I… work a lot.” 

His voice is silky and you can’t help but want to hear him say more. 

“What do you do?” You ask as you pour his drink. 

“I own my own business.” He tells you and takes the drink when you slide it to him. 

The way he says it, makes you think he doesn’t want to answer anymore questions about himself. 

“What’s your name?” He asks softly. 

You tell him and he takes a sip, keeping his blue eye on you. You smile softly, unsure of what to say.

“Pretty name.” He tells you, after he finishes off his drink. 

You go to pour him another but he puts his hand over his drink and shakes his head.

“Thanks.” You put the bottle back down and then take the empty glass from him, sitting it in the sink. “What’s yours?” 

“Silco. Do you like working here?” He asks, not missing a beat. 

You nod. “Yeah, I do.” 

“And you like Vander?” 

You nod. “Who doesn’t?” 

He chuckles, glancing around subtly. “Who doesn’t, indeed?”

“What are you doing after work?” He asks. 

Oh… of course. He thinks you’re going to put out- 

“I’m not trying to fuck you.” He tells you, as if he can read your mind while he stands up and puts his coat back on.

“You’re not?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to, but that’s not why I asked.” He smirks.

You both stare at each other for a moment. His eyes fall to your lips before coming back up to your eyes.

“So… the real reason is?” You cross your arms.

“I think you’re beautiful and I’ve not been on a proper date in years.” Silco shrugs, placing a hand on the back of the barstool. 

You go warm in the face before looking down at his slender fingers and immediately can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like inside-

“I’ll be by at 11.” He tells you, snapping your thoughts back to the present as he places a few cogs onto the bar. 

“Um. Alright.” You nod, giving a kind smile. 

He stares at you for another short moment before giving you a smile back and then leaving. Just as the door closes, Vander walks out and sees you staring at the door, breaking you out of the trance that Silco seemed to have put you in.

“Everything okay?” He asks, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You look up at him, smiling a little dreamily. It’s not something you’re used to. Normally, when customers ask you out, you brush them off and pay them no mind. But Silco… he managed to get you to pay attention. 

“All good. Um… I have a date after work.” You go warm in the face at the word ‘date’. 

It’s not like you don’t date… you do… just not consistently. The last date you went on was a year ago. It didn’t go well so you decided to just focus on work.

“With the customer that just came in? Who is he?” Vander’s eyebrows raise in surprise, knowing that you haven’t gone out with someone in a long time.

“Just… some guy.” You shrug, starting to wipe down the bar. 

Vander chuckles. “Alright. Keep your secrets. I was young once, too.”

You laugh with him, your thoughts immediately going back to Silco’s unmatching eyes and the way they softened at the sight of you. 

“You can go get ready if you want. I can finish here.” Vander smirks. 

You roll your eyes. “Thanks. I owe you.” 

“Nah. Get outta here.” He nods toward the door that leads to the upstairs. 

You pat him on the shoulder as you walk past him, heading upstairs to go shower. You look at the clock and see that it reads 9:30. That should give you plenty of time to get ready. You don’t take particularly long showers. 

As you turn on the water, you climb into the shower, letting the water flow over your body as you stand there for a moment before starting to wash your body and hair. You still can’t stop thinking about the older man. He had to be about Vander’s age, right? You wonder if they know each other. Perhaps after you get to know Silco a little more, you’ll introduce them. 

After your shower, you dry your hair the best you can and then settle on a dress that you’d saved up forever to buy just because. What better excuse to wear it than on a date with an extremely attractive, slightly intimidating, man? 

At ten til 11, you make your way back down to the bar. Vander and Benzo both let out a whistle at the sight of you.

“Don’t you clean up nice?” Vander grins. 

You shrug, going warm in the face from the attention. “I guess.” 

You sit up on the bar stool next to Benzo. You glance over at the door and then back at Vander. 

“Do you want something to loosen your nerves?” Vander teases. 

“I’m alright, thanks.” You roll your eyes, amused.

“Who’s this hot date with?” Benzo nudges you with his elbow. 

You go warm in the face all over again, thinking about Silco. “Just some older guy… he’ll be here any minute.” 

They accept that answer and continue their conversation from before about business stuff that you don’t really mind yourself with. You pretty much just show up and do your job and do exactly what Vander tells you to do and then go back upstairs and sleep. And then repeat. 

The door opens moments later, and the three of you look up to find Silco walking in. You can’t help but give him a sweet smile. He smirks at you and pauses by the door.

“Are you ready-” He starts.

“Silco.” Vander growls. 

“Hello, Vander.” Silco’s eyes fall past you to the man behind you. “Lovely establishment you have here.”

You turn to Vander, confused. “You know each other?”

“Oh yes, we do.” Silco walks toward you, wrapping an arm around your lower back, looking you up and down. “You look beautiful, darling.” 

“She’s not going anywhere with you.” Vander comes around the bar and starts toward Silco but Benzo gets up quickly from the stool and stops him. 

You look between Silco and Vander, still confused.

“I think that’s for her to decide.” Silco smirks up at Vander who stands almost a foot above him.

You turn to Vander, with furrowed brows. This man is the one who gave you life again, the man who is like a father to you. The man you owe your life to. If he says you shouldn’t go… then shouldn’t you listen to him?

[mysticmutants]

not a lot, just forever (pt.2)

summary: weddings weren’t logans thing, but being at one with you made him mind them a whole lot less. your (not so) subtle confession may have helped—but now it’s his turn to make the next move.

pairing: logan howlett x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: romcom themes, weddings, possible ooc!logan, reader is described as wearing a dress

authors note: thank you to everyone who read and interacted w my first fic. it genuinely means so much! here’s a part two for everyone who was asking<3 I’ll be working on requests over the next few days, feel free to keep them coming loves! part 1 is on my profile (still figuring out hyperlinks and such, masterlist will be coming soon!) ౨ৎ

logan doesn’t think he’s ever been more excited for a party. whenever there’s been a gathering or a social event at the mansion in the past, he’s been enthusiastic, sure, but mostly at the prospect of being able to get drunk off of his ass—not having to deal with the heavy weight that finds its home in his chest when he’s sober.

this time, though, it’s not the liquor. that’s almost the last thing on his mind, for the first time in years. right now, all he can think of is you. you in your dress, your perfume overwhelming his senses in the best way possible.

his heart finds a shaky rhythm in his chest as time inches on, throwing noncommittal glances at the altar where jean and scott exchange their vows. his knee bounces up and down sporadically, as he attempts to subdue his racing mind. he can feel you next to him, feel the heat radiating off of you—or was that him? he wasn’t so sure. he steals small glances at you, biting back the urge to reach for your hand; settling instead for resting his arm on the back of your chair.

he almost lets out a cheer when everyone begins filing out of the venue—ripping him from his thoughts. his eyes catch on you momentarily, breath hitching in his throat at the mere sight of you, holding up your dress and treading carefully on the grass. if he was bolder, less reserved, he’d extend an arm and help you. as everyone gathers outside, cooing at the newlyweds, he’s only focused on one thing.

the bouquet.

everyone knew the old wives tale. whoever catches the bouquet, is next on the list to get hitched. determination swells in his his chest, eyeing the assortment of pink and white blooms that rest in jeans arms.

he observes the surrounding area as photographers flash a few pictures of the couple— the more animal side of his brain working overtime, like a wolf stalking a caribou. he doubts that he’ll actually go for it, too rational to do something so childish. it seems he has no choice, however, because as soon as he sees a flash of pink and white against the blue sky, he’s already taken off—as though his legs made up his mind for him. he weaves through the crowd, hushed apologies falling past his lips. once he reaches the clearing, he jumps off, reaching for his prize. a smug grin adorns his lips, as he grazes the wrapping of the flowers—only to have it jerked away from him.

his brow furrows as feet meet solid ground once more, only to soften when his eyes lay upon the person who actually caught the bundle of flowers.

you stand in front of him, eyes locking with his. any frustration in his mind is washed clean as he sees the grin on your face, flushed cheeks. you stay gazing at him for a little too long; even as your shared friends gather to congratulate you.

those who were close to you, though—namely your teammates— knew that this meant something deeper. anyone who knew logan could tell that he had feelings for you, and vice versa. the stolen glances, hands brushing as you walk side by side.

as the throng of people begin to head for their cars, logan tries to spot you in the crowd, itching to tell you how he feels—to confess— spilling every emotion he’s ever felt for you onto the dirt for you to do as you please with. he sighs gruffly, heading for his motorcycle.

the road to the mansion is practically ingrained into his memory, unfortunately giving him enough time to overthink the rest of his evening. what if he misread? what if you changed your mind? what if he got you hurt? what if it was actually about someone else? like scott, or hank.

please don’t let it be scott.

he pulls up to the large building, gates propped open to allow guests easy entry. upon entering the room where the reception is held, his eyes immediately search for you: something that’s become a daily occurrence in his life since you stumbled into it. when he finds you, you’re already there, staring right back at him. if he had a tail, it would be wagging.

he rolls up his shirtsleeves, tugging at his tie anxiously, hating the way it clings to his throat. he clears his throat gruffly, swallowing his pride before starting across the polished wood floor, directly to you. he stands in front of you, his cheeks flushed this time.

“hey,”

he starts, any plan or script he had in mind abandoned once he saw your face. placing a palm on the back of his neck, his jaw tightens.

feelings.

logan had seen the worst parts of humanity. its darkest corners—and conquered it. risen above. yet feelings, were something he could never seem to overcome. but he’d be damned if he didn’t try for you.

“logan,” you speak, voice soft and low. he knew you. you hated to see him struggle—always wanted to finish his sentences so he didn’t have to say the hard things. he raises a hand, stopping you in your tracks. “let me,” he huffs. he takes a moment to look at you, really look at you. your parted lips, pupils wide. he has all the courage he needs.

sucking in a deep breath, he finds his footing.

“you were right. about me, i mean. i am scared. fuckin’ terrified, actually. im…” he trails off, swallowing hard in an attempt to regain himself, to soothe his racing mind. “telling you this— telling you how I feel, scared me, darlin’. but after you telling me you felt the same I realized that… never getting the chance to hold you—at least not in the way I want to—scares me a hell of a lot more.” he finishes, gazing at his feet. if he met your eyes right now, he didn’t know if he’d be able to continue, his brain screaming at him to give into fear. to run away.

for once he didn’t want to run. not this time. silence hangs in the air for a moment after his words, the anticipation allowing him to drag his eyes up your body, meeting yours.

before he can register, there’s a hand on his jaw, and one on the back of his neck pulling him closer. your foreheads meet, dark eyes gazing into yours. he almost melts at the way you look at him. doe eyed, completely at his mercy. he meets you halfway, plush lips meet his. shaky hands wind around your waist, tugging you in closer to him.

for a moment, the world stops.

it’s just you two. no nightmares, no impending doom. just this.

as you both pull back, logans heart calms in his chest. for the first time in a long time. he can breathe, actually think—cathartic. his eyes stay closed, chin coming to rest atop your head as he pulls you into him.

“I love you.”

your words make him jump a little. he knew what he was feeling. he had for a long time—too scared to admit it to himself. he softens after a moment, warmth filling his chest. it felt right. his right person.

“I love you too.”

as you pull back, world around you seemingly coming back to life— a slow song plays from the speakers softly, couples and friends gathering to dance. a hand reaches for logans wrist, guiding him to the dance floor.

his hands find their place around your waist, yours around his neck. your bodies intertwine, your face to his chest and his chin on your head. his eyes flutter shut, heightened hearing tuning out everything around him, focusing in on your heartbeat. steady, soft. home.

you sway softly, gathered by friends, and loved ones.

the beginning of forever.

[kingofthering-two]

Hi guys, Maïna / kingofthering here. You might have heard or noticed that I got my account terminated yesterday (and had the joy to discover you don’t just lose your sideblog but all the blogs associated with your account).

What happened? As I mentioned last week, I received my 2nd strike for copyright infringement on the 11th of December and I protested it (sent a DMCA counter notice) on the 12th. Tumblr forwarded the counter notice to the claimant on the 16th, leaving them 10 business days to answer before I could get the strike taken away and the content restored. Unfortunately, yesterday, on the 19th, I received my third strike and it came with the termination of my account. 

How is it fair that tumblr lets you receive a new strike so soon after the precedent one, when you couldn’t even have the time to finish fighting the first one? I legitimately don’t know. I’ve tried to contact them about this but they don’t treat the messages since it’s coming from a terminated account. I think I need to send the message with another email address, which I might do later.

Could my account come back? In theory, from what I’ve read online, yes, but that remains to be seen from my end for me to be completely sure of that. My only current hope is for the blog to reappear when I get my first and second strikes removed (the first is from January but I never thought of fighting it before because it was videos so I thought they didn’t stand a chance but now I genuinely believe the type of content doesn’t matter). 

In September, there were 14 days between the counter notice being sent and me getting my content back (10 business days + weekends) and I suppose we might have to take into account Christmas here. I think that in the best case scenario, I might hear from tumblr on the 30th of December, maybe the 31st.

What now? I briefly considered using this as a (forced) break from tumblr. I tried to have one earlier this year and failed miserably. I think that the older I get, the less patience and tolerance I have for things that annoy me (and get past the filtering system) (but also things outside of tumblr, seeing my gifs get reposted to twitter, something that happened again recently, really annoys the fuck out of me). But, at the end of the day, the good outweighs the bad (annoying) far much, when it comes to this website and this community. If I check my tumblr app screentime on my phone, I might cry at how bad it is. I do want to finish the projects I have ongoing (the RPF survey answers will be studied and treated and shared) and keep in touch with everything happening on here.

I’m going to use this current account to browse tumblr at least until the end of the year. I’ve already seen glimpses of stories that I need to catch up on and I’ve seen you guys being very supportive already (thank you) so I felt like making myself reachable here was better. Posting wise, I’ll probably post about things that I know are safe i.e. things of my own (stats, my progress on the 2025 journals) and gifs of things not coming from Dorna (e.g. reels/tiktoks, podcast videos).

What then? The only thing I can tell you for sure is that no matter what happens next, I’m going to create an archive blog on a separate account (with a dedicated email address). This blog will not have posts of its own but only reblogs of content I originally posted on kingofthering. If I can have my old account back, the job will be made much easier (and will obviously be more complete). If not, I’ll have to rely on a lot of research to get things back as best as I can. Don’t worry about this for now, I’m going to wait until I know for sure about my old account to start the process (since the method will be very different depending on the answer on that).

For 2025, we will see. The thing is, even if I get my account back, I know that I will keep getting strikes (even if I’m not posting anything because old posts of mine have been targeted as well) and honestly, even if fighting them works, it’s both stressful and exhausting. Also, people have been winning the battles against the strikes for now but who knows how long that will last.

And like I mentioned, it’s a sideblog connected to all my other blogs which also depend on kingofthering’s faith. That includes my main blog that I’ve had since 2011 (I don’t use it much but I use it to keep all the useful stuff like the photoshop tutorials, writing prompts, etc), my hockey sideblog (not been using it much either lately but it does have some history I’d like to keep) and a bunch of others.

A solution to keep those other accounts safe would probably be to move everything motorsports related to a new account (maybe this one if I can get my main back) and delete the original kingofthering. It would pain me because of the history of this blog and what I would lose in the process (mostly the asks I haven’t gotten to answer and obviously the following that I had grown but I suppose that I can grow back little by little). It would also mean I couldn’t see anymore the posts in my notes and the tags people add to their reblogs (which is like half the purpose of posting in the first place) and that’s annoying as well but I suppose I could grieve that too, in theory.

If I don’t even get the account back, well. I talk about creating a new dedicated account but if it also gets striked (which I suppose will happen), it will be equally exhausting to fight fo it so, I don’t even know if I want to do that.

At this point, I know which content is safe for sure (or what has been safe so far for me) and there are still a lot of stuff that I enjoy sharing with you and getting your opinion on but giffing race weekends was the major part of my blog and I don’t know how I feel about giving that up. Anyway, much thoughts to have still.

Can you do something to help? I don’t think so. Or, well, not with recuperating my account. In regards with the copyright issue as a whole, though? I don’t know what to say because I don’t know what’s the best course of action there. I’ve seen some discussions around about emails and a petition and involving other social media and bigger people but I genuinely don’t know what’s the best thing to do. I’ve personally always considered tumblr as this little (safe for everything) bubble and I don’t exactly feel comfortable “exposing” some of my content here to the rest of the world (some people on tumblr are already mean enough about RPF, I don’t need to see what people not on here have to say about it). That’s obviously just me and I’m not going to keep anyone from doing what they think is right. Part of me wants to believe that things will fix themselves once Liberty Media take over but that’s not a sure thing and the frequency of strikes lately has been quite worrying so I understand the need to do something. Some thinking over to do there too.

Where can you find me? For tumblr, on here for now. I’m going to post this on the motogp tag and I’ll try to follow my mutuals (from memory so, going to miss a lot of people for sure, sorry in advance). I might appreciate a reblog of this post to spread the word. I still have my twitter (mostly talking stats), the blog and my tiktok (barely being used but still in existence).

If I do the set ups correctly I’ll have my DMs open here and askbox open to anons. I am still bad at answering those, though, so apologies in advance there as well.

(Also, I just got home for the holidays and literally learned about the news when I was in the train yesterday afternoon, so, worst timing ever.)

[pinkmoontaco]

It all started with a song || Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Producer-Idol Jihoon x Producer-Solo Idol Reader

Genre: Fluff, Idol romance

Summary: Jihoon, the reserved genius of SEVENTEEN, unexpectedly finds himself drawn to Y/N, a rising junior idol from HYBE, after collaborating on a duet. What starts as a professional partnership blossom into a heartfelt romance, captured in their respective songs

Author's note: This is my first time writing a story, and I truly appreciate you giving it a chance. Please forgive me if there are any mistakes—I’m still learning and growing as a writer. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and support my work. It means the world to me, and I hope you enjoy the journey I’ve created.

Jihoon was preparing to release his solo album, which included a heartfelt duet about two lovers. After finishing his own parts, his next challenge was to find the perfect female lead for the song. With Bumzu’s help, he sifted through several demos of the female section.

After an exhaustive search, one demo finally stood out to him—it was exactly what he was looking for. When Bumzu visited him the next day, he asked, “Did any of the lyrics catch your attention?”

Jihoon nodded and showed him the demo.

“Oh, so you liked Y/N’s lyrics,” Bumzu said with a knowing smile. That’s when Jihoon learned that the lyrics had been written by Y/N, a junior solo idol from HYBE.

“You’ve never met her, have you?” Bumzu asked.

Jihoon shook his head. It was no surprise—everyone knew Jihoon wasn’t one to socialize much.

“I’ll bring her to the studio tomorrow,” Bumzu said confidently before heading out, leaving Jihoon to ponder the upcoming meeting.

The next day, Jihoon arrived at the studio earlier than usual, his mind a mix of anticipation and curiosity. He wasn’t sure what to expect. He knew Y/N by name, but meeting her in person would be different.

As he set up his equipment, the door swung open, and Bumzu walked in with a bright grin. Behind him was Y/N, her presence soft yet commanding. She wore a simple outfit, but her confidence and aura made it clear why she was a rising star.

“Jihoon, meet Y/N,” Bumzu introduced.

Jihoon stood, his usual calm demeanor masking his nerves. “Hi,” he greeted simply, bowing slightly.

“Hi! It’s so great to finally meet you Sunbae-nim" Y/N said with a warm smile. Her voice was light and melodic, just as he’d imagined. “I’ve heard so much about you and your music.”

“Likewise, but please don't call me sunbae-nim, you can call me by my name,” Jihoon replied, his words brief but sincere.

Bumzu clapped his hands together, breaking the silence. “Alright, let’s get to work! You two have a duet to perfect.”

Jihoon gestured toward the recording booth, silently inviting Y/N to take her place. As they started working through the song, Jihoon found himself impressed—not just by her vocal ability but by her understanding of the emotions behind the lyrics.

They went over the harmonies and phrasing, fine-tuning every detail. By the end of the session, Jihoon was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly everything had gone. Y/N wasn’t just talented; she was professional and insightful, bringing a depth to the song that exceeded his expectations.

“You’re really good,” Jihoon said as they wrapped up, his tone earnest.

Y/N beamed. “Thank you! Your composition is amazing—it makes it easy to connect with the song.”

For the first time in a while, Jihoon felt a genuine sense of excitement about the project. Maybe working with others wasn’t so bad after all.

After their first session, Jihoon couldn’t stop thinking about how seamlessly Y/N had brought the song to life. It was rare for him to feel this level of connection with another artist, especially so quickly.

The next day, Bumzu texted Jihoon. "How was it working with Y/N? She said she had a great time."

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before typing back. "She’s talented. The song’s coming together well."

Bumzu responded with a teasing emoji. "That’s high praise from you! Maybe you should tell her that in person."

Jihoon frowned slightly but didn’t reply. Compliments weren’t exactly his strong suit.

Their second studio session was scheduled later that week. Y/N arrived on time, as cheerful and prepared as before. Jihoon noticed how her energy seemed to brighten the room, even when she was just warming up.

“Good morning!” she greeted with a bright smile.

Jihoon nodded. “Morning. Ready to dive in?”

“Always,” she said confidently.

As they worked through the song again, Jihoon found himself more at ease. Y/N’s suggestions were thoughtful, and she wasn’t afraid to ask questions or offer input, which he appreciated. Somewhere in between harmonizing and tweaking lines, they started to find a rhythm—not just in the music, but in their conversations.

During a short break, Y/N leaned back in her chair. “You know, Jihoon, this is one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever worked on. It feels so raw and real.”

Jihoon glanced at her, caught off guard by her sincerity. “Thanks. That means a lot,” he said quietly.

“Is it based on a personal experience?” she asked cautiously, as if afraid to overstep.

He hesitated for a moment before replying. “Kind of. It’s… inspired by the idea of love. Not necessarily mine, though.”

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. “I get it. Sometimes it’s easier to write about emotions from a distance.”

Jihoon nodded, appreciating her understanding. Their conversation drifted to other topics—music, inspirations, and even random stories about life as idols. For someone he’d only met recently, Y/N was surprisingly easy to talk to.

By the end of the session, the song was nearly complete. As they packed up, Y/N turned to Jihoon.

“I think this duet is going to be really special,” she said. “Thank you for letting me be part of it.”

Jihoon looked at her, feeling a rare warmth in her words. “You brought the song to life. I should be thanking you.”

Her eyes lit up at his unexpected praise. “Well, I guess we make a pretty good team,” she said with a grin.

Jihoon allowed himself a small smile. “Yeah, we do.”

As Y/N left the studio that day, Jihoon couldn’t help but think that meeting her had been one of the best things to happen during this project.

In the weeks that followed, Jihoon and Y/N spent more time together polishing their duet. Each session seemed to bring them closer, not just as collaborators but as individuals. Y/N’s infectious laughter and unfiltered enthusiasm often pulled Jihoon out of his shell, while Jihoon’s quiet determination and thoughtful approach inspired Y/N to push herself even further.

One day, as they wrapped up the final recording, Bumzu entered the studio with a wide grin. “So, how does it feel to be done?”

Y/N clapped her hands together excitedly. “It feels amazing! I can’t wait for people to hear it.”

Jihoon nodded in agreement, his usual stoicism giving way to a subtle but genuine smile. “It’s better than I imagined.”

Bumzu raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Wow, Jihoon actually giving compliments? I need to write this down.”

Y/N laughed. “He’s not that bad. He’s just… selective with his words.”

Jihoon shot her a mock glare, but there was no malice behind it. Instead, he found himself smiling along with her—a rare occurrence that didn’t go unnoticed by Bumzu.

As they packed up, Bumzu pulled Jihoon aside. “You know, you’ve changed a bit since working with her,” he said casually.

Jihoon frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you seem… lighter. Happier, even,” Bumzu said with a knowing grin. “It’s a good look on you.”

Jihoon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he glanced over at Y/N, who was chatting animatedly with a staff member. There was something about her—something that made him feel less burdened, more open to the world around him.

The song’s release day arrived, and the response was overwhelming. Fans praised the emotional depth of the duet, calling it one of Jihoon’s best works yet. Many were also captivated by the chemistry between Jihoon and Y/N, evident not just in their vocals but in the behind-the-scenes clips shared online.

As they stood backstage during a live performance, Y/N turned to Jihoon. “Are you nervous?” she asked, noticing his unusually quiet demeanor.

“A little,” he admitted. “Not about the song, though. I just hope people feel what we tried to convey.”

Y/N placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “They will. This song has so much heart in it. You’ve poured yourself into it, and I’ve never been prouder to be part of something.”

Her words struck a chord with Jihoon. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel alone in his creative journey. “Thank you,” he said softly.

When they stepped on stage and began to sing, Jihoon realized something unexpected. The song, which he’d once viewed as merely a project, had become something far more personal. And in that moment, as their voices blended and the audience’s applause filled the air, Jihoon understood just how much Y/N had changed his perspective—not just on music, but on life itself.

After the performance, Y/N grinned at him. “See? We nailed it.”

Jihoon met her gaze, his expression warm. “We really did.”

And as they walked off stage together, Jihoon couldn’t help but think that this was only the beginning of a story far greater than either of them had anticipated.

In the days following the song's release, the hype only grew. The other members of SEVENTEEN were quick to congratulate Jihoon. Mingyu, with his ever-present energy, was the first to bring it up during one of their group practice sessions.

“Hyung! That duet is insane! Everyone’s talking about you and Y/N,” Mingyu said, clapping him on the back.

Joshua added with a smile, “Yeah, the fans are loving the chemistry. You two sounded amazing together.”

Jihoon felt a rare flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks. “Thanks, guys. It was a lot of work, but she made it easier.”

“Oh-ho!” Seungkwan chimed in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hyung admitting someone made his life easier? This must be a first!”

The room erupted into laughter. Even Jeonghan, who always had a teasing comment up his sleeve, smirked. “So when do we get to meet this famous Y/N?”

Before Jihoon could respond, the studio door creaked open and in walked Bumzu—with Y/N beside him. The sudden appearance of their guest caught everyone’s attention.

“Speak of the devil!” Vernon said, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N waved nervously, a bit overwhelmed by being surrounded by the full force of SEVENTEEN. “Hi, everyone. It’s nice to finally meet all of you.”

Dino bounded over with enthusiasm. “You’re the one with that amazing voice! Your part in the song gave me chills.”

“Thanks!” Y/N said, her smile growing as she relaxed.

Hoshi, never one to miss a moment, stepped forward and grinned. “Are you ready to dance with us too? Because in SEVENTEEN, we don’t just sing—we dance.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide a small smirk. “Don’t scare her off, Hoshi.”

Y/N laughed, feeling at ease now. “I’d love to try sometime, but I don’t think I could keep up with you guys. I’m more of a singer than a dancer.”

Jun nudged Jihoon playfully. “Looks like you’re not the only one who’s found a great collaborator.”

Over the next hour, SEVENTEEN welcomed Y/N into their world, joking and sharing stories. The room was filled with laughter, the group’s usual dynamic enriched by a new presence. Jihoon found himself observing the way Y/N blended in so effortlessly, as if she’d been part of their chaotic family all along.

As the evening went on, Minghao approached Jihoon with a knowing smile. “You look happy,” he said simply.

Jihoon glanced at Y/N, who was now in an animated conversation with DK and Woozi, sharing anecdotes about their vocal warm-ups. A small, content smile played on his lips. “I guess I am.”

A few weeks later, SEVENTEEN was preparing for a group livestream, and Y/N was invited to join as a surprise guest. Jihoon wasn’t thrilled about the idea at first—he preferred to keep things professional—but the rest of the members were insistent.

“Come on, Jihoon,” Seungkwan pleaded. “The fans already love you two together. This will be fun!”

“It’s a great way to promote the song even more,” Mingyu added. “Plus, we want to see how she handles being in one of our chaotic lives.”

Reluctantly, Jihoon agreed, and Y/N arrived at the dorm just as the livestream was about to begin.

“Is this what it’s like before you go live?” Y/N asked, watching the members scramble to adjust cameras, lights, and snacks.

“Always,” Jeonghan said with a smirk. “It’s controlled chaos.”

As the livestream began, fans flooded the chat with comments. The members introduced Y/N, and the reaction was overwhelmingly positive.

“Y/N’s here! OMG!”

“She and Jihoon look so good together!”

“The duet is my favorite song right now!”

Jihoon, who was reading the comments on his phone, shifted uncomfortably but managed a small smile. “The fans seem happy,” he said quietly to Y/N.

“They’re so sweet,” Y/N replied, her eyes scanning the messages.

The members took turns asking her questions, each one more playful than the last.

“Hoshi,” Y/N said, laughing, “why are you asking if I’d join the Performance Team? I just told you I’m not much of a dancer!”

“Because we can teach you,” Hoshi replied with a dramatic flourish.

DK chimed in, “Or you can join the Vocal Team! We need more people who can hit those high notes.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Minghao said. “You’re a solo artist. Stay in your lane before they rope you into our madness.”

The banter continued until Seungkwan leaned into the camera and asked the question everyone wanted to know.

“So, Y/N, how’s it working with Jihoon?”

The chat exploded with reactions.

Y/N glanced at Jihoon, who was clearly caught off guard but tried to mask it. She smiled. “Honestly? It’s been amazing. He’s a perfectionist, but in the best way. I’ve learned so much from him.”

Jihoon cleared his throat, his ears tinged pink. “She’s talented, so it wasn’t hard to work with her,” he said simply, earning exaggerated “oohs” from the members.

As the livestream continued, Y/N fit right in with SEVENTEEN’s dynamic, laughing and joking with them like she’d known them for years. Fans in the chat began calling her an “honorary 14th member,” a title that made her laugh but also secretly warmed Jihoon’s heart.

After the livestream ended, the members sprawled across the couch, tired but happy.

“You handled that like a pro,” Mingyu said, tossing a cushion at Y/N.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, catching the cushion. “You guys are a lot of fun. I can see why your fans love you so much.”

As the group began to disperse, Jihoon found himself alone with Y/N for the first time that evening.

“You were great today,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

“Thanks. I was a little nervous, but you all made it easy,” Y/N said, leaning against the back of the couch. “Your members are like family, huh?”

Jihoon nodded. “They are. It’s chaotic, but it’s… home.”

Y/N smiled. “I can tell. You’re lucky to have that.”

There was a comfortable silence between them before Y/N added, “And thanks for letting me be part of all this. I didn’t expect to be welcomed so warmly.”

Jihoon met her gaze, his usual stoicism softening. “You’re part of it now. Whether you like it or not.”

Her laughter filled the room, light and genuine. “I think I like it.”

And for the first time in a long while, Jihoon felt like the walls he’d built around himself were no longer as important.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N continued to bond with SEVENTEEN. She found herself invited to more studio sessions, group meals, and even impromptu dance practices. Despite her initial hesitation about being in the spotlight alongside such a well-known group, their warmth made her feel at home.

Jihoon, on the other hand, started noticing the subtle ways Y/N was changing the dynamic around him. She wasn’t just a collaborator anymore; she was becoming a friend. Someone who could pull him out of his creative tunnel and remind him to enjoy the little moments.

One day, after a long recording session, the group decided to hang out at their dorm. Y/N hesitated when Seungkwan invited her along.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” she said.

“You? Intruding?” Seungkwan scoffed. “You’re practically one of us now. Come on!”

When they arrived at the dorm, chaos quickly ensued. Mingyu was in the kitchen, trying to cook something “special,” while Hoshi and Dino argued over which choreography to show Y/N.

Jihoon sat on the couch, quietly observing the scene. Y/N was laughing with Jeonghan, who was undoubtedly up to some mischief. He couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“You like her, don’t you?” Minghao’s voice pulled Jihoon from his thoughts.

Jihoon turned to him, his expression unreadable. “What are you talking about?”

Minghao smirked. “You’re not as subtle as you think. The way you look at her—it’s different.”

Jihoon sighed, leaning back against the couch. “She’s… easy to be around. That’s all.”

“Sure,” Minghao said, clearly unconvinced. “Just don’t wait too long to figure it out.”

Later that evening, as everyone settled in for a movie, Jihoon found himself sitting next to Y/N. The room was dimly lit, and the sound of laughter and popcorn crunching filled the air.

Y/N leaned closer to whisper, “Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys. I didn’t expect this when we started working on the song.”

Jihoon glanced at her, the soft glow of the TV reflecting in her eyes. “You’re not just here because of the song anymore. They like you. I… like having you around.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his admission, a soft smile forming on her lips. “I like being around you too, Jihoon.”

For a moment, the noise of the room faded, and it was just the two of them, sitting closer than either realized.

“Jihoon! Pass the popcorn!” DK’s voice broke the moment, and Jihoon blinked, quickly grabbing the bowl to hand over.

Y/N chuckled softly, leaning back into the couch. The warmth between them lingered, unspoken but undeniable.

As the weeks turned into months, their bond deepened. Whether it was through shared late-night studio sessions, casual dinners with the group, or quiet moments away from the chaos, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves drawn closer together.

And while neither of them said it out loud, they both knew that what had started as a simple duet had grown into something far more meaningful.

As time passed, Jihoon and Y/N’s bond became increasingly apparent to everyone around them. The other members of SEVENTEEN had a field day teasing Jihoon about it, though they were careful not to push him too far. Y/N, on the other hand, took it all in stride, her easygoing nature making her a natural fit within the group’s chaotic but loving dynamic.

One day, they found themselves in the studio late at night, working on a new song. The other members had already gone home, leaving just the two of them.

Y/N leaned over the desk, scrolling through the playlist Jihoon had prepared for inspiration. “This one’s good,” she said, pointing to a track.

Jihoon nodded, playing it without hesitation. The soft melody filled the room, and they both sat in comfortable silence, letting the music wash over them.

After a while, Y/N broke the quiet. “Do you ever think about what this all means? The music, the fans, everything we do?”

Jihoon looked at her, surprised by the sudden introspection. “All the time,” he admitted. “It’s why I work so hard. I want it to mean something—to leave something behind that matters.”

She smiled softly. “You already do. Your music touches so many people, Jihoon. Including me.”

He felt a warmth spread through him at her words. “What about you? What does it mean to you?”

Y/N took a moment to think before answering. “It’s about connection. Every lyric, every note… it’s a way to reach people, to let them know they’re not alone. I think that’s why I love working with you. You get that.”

For a moment, Jihoon was at a loss for words. Her sincerity, her openness—it was something he wasn’t used to but found himself drawn to.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “I don’t say this often, but… you’ve changed the way I look at things. Working with you—it’s made me realize how much more music can be when it’s shared.”

She looked at him, her eyes shining with gratitude. “You don’t know how much that means to me, coming from you.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the room. But before either of them could say more, Jihoon’s phone buzzed, breaking the moment.

The next morning, as they arrived at the practice room, the other members were already there. Hoshi immediately noticed the way Jihoon and Y/N seemed closer than usual.

“Did something happen last night?” he asked, his eyes darting between the two.

“Nothing happened,” Jihoon replied quickly, his ears turning pink.

Y/N, however, laughed. “We were just working on music. Don’t let your imagination run wild.”

The members didn’t buy it, but they let it go—for now.

Later that week, the group had a fan meeting, and Y/N was invited as a special guest to perform their duet live for the first time since its release. The fans erupted into cheers as Jihoon and Y/N took the stage together, their voices blending seamlessly as they sang.

During the performance, Jihoon couldn’t help but glance at Y/N, her presence radiating warmth and confidence. He realized that what had started as a professional partnership had grown into something far more personal.

After the performance, as they stood backstage, Y/N turned to Jihoon, her eyes sparkling. “That was incredible. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before replying. “Thank you… for everything.”

Y/N smiled, her hand lightly brushing his arm. And in that moment, Jihoon knew that whatever this was between them—friendship, partnership, or something more—he wasn’t ready to let it go.

A few days after their fan meeting, the duet performance went viral. Clips of Jihoon and Y/N on stage, their undeniable chemistry and harmonies, flooded social media. Fans couldn’t stop talking about how perfectly their voices blended and how natural their interactions seemed.

The buzz didn’t go unnoticed by SEVENTEEN.

“Have you seen the comments?” Seungkwan said, shoving his phone in front of Jihoon’s face during a break in practice.

Jihoon glanced at the screen, where fans had flooded the comments section with messages like:

“They’re perfect together!”

“Jihoon and Y/N need to release a whole album together!”

“Am I the only one who feels like there’s more to their story?”

Jihoon sighed, pushing the phone away. “It’s just the fans. They like to speculate.”

“But they’re not wrong,” Mingyu chimed in with a sly grin.

“Not you too,” Jihoon groaned.

That evening, Y/N visited the dorm for what was supposed to be a casual hangout. As usual, the members couldn’t help but stir the pot.

“So, Y/N,” Jeonghan started, leaning casually against the couch, “what’s it like being the most shipped person with Jihoon right now?”

Y/N nearly choked on her drink. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Hoshi said, joining in. “The fans are calling you the ‘power duo.’ Some are even saying you’re a better fit than us!”

“Don’t listen to them,” Jihoon muttered, his ears turning pink.

Y/N, recovering from her initial shock, laughed. “Well, I guess it’s a compliment? I mean, Jihoon is an incredible artist, so I’m honored.”

The room erupted in exaggerated “oohs,” with Seungkwan dramatically fanning Jihoon. “Did you hear that? She called you incredible!”

Jihoon buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Why do I even let you all talk?”

Despite the teasing, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at Y/N’s words. She always had a way of making him feel seen—not just as an artist but as a person.

Later that night, after everyone had settled down, Y/N and Jihoon found themselves alone on the dorm balcony, overlooking the city lights.

“It’s been a wild night, huh?” Y/N said, leaning against the railing.

Jihoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the skyline. “Yeah. I didn’t expect any of this when we started working together.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. “But I’m glad it happened. I’ve learned so much—not just about music but about myself.”

Jihoon glanced at her, his expression softening. “You’ve changed a lot of things for me, too. I didn’t realize how much I needed someone to remind me why I love what I do.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in his voice. “Jihoon… I—”

Before she could finish, the balcony door slid open, and Mingyu stuck his head out. “Hey, are you two having a moment? Because we’ve got snacks inside.”

Y/N burst out laughing, while Jihoon groaned. “You have the worst timing, Mingyu.”

Mingyu grinned. “That’s what I’m here for.”

As the night went on, the teasing and camaraderie continued, but something had shifted between Jihoon and Y/N. Though unspoken, there was an understanding growing between them—one that neither was ready to confront just yet but couldn’t deny any longer.

And as Jihoon watched Y/N laughing with his members, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something he’d been searching for without even realizing it.

The weeks passed, and Jihoon found himself unable to shake the feeling that had been slowly growing inside him. Every time Y/N smiled, every time their eyes met during a quiet moment, something in his chest fluttered. He had always been someone who let his music speak for him, but this time, it wasn’t enough just to express himself through lyrics. He needed to tell her, to be vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been with anyone before.

But how?

It was during a late-night studio session, after everyone else had left for the day, that Jihoon decided to do something about it. He had spent hours working on the song, tweaking the melody, perfecting the lyrics, and now it was ready.

The track wasn’t like anything he had made before. It was softer, more personal, and every note seemed to come straight from his heart. He had poured his feelings into it, capturing the emotions that he couldn’t say out loud. It was a love song. And the subject of it? None other than Y/N.

The next day, Jihoon invited Y/N to the studio under the guise of working on new material. She arrived, always eager to help or collaborate, but there was something different about Jihoon’s demeanor that caught her attention.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she walked into the studio. “You’ve been acting a little… off lately.”

Jihoon avoided her gaze, fiddling with the soundboard for a moment. “I… I have something I want to play for you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, curious. “A new song?”

He nodded, his throat tightening slightly. “Yeah. But it’s… different.”

Y/N walked over to him and sat down, her eyes fixed on him. “I’m all ears, Jihoon.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment longer before hitting play. The soft, melodic intro filled the room, and Y/N was immediately drawn into the haunting beauty of the song. As the lyrics began, she felt a stirring in her chest. The song felt… personal. Deeply personal.

She listened intently, her heart racing as the chorus hit, and Jihoon’s voice filled the space:

“I didn’t know how to say it, but now I know it’s true, Every moment with you feels like I’ve found something new. In the silence, in the music, in the things I never said, I’m falling for you, I’m falling for you, And I can’t take it back.”

The song went on, each lyric pulling Y/N deeper into the emotions Jihoon had poured into it. By the end, the room was thick with the unspoken words hanging in the air. The music faded, and for a few moments, there was silence.

Y/N slowly turned to look at Jihoon, her eyes wide with realization. “Jihoon… that song…”

He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s for you.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She had known there was something between them, something that had grown over time, but hearing him express it so clearly, through music, felt like a confession she hadn’t expected.

“Jihoon…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He finally met her gaze, his eyes vulnerable in a way she had never seen before. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, trying to tell myself I was just… overthinking. But every time you’re near, every time you smile, it feels like something more. I think… I think I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. And I couldn’t hide it anymore. Not after writing this song for you.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she processed his words, her own emotions swirling within her. She had felt it too—the connection, the way everything felt more meaningful when they were together. But hearing him say it out loud made it all so real.

She took a step closer, her voice soft but steady. “I’ve been feeling the same way, Jihoon.”

His eyes widened, and he took a step toward her as well. “Really?”

She nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve been too afraid to admit it, but… I’ve been falling for you, too. Maybe I didn’t want to admit it because I didn’t know if you felt the same, but… I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The tension that had built between them in the past few months suddenly lifted. Jihoon, overcome with relief and happiness, took her hand gently.

“Then… do you think we can figure this out together?” he asked softly.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling. “I’d like that very much.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything else. The weight of the confession hung in the air, but the silence felt comfortable, like a shared understanding.

Jihoon squeezed her hand gently. “I don’t know what comes next, but I want to find out with you.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes shining. “Me too.”

And as they stood there, hand in hand, Jihoon knew that this song, the one that had started as a way to express his feelings, was just the beginning of a new chapter for them both.

For a few weeks, Jihoon and Y/N managed to keep their budding relationship under wraps. They weren’t intentionally hiding it, but neither of them was ready to face the whirlwind of teasing that would inevitably come from SEVENTEEN.

However, secrets rarely lasted long in a group as close-knit and nosy as SEVENTEEN.

It all started during a practice session. Jihoon had left his phone on the bench while the group worked through choreography, and a text from Y/N popped up on the screen:

Y/N: Can’t wait to see you tonight ❤️

Seungkwan, ever the observant one, noticed the notification first. “Oh? Hyung, care to explain this?” he asked, holding up the phone with a mischievous grin.

Jihoon froze mid-step, his face instantly turning crimson. “Give me that!” he snapped, rushing over to grab the phone.

But it was too late. Seungkwan had already shared the discovery with Hoshi and Jeonghan, who were now looking at Jihoon with matching expressions of glee.

“‘Can’t wait to see you tonight?’” Jeonghan teased, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “Jihoon, do you have plans we should know about?”

The rest of the group quickly caught on, gathering around as Jihoon struggled to come up with an excuse.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Nothing?” Hoshi said, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like something to me.”

“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” Mingyu blurted out. The room went silent for a moment as everyone processed the possibility.

Jihoon sighed, realizing there was no escape. “Fine. Yes. It’s Y/N. We’re… dating.”

The room erupted into chaos.

“What?!” Seungkwan exclaimed, looking both shocked and delighted. “When did this happen?”

“Jihoon, you sly fox!” Jeonghan said, clapping him on the back.

“You’re dating Y/N, and you didn’t tell us?” Dino pouted. “I thought we were close!”

Jihoon groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, okay? It’s still new, and we didn’t want any unnecessary attention.”

Joshua, ever the voice of reason, stepped in. “Guys, let’s not overwhelm him. It’s Jihoon, after all. This must’ve taken a lot for him to admit.”

“Yeah,” DK added, grinning. “But seriously, Hyung, we’re happy for you. Y/N’s great.”

“She’s not just great,” Minghao said thoughtfully. “She fits in with us, and most importantly, she brings out a side of you we don’t see often. It’s nice.”

Jihoon looked around at his members, their teasing replaced with genuine support, and felt a wave of relief. “Thanks, guys. Just… keep it low-key, okay? We’re not ready for everyone to know yet.”

The group collectively agreed, though Jihoon wasn’t sure he trusted their definition of “low-key.”

That evening, Jihoon met Y/N at their usual spot in the studio. She could tell something was different as soon as he walked in.

“What happened?” she asked, tilting her head.

“They know,” Jihoon said, sitting beside her.

“Who knows?”

“SEVENTEEN,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Oh no. How bad was it?”

Jihoon chuckled despite himself. “About as chaotic as you’d expect. But… they’re happy for us. They promised to keep it a secret, though I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

Y/N smiled, reaching over to take his hand. “Well, I guess it was bound to happen. They’re your family, Jihoon. And honestly, I don’t mind if they know. I like being part of your world.”

Jihoon squeezed her hand, his heart swelling at her words. “You’re more than just part of it, Y/N. You’ve made it better.”

The next day, when Y/N visited the dorm for dinner, the teasing resumed, but it was all in good fun.

“So, Y/N,” Jeonghan said with a sly smile, “what’s it like dating our Jihoon? Is he as romantic as he is in his songs?”

Y/N laughed, glancing at Jihoon, who looked like he wanted to disappear. “He’s perfect,” she said simply, her sincerity making Jihoon’s face flush even more.

The room erupted into cheers and playful jabs, but beneath the chaos, there was a palpable warmth. SEVENTEEN was more than a group—they were a family. And now, Y/N was part of that family, too.

As the night wore on, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel grateful. For his members, for their unwavering support, and most of all, for Y/N, who had somehow become the piece he hadn’t realized was missing from his life.

A few weeks after SEVENTEEN’s comeback promotions wrapped up, Jihoon surprised fans with the announcement of a solo track, titled “Only for You.” The anticipation was palpable, especially after fans connected the dots between the mysterious teasers and Jihoon’s recent duet with Y/N.

When the song finally dropped, it was an instant hit. A tender and emotional ballad, the lyrics told the story of someone realizing they’ve found the one person who completes them. Jihoon’s heartfelt delivery struck a chord with listeners, but eagle-eyed fans noticed something peculiar.

The release coincided with a few subtle interactions between Jihoon and Y/N on social media. Comments like:

“This song feels so personal… is it inspired by someone special?��

“The vibe reminds me of Jihoon and Y/N’s duet. Are we missing something?”

“Wait a second… some of these lyrics feel like they match things Y/N said in interviews!”

The speculation ramped up a notch when, only a few days later, Y/N teased her own solo track, “Echo of You.”

When Y/N’s song dropped, fans were quick to notice that it felt like a reply to Jihoon’s. While Jihoon’s track spoke of falling for someone who brought light into his life, Y/N’s lyrics told the story of being seen and loved for who she truly was.

Lines like:

“I thought I was just a shadow, but your light made me shine.”

“Every melody you wrote felt like a message just for me.”

Fans flooded social media with theories.

“Wait, these songs feel connected. Are they… about each other?”

“Woozi's ‘Only for You’ and Y/N’s ‘Echo of You’ are like two sides of the same love story.”

“If this is real, I’ll cry. They’re perfect together!”

The speculation reached its peak when a fan-made mashup of the two songs went viral, seamlessly blending the tracks into a duet that felt like it was meant to be.

Back at SEVENTEEN’s dorm, the members couldn’t help but join the buzz.

“So,” Seungkwan started, holding up his phone, “the fans are catching on.”

Jihoon groaned, slumping onto the couch. “I knew this would happen.”

“I mean, they’re not wrong,” Jeonghan said, smirking. “The songs do sound like they’re talking to each other.”

Y/N, who had been invited over for dinner, sat beside Jihoon, trying (and failing) to suppress her laughter. “It’s kind of impressive how quickly they picked up on it.”

Joshua leaned forward, grinning. “Are you two going to say anything? Or just let the fans go wild with their theories?”

Jihoon glanced at Y/N, his expression thoughtful. “What do you think?” he asked her.

Y/N smiled softly. “I don’t mind letting them wonder for now. I like that the songs are just ours, even if people are curious.”

The members all groaned in mock frustration.

“You’re both too private for your own good,” Mingyu teased. “Just admit it already and save us the headache!”

“Admit what?” Jihoon shot back, feigning innocence.

“That you two are the main characters in the greatest musical love story ever told,” Hoshi declared dramatically, earning laughter from the group.

Despite the teasing, Jihoon and Y/N decided to keep quiet, letting their music speak for them. The buzz around their songs only grew, with both tracks climbing the charts and becoming fan favorites.

During a live Q&A, Jihoon was inevitably asked about the inspiration for “Only for You.”

“It’s about someone who changed the way I see the world,” he said simply, his expression soft.

When Y/N was asked a similar question about “Echo of You,” she smiled knowingly. “It’s a song about gratitude and love—for someone who helped me realize my worth.”

The fans didn’t need anything more. To them, the connection between the songs—and their creators—was obvious.

One evening, as they sat together in Jihoon’s studio, Y/N turned to him with a playful smile. “So, do you think they’ve figured it out yet?”

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head. “I think they know. They’re just waiting for us to say it out loud.”

“And when do you think we should?” she asked, tilting her head.

Jihoon thought for a moment before replying, his voice warm. “Maybe someday. But for now, I like that the songs tell our story. It feels… special.”

Y/N leaned closer, her hand resting on his. “I like that too.”

The weeks following the dual song releases were a whirlwind. Both tracks dominated the charts, and the fan theories only grew more elaborate. Mashups, fan edits, and endless analysis filled the internet, with fans piecing together subtle interactions and shared moments.

Despite their best efforts to stay under the radar, the buzz became too loud to ignore. SEVENTEEN’s members didn’t make it any easier, constantly dropping playful hints during interviews and live streams.

One day, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves at a joint event where multiple HYBE artists were present. It was a casual, live-streamed Q&A session, and the energy in the room was lively. Fans flooded the chat with questions about collaborations, their music, and, of course, the connection between Jihoon’s and Y/N’s songs.

The host, clearly aware of the buzz, decided to address the elephant in the room.

“So, Woozi-shi and Y/N-shi,” they began, a mischievous glint in their eye. “The fans have been talking nonstop about how your songs seem… connected. Care to comment?”

Jihoon, caught off guard, glanced at Y/N. She met his gaze with a small, encouraging smile, her eyes silently asking, Are you ready?

He hesitated for a moment before leaning into the mic. “Well,” he started, his voice calm but tinged with nervousness, “the fans aren’t wrong. The songs are connected.”

The room fell silent for a moment, everyone—including the other artists—hanging on his every word.

Y/N chimed in, her tone light but honest. “We didn’t plan for it to be a big mystery. We just wrote from our hearts. And, well… our hearts were in the same place.”

The host’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait, are you saying—”

Jihoon nodded, cutting them off gently. “Y/N and I… we’re together. And the songs were our way of telling that story without saying it outright.”

The room erupted into applause, cheers, and a few playful whistles from SEVENTEEN and the other HYBE artists. The fans watching the live stream went wild, the chat filling with messages like:

“I KNEW IT!”

“This is the best plot twist ever!”

“Our musical power couple!”

Later that evening, Jihoon and Y/N sat together backstage, scrolling through the flood of messages on social media.

“Looks like the fans are taking it well,” Y/N said, laughing as she read a particularly enthusiastic comment.

Jihoon smiled, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in weeks. “I guess I shouldn’t have worried so much. They seem… happy for us.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder. “Of course they are. We’ve been honest in the best way we know how—through our music.”

Jihoon wrapped an arm around her, his voice soft. “I’m glad we finally said it. It feels good not to hide anymore.”

She looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Me too.”

As the weeks passed, their relationship became a beloved story among fans. Jihoon and Y/N didn’t share much beyond their music and occasional glimpses of their dynamic, but their authenticity resonated with everyone.

Their next collaboration—a duet explicitly written as a continuation of their story—became one of the most anticipated releases of the year, cementing their status as not just two incredible artists but as a couple who had found love in the heart of their shared passion.

And as Jihoon often said in interviews, with a small, knowing smile: “It all started with a song.”

The announcement of Jihoon and Y/N’s relationship didn’t just excite fans; it gave SEVENTEEN endless new material to tease their usually reserved member. And, of course, they weren’t going to let the opportunity go to waste during their next content shoot.

The group was filming an episode of their popular variety show, “GOING SEVENTEEN,” and the theme for the day was a mock courtroom trial where members had to defend themselves against outrageous (and often ridiculous) accusations.

As the camera rolled, Jeonghan smirked, ready to unleash chaos. “Today, I bring a serious accusation against Jihoon,” he began, standing dramatically as the self-appointed prosecutor.

Jihoon, sitting at the “defendant’s” table, raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

Jeonghan held up an imaginary piece of paper, squinting at it for effect. “Jihoon, you’ve been accused of… secretly writing love songs instead of working on group projects. How do you plead?”

The room erupted in laughter, with Seungkwan clapping his hands. “Guilty! We all know it’s true!”

Jihoon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yes!” Hoshi chimed in, his grin practically splitting his face. “We’ve all noticed you humming random melodies lately. Are those for us, or… someone else?”

The teasing didn’t stop there. As the trial continued, the members took turns “presenting evidence.”

Mingyu dramatically placed a notebook on the table. “Exhibit A: Jihoon’s lyric book. Do we need to open it to find the word ‘Y/N’ written a hundred times?”

Dino jumped in, mimicking an investigator. “Exhibit B: The way Jihoon smiles at his phone during breaks. Suspicious behavior if you ask me.”

Even the usually quiet Wonwoo joined in. “Exhibit C: The recent duet with Y/N. We all heard it. It’s basically a confession set to music.”

By this point, Jihoon’s face was a deep shade of red, though he couldn’t help but chuckle.

During a break in filming, Joshua leaned over to Jihoon. “You know, they’re only teasing because they’re happy for you, right?”

“I know,” Jihoon replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But they’re relentless.”

“Hey, it’s good content,” Joshua said with a wink. “The fans will love it.”

Later in the shoot, the tables turned when it was Jihoon’s chance to act as the judge. He banged the gavel dramatically. “I have an accusation of my own,” he announced, his tone firm but playful.

The members gasped in mock horror.

“I accuse SEVENTEEN of being the nosiest group in the industry,” Jihoon declared, pointing at them one by one. “Always prying, always teasing. How do you plead?”

“Guilty!” Seungkwan shouted, raising his hands in surrender. “But we do it out of love!”

Hoshi stood up, grinning. “Your Honor, I’d like to counter-accuse. Jihoon is guilty of smiling more these days. We all know the reason why.”

The room burst into laughter once again, and Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head, a reluctant smile on his face.

As the shoot wrapped up, the director praised the group for their energy and humor. The episode, once edited, was full of golden moments that had fans laughing and cooing over SEVENTEEN’s antics.

And while Jihoon might have been the butt of the jokes, the camaraderie and genuine affection from his members shone through.

In the comments section of the uploaded episode, fans were quick to notice the playful dynamic:

“SEVENTEEN teasing Jihoon about Y/N is peak family energy!”

“Jihoon trying to act annoyed but secretly loving it is so cute.”

“The way they all support him in their own chaotic way makes me emotional.”

That evening, as Jihoon returned to his studio, his phone buzzed with a message from Y/N:

Y/N: Saw the episode preview. They’re so obvious, lol.

Jihoon smiled, typing back:

Jihoon: They’re impossible. But at least they’re on our side.

Y/N: Always. And so am I.

As he leaned back in his chair, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel grateful—not just for Y/N, but for the family he’d found in SEVENTEEN.

Even if they never let him live it down.

[mya-valentine]

The One That Got Away (Almost)

Synopsis: Gojo Satoru, used to being admired by everyone, becomes obsessed with you, the one person immune to his charm. His efforts to win your attention grow genuine, and he unexpectedly falls for you, realizing that sincerity, not power, wins your heart.

The first time Gojo Satoru met you, he was convinced it was a fluke.

You were the new hire at Jujutsu High, assigned to assist with logistics and administration. It wasn’t a flashy role, but one that required intelligence, patience, and an unshakable demeanor—qualities you embodied effortlessly. When you were introduced to the faculty, Gojo, being Gojo, strolled into the room with his usual swagger, sunglasses perched on his nose, a mischievous grin already in place.

“Ah, so you’re the infamous newbie. Welcome to the Gojo Satoru Experience! If you’re lucky, I’ll even let you buy me coffee later.”

You didn’t even glance up from your paperwork.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Gojo,” you said, your voice polite but distant. “Please keep your requests professional.”

There wasn’t even a flicker of reaction on your face. No blush, no stammering, no giggle—nothing. You were like a fortress. Gojo blinked, momentarily thrown off. Most people fawned over him, or at least tried to mask their awe. But you? You treated him like he was just… another coworker.

Naturally, this only made him more interested.

Gojo had never been one to back down from a challenge. The more indifferent you seemed, the more he leaned into his antics. He began showing up in your office unannounced, leaning casually against your desk with his long, lanky frame.

“[Name], I was thinking we should grab lunch. You know, team bonding and all that. My treat!”

“No, thank you. I already brought lunch.”

Undeterred, he’d try again the next day.

“[Name]! I brought you a coffee. Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

“Thanks, but I don’t drink coffee.”

He even started showing off during training sessions, making dramatic displays of his cursed techniques in the courtyard, fully aware you could see from your office window. But every time he glanced toward you, hoping to catch you staring, you were buried in your work, utterly unfazed.

It was infuriating.

“She’s like… a brick wall,” Gojo groaned one evening to Shoko, who was thoroughly amused by his plight.

“Maybe she just doesn’t like arrogant man-children,” Shoko quipped, blowing smoke from her cigarette.

“Not possible. Everyone likes me.”

“Clearly not everyone,” she replied with a smirk.

If subtlety didn’t work, Gojo decided he’d have to crank things up a notch.

He started leaving little gifts on your desk—things he thought you’d appreciate, like rare snacks, handmade trinkets, or even a limited-edition plushie from your favorite series (he’d overheard you mention it to Ijichi). But when you walked into your office and saw the plushie, all you did was sigh and set it aside.

“You’re a hard nut to crack, [Name],” he muttered one day, leaning in dangerously close while you sorted through mission reports.

“Maybe I’m just not interested,” you replied evenly, still not looking up.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Not interested? That was a first.

But instead of deterring him, it only fueled his determination.

Weeks passed, and Gojo’s antics grew more elaborate. He once conjured a barrier of shimmering infinity around your office, claiming it was to “keep you safe,” though everyone knew it was just an excuse to show off. Another time, he brought you a bouquet of cursed energy-infused flowers that glowed faintly in the dark.

You finally snapped.

“Gojo,” you said sharply, your tone slicing through the air.

"Yes, [Name]?" he replied, visibly perking up like an eager puppy.

“Why are you wasting so much time on me? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Your words weren’t harsh, but they were firm. For once, Gojo didn’t have a clever retort. He rubbed the back of his neck, a rare flicker of vulnerability crossing his face.

“I guess… I just like being around you,” he admitted. “Even if you act like I’m invisible.”

Your expression softened slightly, though you didn’t let it show. “You’re not invisible, Gojo. You’re just… not as irresistible as you think you are.”

It was the truth, plain and simple. And yet, hearing it made Gojo’s heart race in a way he hadn’t expected.

Gojo’s initial interest in you had been shallow, born of his own ego and curiosity. But as time went on, he began to notice the little things about you—the way you always stayed late to ensure everyone’s paperwork was in order, the quiet wit hidden in your rare remarks, the subtle kindness in the way you treated the students.

One evening, as he watched you from afar, something clicked.

This wasn’t just a game anymore.

It happened on a rainy night. You were walking home when a sudden downpour caught you off guard. Without an umbrella, you resigned yourself to getting soaked—until a familiar figure appeared beside you, holding one over your head.

“Gojo?” you asked, startled.

“What, you think I’d let you walk home in the rain?” he said, grinning.

For once, he wasn’t teasing or showboating. His tone was genuine, his smile softer than usual.

You hesitated before replying, “Thank you.”

The walk was quiet, but comfortable. For the first time, you saw a side of Gojo that wasn’t all bravado. And for the first time, he saw a flicker of warmth in your eyes.

A few weeks later, Gojo found you alone in the school courtyard, staring up at the sky. He approached cautiously, uncharacteristically nervous.

“[Name],” he began, his voice unsteady.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“I… I think I like you. For real. And not just because you’re the first person to ever ignore me,” he added quickly. “I like you. The way you are. The way you drive me insane but also keep me grounded.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your expression unreadable.

Finally, you sighed. “You’re exhausting, Gojo.”

The Confession

His face fell slightly.

“But…” You smirked, just a little. “I think I like you too. For real.”

For a moment, Gojo just stood there, stunned. Then, his trademark grin returned, brighter than ever.

“I knew it! You do like me!”

You rolled your eyes, but the faint blush on your cheeks didn’t escape his notice.

From that day forward, Gojo’s antics didn’t stop—they just became less about impressing you and more about making you smile. And, to his surprise, he found himself smiling more too.

Because for once, Gojo Satoru—the strongest sorcerer alive—had found someone who made him feel like just Satoru. And he wouldn’t trade that for the world.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[voikiraz]

— In 𐔌 𝓜y ͡꒱ eyes [ l.hs ]

Lovers . Bf!heeseung x fem!reader ⠀𝑤. Petnames, skinship, that's it i think step ? #885 M.recordings [ if this feels rushed or forced pls tell me, again this is part of @cupidhoons series ahhh, I can't believe I actually got both done, but hope you like it >< ]

Syn. Four times heeseung marked your moment as the most special and decided he wants to keep you next to him forever.

This is so silly but i think heeseung would have a photo binder full of polaroids of you, pictures of you guys on dates, his friends and family etc. And he definitely has one in his wallet too ( I'm indulging in lover ; heeseung )

𝑜𝑛𝑒

It was a random date night, but considering that you haven't had some time for yourselves in a while, it hit you differently, and you sure missed him, it was a day that you appreciated more each second the more you think about it.

Knowing that he put so much effort in taking you out every week even though you knew his days were jam packed.

“Thank you hee, I missed going out with you, I was starting to experience withdrawals” you say, twirling around the glass containing your drink while you waited for the food.

“Anything for you baby, plus you deserve it” he said, holding your hand and the night continued on, talking about your weeks and sharing each other's food (or stealing it ).

And by the end of the day, he had to pull out his polaroid camera, he genuinely had it with him all the time.

It was his way of keeping the moment with him for as long as he could.

He asked one of the waiters to take a picture of you two, and you displayed the bouquet of flowers he got you this morning, white and pure like the love he provides you.

𝑡𝑤𝑜

You were very tempted to ignore your friends and go back to sleep, why would they wake you up before sunrise just so you can enjoy the good weather?

But they drove a hard bargain the moment they told you heeseung was coming too, who were you to decline spending time with your boyfriend.

You got up and started getting ready at a speed that made your friends scoff at you at how fast you changed your mind.

As you walked around the empty streets near the river, all you could focus on was him, making you earn a few ( fake ) disappointed sighs from your friends, declaring that they hate couples ( even though they're your biggest supporters ).

The group stopped somewhere to decide where they should have breakfast before moving any further, forgetting the two love birds somewhere on the other side of the road.

And they stood there, sickeningly staring at each other as if they weren't capable of ever looking away.

And when heeseung decided that you look way too pretty to not snap a picture, he pulled out his camera, and so did jake, he thought this was the perfect moment to capture your intense love for each other.

“You're so gorgeous, my love” Jake heard heeseungs voice mumble those few words out and he wished he minded his own business.

“Okay enough please, never do that infront of us again” Jake complained in a whiney voice, brushing you off and walking further.

𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒

On a warm night, when your boyfriend decided that it's the perfect weather for a sleepover and some hot chocolate, the last thing you expected to do is let said boyfriend drag you out in the cold.

“Y/n come on there's shooting stars outside.” He said almost in a whiny voice, wearing his heavy jacket and waiting for you by the door.

You were contemplating, did you really want to get out from under the comfortable blankets to go see shooting stars?

Well, If he was asking so nicely, how cruel would you be if you denied him such a request?

“Fine, give me a second.” You said, running up the stairs to go get your jacket then beelining towards where he stood once more.

He threw a giddy smile on his face and a light kiss on your cheeks, one that appears with a chuu sound paired with it, making you giggle.

He pulled your wrist and in a second you were outside, enjoying the snow and the shooting stars, the cold breeze contrasting the warm toned living room that you were buried in a second before.

“Omg we should take a picture, come here” he pulled you close to him, holding the camera up and hiding his face in the warmth of his jacket.

‘Click’

“It's so pretty,” he said in awe, then looked at you in a swift motion “not as pretty as you though.” He paired his flirty line with a wink.

𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟

It was finally new years night, and you were excitedly waiting for the countdown to start, waiting for heeseung to claim you as his new years kiss.

And he delivered with no hesitation, making it feel like it'll never be the last time.

He gave you the world and more. And you were forever grateful for him, the way you could picture yourself living with him for as long as you'll breathe. Safe like you've never been before.

You love Lee Heeseung, and you dont remember what it feels like not to.

“Pose for the camera love birds,” you heard Giselle call for you two and you happily obliged, taking a few pictures on her phone, ( that she'll probably never send to you ).

But of course, you had to take your special polaroid picture with the person you'll want to engrave in your ribs forever.

© voikiraz 2O24

[extinctlesspains]

hiii i love your writing!! what about terry silver's daughter reader and sensei wolf? 👀 some tension and flirty rivalry could be fun 😳 thank you so much!

𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑖 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓

𝐵𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠

»»——⍟——««

»»——⍟——««

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑖 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒.

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑇𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑖 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓 𝑛𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑦, 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓 𝑠𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑘 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑇𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝐵𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑: 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟! 𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑒𝑘𝑎𝑖 𝑇𝑎𝑖𝑘𝑎𝑖!

■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■

The dojo gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, every surface polished to a pristine shine. It was a reflection of Terry Silver’s vision—order, discipline, perfection. You leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching Sensei Wolf spar with one of the more advanced students.

Wolf’s movements were sharp and calculated, a mixture of power and fluidity that commanded attention. His strikes landed with precision, and his footwork was deliberate. He radiated confidence—too much confidence, if you were being honest.

He caught your gaze mid-spin kick, smirking as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. The audacity of that smirk made your fingers itch to wipe it off his face.

"Enjoying the show, princess?" Wolf asked, stepping back as the student staggered to his feet. He tossed a towel over his shoulder, his tone teasing but laced with challenge.

"Hardly," you replied, pushing off the wall. Your arms remained crossed as you approached him, refusing to let him see how much his presence unsettled you. "I’ve seen better form from a beginner class."

Wolf chuckled, the sound low and irritatingly smooth. "And yet, here you are. Front and center. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you couldn’t get enough of me."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Don’t flatter yourself. Someone has to make sure you don’t embarrass the Iron Dragons legacy with your sloppy technique."

He tilted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Sloppy? That’s rich coming from someone who hasn’t stepped onto the mat all day."

You stepped closer, your chin tilted defiantly. "Maybe because I don’t waste my time showing off for an audience."

His smirk deepened, and he took a deliberate step into your space. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, his presence overwhelming in a way that made your pulse quicken.

"Showing off?" His voice dropped, quiet but sharp as a blade. "If you want a demonstration, all you have to do is ask."

Before you could respond, your father’s voice rang out from his office.

"Wolf! Y/n! Quit standing around and get back to work."

The moment shattered, the tension retreating like a wave. Wolf stepped back, his smirk never wavering as he picked up his water bottle.

"Looks like Daddy’s watching," he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "Wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would we?"

You glared at him, your hands curling into fists. "Careful, Wolf. Keep pushing, and I might decide to show you what sloppy technique really looks like."

"I’d like to see you try," he replied, his tone playful but his eyes dark with challenge.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of training and frustration. Wolf’s voice seemed to follow you everywhere, throwing out comments that were just shy of crossing the line.

By the time the dojo emptied, you were ready to leave. But as you grabbed your bag, Wolf appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame.

"Heading out already?" he asked, his smirk replaced with something softer, more genuine.

"Unless you have another sparring session lined up," you replied, hoisting your bag onto your shoulder.

"Actually, I was thinking..." He scratched the back of his neck, a rare hesitation creeping into his voice. "How about a truce?"

You raised an eyebrow. "A truce?"

"Yeah." He stepped closer, his usual confidence tempered with something more earnest. "No biting remarks, no flirty jabs—just one evening where we don’t drive each other crazy."

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. "And what exactly does this ‘truce’ entail?"

"A date." He met your gaze, his smirk returning, but this time it was softer, less cocky. "Dinner, maybe. No dojo, no Sekai Taikai. Just us."

You studied him for a moment, searching for any hint of a joke. But there was none—just a quiet vulnerability that made your heart skip.

"Alright," you said finally, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But don’t think this means I’m going easy on you in the dojo."

"Wouldn’t dream of it," he replied, his smirk widening into a genuine grin.

As you walked out together, the tension between you shifted, no longer sharp and combative but something warmer, something new. For the first time, you found yourself looking forward to seeing where this rivalry might lead.

[theemporium]

wyatt being so excited for the first day of snow and drags his gf out of their warm bed to play in the snow together

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Babe.”

“Hm?”

“Baby.”

“Mhm?” 

“Oh darling, light of my life, apple of my—”

You let out a small noise of both protest and confusion, pulling the back a little to find your boyfriend sat over the sheets beside you in bed, grinning down at you like he was practically buzzing out of his skin. You squinted a little at the light filling the room, every cell in your body begging for you to roll over and go back to sleep.

“What time is it?” You managed to mutter out, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes to try and rub the sleep away.

“Who cares,” Wyatt waved you off, reaching for your hand to both hold and tug on. “It’s snowing!”

You blinked. “What?”

“It’s snowing,” Wyatt repeated, as excited as a hyperactive golden retriever would be. 

“It’s snowing?” You repeated.

Wyatt nodded.

“Here?” You questioned.

He nodded again.

“In Dallas, Texas?” You asked, wondering if this was some weird prank the boy was trying to pull on you at some ungodly hour of the morning. You vaguely tried to wrack your brain if Wyatt had mentioned a morning practice last night, distantly wondered if this was him trying to get you up early with him.

You were going to kill him if it was.

“Yes!” Wyatt answered gleefully, looking so genuinely excited and—as much as you loved your boyfriend—he was no actor. You doubted he would be able to pull off a performance this well unless it was true.

“How the fuck is it snowing in Texas?” You muttered, a little more awake but nowhere near ready to get out of bed yet.

“Because we are actually in Toronto,” Wyatt beamed, watching the way the realisation dawned on you. It had completely slipped your mind that you had flown out late last night to spend a few days with Wyatt’s family, that the bed you were in was not the one in your shared apartment but in Wyatt’s bedroom back home.

“You’re such a dick,” you groaned as you pressed your face against the pillow, ignoring the way his laugh made your heart jump—in a good way.

“But you’re so cute when you’re confused,” Wyatt cooed, narrowly avoiding the way you swung your hand out in his direction. He instead grabbed it, squeezing it softly before leaning down to peck your cheek. “C’mon, it’s been ages since I’ve had a proper snowy Christmas.”

“Good for you. I’m happy here.”

“Didn’t realise you were scared to lose in a snowball fight.” 

You paused. “You fucking wish.”

Wyatt beamed. “Come outside and prove it, babe.”

“Dick.”

“Love you.”

“Yeah, I guess I love you too.”

.

[phone4pills]

Can I just say a massive thank you to everyone who’s ever read my work. From the random user to my awesome mutuals who keep me motivated to keep writing. Not just by interacting, but by releasing work that inspires me beyond anything else. You guys are my muses !!

@hearts4werka you are a fabulous writer with an even more fabulous heart. I love talking to you and sending gifs and pictures back and forth. I may not know you in real life but you are a genuine friend. This app would not be the same for me without you, you stimulate my brain and hype my ideas so I feel comfortable with what I write.

@chrislilcumslvt you have supported me from day one and there hasn’t been a day that you haven’t liked one of my posts. you have such a fun sense of humour and I will forever stay stalking you because you bring so much to the app as I’m sure many other writers will agree.

@chestersturniolo you were one of my first mutuals and your writing is beyond amazing. the talent you have is double the talent I could ever hope to have and your works are imprinted on my brain. I love you to shreds and I hope you know how much I appreciate you.

@sturnioz you write some of the most luring pieces ont he app and it’s no wonder that so many people interact with you, including me. your account is like the forest where all the Chris girls unite to build shit together and I love you for that. At the beginning of my account I was all over your stuff and for a good reason too so you definitely have impacted how I write and made my works more appealing to the readers on here.

@strnilolover you have no idea how much I look up to you. there is no accomplishment that you don’t deserve fully. you are so gifted and have a special place in my heart. being beautiful, smart and kind at the same time is not very common these days but you are an anomaly because you are truly all that and more.

@nikolastrn you support me so fucking much and have no idea how much it means to me. even if we don’t communicate as much tho is my way of telling you that I acknowledge all that you have done and still do for my account. I love you for that and more, you’re fucking wonderful.

@pr3ttyf4wn you are my bestest yap friend on the app and I love what we’ve built between us. you bring so many unique ideas to the table and your account is so interactive. I feel like I can head over there whenever if I’m bored or need to let something out. Usually I’m not very good in people’s inboxes but it’s so easy to talk to you and I truly appreciate that.

@its4lyric you are the reason that starting out on tumblr wasn’t too difficult for me. you’re constant support and spreading of my content has made me the writer I am today with such an abundant following. my heart goes out to you for building me up to be what I am today. thank you for everything.

@55sturn you work so hard to make things happen and your creative mindset and drive are just two of many reasons why you are so widely respected. my debut on this app was raised up by users like you who hype up smaller writers and make everyone feel valued. you helped me find my place here and feel comfortable with being myself on this app.

@delilahsturniolo you have been here for my entire journey and never one have you looked down on my creations. you are such a deserving account and I can’t make an appreciation post without including you. your lively soul and soft presence are like a gift to our community and I’m so glad that I can call you my mutual.

@muwapsturniolo you have such a flaming passion that makes your work cling onto my soul. whenever I see you on my feed I can they’ll but wonder how different the fandom would be without you. anything you say or do is interesting to me and the little life documents make me feel like a friend of yours who can trust you.

@mattslolita you have made history on this app with your one-in-a-million talent. I couldn’t possible imagine my life without the inspiration that I’ve taken from so much of your stuff. not to mention, I’m sure many who enter your inbox feel like your account is a second home because you are so approachable and attentive. You are a household treasure for loads of us, so thank you.

@bernardsbendystraws you have so much skill that I strive to replicate one day. a lot of this fandom thrives off your creativity and I am an avid enjoyer of your work. you inspire me on the daily to keep pushing until my name is known across the fandom for my hard work. I hope you know that you are appreciated on here.

@fallbhind you and your cut skittle account can come and kiss me because there is nothing on there that I won’t willingly read when I have the time. you are a huge inspiration in my eyes and I really can’t wait to get to know you more and grow out mutuality. shine bright bitch.

@sturniolossss you deserve my utmost gratitude for keeping me posted at all times as well as being the least toxic, least problematic queen on here. something about your account makes me comfortable and it’s a nice getaway when I’m stressed from writing or trying to to come up with new ideas. never lose that little spark of humour you got because it does make my day better for one.

There are SO MANY MORE that I could add to this list and I know for a fact that there will be another part in due time. But thank you so much for these amazing users and now…

A special thanks to YOU the reader of you have ever read anything of mine I appreciate you so so much. If you have done me the honour of making the the step to interact in any way I’m blowing you kisses. 1K followers doesn’t seem like such a far stretch to me anymore because of how much everyone on here has done for me. And if you had any part in that, I love you so much! Thank you so very much from me.

[cherrirui-official]

Friendlocke Violet Gijinkas (Part 7/7)

HOLY SHIT CHAT THE FINAL THREE WE'RE HERE WE'RE IN THE ENDGAME RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!! /POS

All gijinkas linked below (in order of canon catch order) vvv

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six)

!! These will contain personal headcanons I have for the cast, little fun facts, and also spoilers for Friendlocke Violet (for both the edited vids and the streams) !!

@saltydkart-reblogs

Designs under the cut!

COOKIE:

If you aren't born with immortality, then there are ways to take it from those who were. However, you must make sure that you don't mess up when doing so. If you do, then you better PRAY that the other party is merciful to you… whoever Cookie messed with wasn't so merciful.

Cookie has been around for at least a century. Years ago, he was cursed to age rapidly, with the only thing that can temporarily reverse his aging being the blood of other pokemon. When Peppy found him he was only a week old, take that information with what you will.

Cookie's name came from the fact that he loved to bake before he was cursed. Now he's far to busy to pick it up as a hobby again.

Luke was the one that gave Cookie his IPad as a gift, much to the dismay of Sara. He likes to watch anything he can find on there along with Puppie (though they stuff they watch is moderated of course). Cookie has never once let go of that IPad.

Cookie is very quick to learn things, but his attention span can be a little short at times. No shame in that!

Cookie has only ever had two fears: death and fires.

DA CHEFF:

Da Cheff has his very own restaurant! However it is impossible to to go there without flying... huh.

Da Cheff can speak in multiple languages, this is good for customers who don't primarily speak english.

The horns on his head can switch between horns and wings, it depends on the day.

Most of his cooking materials was made by Da Cheff himself! Of course, only the best chef needs the best cooking utensils, and only Da Cheff knows how the best utensils should be made. He won't take anything less.

Has horrible eyesight, he needs to keep his glasses on at all times, otherwise he won't be able to see at all.

Very VERY harsh when it comes to critiquing others' cooking. So harsh to the point that everyone agrees that it's best to just let Da Cheff cook for everyone rather than vice versa. Thankfully Da Cheff is more than happy to cook for his friends!

PUPPIE:

Puppie isn't computer-savy, to say the least, however she is really good when it comes to modern phones. She even has one herself!

Wears her raincoat at all times because she doesn't like getting rainwater all over her.

It is unknown why Puppie was alone when the others found her, especially when she comes from a HUGE family of bellibolts, but she doesn't seem to be too upset over that. Or rather she just doesn't dwell too much on it. Who knows?

Her ears and tail are little lights that can float around. She likes placing her ears over her raincoat hood because "she looks like a frog!"

A fan of TONS of different celebrities, from Ariana Grande to Hatsune Miku. Ask her about any of them and you WILL be forced to listen to her ramble on about said celebrity.

Her favorite move, Zap Cannon, is exactly what it says on the tin. Yup, Puppie owns a cannon (well, its more of a rocket launcher than a cannon... but whatever) and knows how to use it. Thanks Pastey.

AND WITH THAT I'M DONE!! YEAAAAH!! If ur here then thank you so much!! I put a lot of work into these so it makes me very happy to see people enjoy my funny little gijinkas for the funny pokemon rp series lol! It genuinely means a lot to me :]

This isnt the last time im posting abt friendlocke tho haha. Be on ur toes. Be ready. /silly

[st4rlvr]

Felix at Shiz || LFX WICKED AU

The sunlight spilled into the common room at Shiz, casting a warm glow over the polished floors and the elegantly upholstered furniture. You sat by the window, the morning light catching on your quill as it scratched across your Sorcery notes. The day was already perfect, as it always should be—bright, orderly, and completely under your control.

“Good morning, Glinda.”

You glanced up from your notes, your quill pausing midair. Felix stood a few steps away, clutching a small stack of books. His silver hair caught the light in a way that made it gleam, and there was a shy, lopsided smile on his face. He looked like he was trying to act casual, but the faint nervous energy in his posture gave him away.

“Felix,” you said, with a polite but distant smile. He was harmless, after all. “What brings you here so early? Don’t tell me you’ve taken a sudden interest in studying.”

His laugh was soft, self-deprecating. “Caught me. I was just passing through and… well, you looked like you might need some company.”

“Company?” you repeated, arching a brow. “I can assure you, I don’t need company. I’m perfectly fine on my own, thank you very much.”

“Of course you are,” Felix said, quickly sitting in the chair across from you. “But even the most dazzling people could use a little conversation now and then.”

You rolled your eyes, though the corners of your lips twitched in amusement. He wasn’t like the others at Shiz, the ones who swarmed around you, eager to curry favor. Felix was… different. He wasn’t trying too hard. He just sat there, calm and unbothered, like he was genuinely happy just to be near you.

“So,” he said, nodding toward your notes. “Big project? Let me guess—you’re planning to knock the professors off their feet with your brilliance?”

You smirked, leaning back in your chair. “Naturally. Though, to be fair, it doesn’t take much effort.”

He laughed, the sound light and unguarded, and for a moment, you felt caught off guard. You weren’t used to this. Most people fawned over you or tried to impress you. Felix just… sat there, watching you like you were the most interesting thing in the room, but not in a way that felt suffocating.

“You know,” he said after a pause, leaning forward just slightly, “you make it look so easy. Being… well, you. It’s kind of incredible.”

You blinked, your quill still hovering midair. His words weren’t the same kind of flattery you were used to. They weren’t calculated or shallow. They felt real—almost too real—and you could feel the warmth creeping up your neck.

“Well,” you said, recovering with a practiced air of confidence, “it is a talent. One not everyone can manage, of course.”

“I believe it,” Felix said with a soft grin. He glanced at the books in his hands, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “I should probably let you get back to work. Wouldn’t want to distract you.”

You tilted your head, watching him as he stood. “You’re not as much of a distraction as you think, Felix.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As he turned to leave, something made you call after him. “Felix?”

He stopped and looked back at you, his expression curious and a little hopeful.

“You’re not… completely insufferable,” you said, letting the words hang in the air.

His grin widened, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw a hint of pink on his cheeks. “Thanks, Glinda. I’ll take that as a win.”

You watched him disappear down the hall, your quill forgotten as you stared after him. He wasn’t like Fiyero, with his careless charm and easy confidence. Felix was something else entirely—kind, genuine, and maybe just a little too endearing for his own good. You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips as you turned back to your notes.

[mrsgucci24]

~Home Field Advantage~

Summary: Meeting Joe's family reveals the warmth and love that shaped him, deepening your connection and making you feel truly at home.

Authors note: Idk why the spacing is so weird but I don't feel like fixing it lmaoo This was super fun to write umm I really don't have much to say sooo HAPPY GAME DAY & WHO DEYYY!!!

Warnings:None (I think) Cute as hell😍

“It’s just my parents,” he’d said with that easy smile of his. “They’ll love you.”

But that hadn’t stopped the butterflies from wreaking havoc in your stomach.

When Joe pulled into the gravel driveway of his childhood home, your hands gripped the seatbelt tighter. The house was modest but warm, with a wide front porch and a basketball hoop nailed to the garage. The yard was dusted with the remnants of winter snow, and a yellow lab barked excitedly from behind the fence.

“You ready?” Joe asked, cutting the engine and turning to you.

“No,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “What if they don’t like me?”

Joe chuckled, reaching over to take your hand. His thumb brushed over your knuckles in a gesture that somehow both calmed you and made your heart race. “They’re going to love you. Trust me.”

You exhaled shakily and nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

---

The door swung open before you even reached the porch. Robin Burrow stood in the doorway, a bright smile on her face, and you instantly understood where Joe got his warmth. She pulled Joe into a hug first, then turned her attention to you.

“And you must be the famous girlfriend,” she said, her tone teasing but kind. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Good things, I hope,” you managed, though your voice wavered slightly.

“All good things,” Robin assured you, pulling you into a hug before you had a chance to panic. “Come on in. We’ve been waiting for you.”

As you stepped inside, Jimmy Burrow appeared, offering Joe a firm handshake and a clap on the back. Then his attention shifted to you. He didn’t say much—Joe had warned you his dad was a man of few words—but the smile he gave you was warm and genuine.

“Nice to meet you,” Jimmy said simply, and you could tell he meant it.

The house was cozy, filled with family photos and the faint smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. On the mantle, a framed photo of Joe in his LSU uniform caught your eye, alongside pictures of him as a kid, his siblings, and the family dog.

Robin led you to the kitchen, where she was putting the finishing touches on dinner. Joe’s dad joined her, slicing bread with a precision that made you smile. Joe leaned casually against the counter, clearly at home in the space, and you felt a pang of affection for him—this version of him that was softer, more relaxed.

---

Dinner was a mix of good food and easy conversation. Joe’s mom asked you about everything—your job, your family, how you and Joe had met. His dad chimed in occasionally with a dry remark that made everyone laugh, and Joe seemed content to sit back and let you talk.

When the meal was over, you insisted on helping Robin clear the table. She waved you off at first, but you were persistent, and soon the two of you were alone in the kitchen, stacking plates by the sink.

“You’re really good for him, you know,” Robin said after a moment, glancing at you with a soft smile.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, um… thank you. I hope so.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Joe’s always been so focused, so driven. That’s just who he is. But I can tell you make him happy. It’s good to see him smile like that.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you ducked your head to hide the grin spreading across your face. “He makes me happy too.”

Robin reached over and squeezed your hand. “Good. That’s all I needed to hear.”

---

Later that evening, Joe found you sitting on the back porch, bundled up in one of his old sweatshirts. The stars were bright above, and the air was crisp, but you didn’t mind. It was peaceful here, in a way that felt rare and precious.

“Hey,” Joe said softly, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. He carried a blanket, which he draped over your shoulders before sitting beside you.

“Hey,” you replied, leaning into him.

“How’d I do?” he asked after a moment, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Did they scare you off?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Not even close. Your mom is amazing, and your dad… well, he’s intimidating, but I like him.”

Joe smiled, his gaze softening. “Yeah, they’re pretty great.”

“You’re pretty great,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. But you didn’t regret it. It was the truth.

Joe didn’t say anything right away, but the way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the world—made your heart skip a beat. Then he leaned down and kissed you, slow and sweet, like he had all the time in the world.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured.

“Me too,” you whispered.

And in that moment, with the stars above and Joe beside you, everything felt right.