#this reminds me of an idea I talked about with a friend about a Captive Prince sorta situation

[mostlikelytofangirl]

Oh and can you imagine if the Wen sect ever even manages to reenter the jianghu with some modicum of safety, JGS will be bragging about kicking WRH down some notches and making him into a tolerable person! Meanwhile WRH is trying very hard not to strangle him on the place (because they're unsteady and things will go south if he does), while JGY is standing there with a razor sharp smile very vividly fantasizing about throwing JGS in the Fire Palace and putting all his actions as chief torturer to shame on account of the sheer brutality of what he wants to do to JGS

Duuuuuuudeee, can you imagine the insane power trip JGS would go through???

Like, imagine the Wen survivors escaping the Jin sect and as a way to hide the fact that he kept and tortured them, JGS just pulls an entire "yeah, they were serving sentence for their crimes under my watchful eye, and now they have been humbled! The tyrant Wen Ruohan has been defeated and put in his place by me!"

And no one can do a thing about it bc JGS was the most powerful man after the war, and the Wen's "punishment" and new shameful position is the only thing stopping the likes of NMJ and others from claiming for their blood. So WRH can only watch and seeth, unable to do anything but take it bc you just know JGS is gonna milk that moment for everything it's worth.

At least that's one more reason for JGY to plot his death faster :'D.

[elryuse]

I'm sorry, Can I Be Yours

Winter X Male Reader

Tags : Childhood Friends, Friends To Lovers, Kiss, Teasing, Fluff, Virgin Sex, Creampie, Good Ending?

The School bell blared, jolting me out of my reverie. I scanned the emptying hallway, searching for Winter's familiar pearly blonde hair. My stomach clenched when I spotted her surrounded by her posse, their laughter echoing down the corridor. Winter, the girl who used to chase butterflies with me at recess, now seemed like a distant star, dazzling yet untouchable.

It wasn't always like this. Back in elementary school, Winter, or Minjeong as I called her then, was the new kid, a shy sparrow adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces. I, the self-proclaimed schoolyard ambassador, had swooped in, determined to be her friend. We were an unlikely pair – me, the rambunctious chatterbox, and her, the quiet observer with eyes that held galaxies within them. But somehow, it clicked. We built sandcastles that defied the tide, shared scraped knees and ice cream cones, our laughter echoing through the playground.

High school, however, had cast a long shadow over our friendship. Winter blossomed into an ethereal beauty, her smile lighting up every room she entered. Admirers swarmed around her like bees to a rose, and her schedule became a whirlwind of student council meetings, dance practices, and social gatherings. I, on the other hand, remained comfortably obscure, content with the company of my camera and a well-worn book.

The distance wasn't physical, not yet. We still sat together at lunch, a forced routine amidst the chaos. But the easy conversations, the comfortable silences, those had become a distant memory. Now, an awkward tension hung between us, a chasm filled with unspoken words and longing glances that pierced my heart.

One afternoon, at the usual lunch table, Winter was surrounded by her usual crowd, their voices a flurry of excitement about the upcoming school festival. I stole a glance at her, my heart sinking at the coldness in her eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth that used to reside there.

"Hey, Winter," I began hesitantly, my voice barely a whisper above the din. "They were talking about volunteers for the photography booth at the festival. You know I take a decent picture or two."

A flicker of something, maybe annoyance, crossed her features before she schooled her expression into a polite smile.

"Oh, right," she said, her voice devoid of its usual enthusiasm. "Yeah, maybe you can help out. Hana mentioned you were good with that camera of yours."

The casual dismissal stung. Hana? We hadn't discussed the festival, and the way Winter phrased it made it seem like it was Hana's idea, not mine. I forced a smile, the bitterness clinging to my tongue.

"Sure," I mumbled, pushing my untouched lunch tray away. "Just let me know what needs to be done."

The rest of the lunch break passed in a blur of forced conversation and stolen glances. As the final bell rang, I gathered my things, the weight of our strained friendship heavy on my chest. Winter barely acknowledged me as she swept out of the classroom, leaving me adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Was this the end of our story? The question echoed in the empty classroom, a stark reminder of the distance that had grown between us.

The following week, a new face appeared in our homeroom class. A girl with long, flowing black hair and a face that could launch a thousand ships, but her posture screamed timidity. She shuffled in, her eyes downcast, avoiding eye contact with the sea of curious faces. The usual welcoming chatter died down, replaced by a tense silence.

As the teacher droned on about expectations and school policies, I couldn't help but steal glances at the new girl. Her name was Lee Seo-Ah, according to the attendance sheet. Unlike Winter, who captivated the room with her mere presence, Seo-Ah seemed to shrink into herself, disappearing into the background.

A pang of sympathy stabbed at my heart. I remembered all too well the awkwardness of being the new kid, the crushing loneliness of trying to navigate unfamiliar territory. Winter, once the shy newcomer, had effortlessly blossomed into the center of attention. Seo-Ah, on the other hand, seemed trapped in a shell of her own making.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the class, the usual flurry of introductions and small talk began. But Seo-Ah remained isolated, a solitary island amidst a bustling sea. I couldn't just stand by and watch.

Taking a deep breath, I approached her desk, my heart pounding a nervous rhythm against my ribs. "Hi, I'm Y/n," I said, offering a friendly smile. "Welcome to our school."

Seo-Ah looked up, startled, her eyes wide and filled with a flicker of surprise. For a moment, she didn't speak, then a shy smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"H-hi," she finally mumbled, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm Seo-Ah. It's... nice to meet you."

Her shyness was endearing, a stark contrast to the usual boisterousness of the classroom. "Seems like you're new here," I continued, hoping to ease the tension. "Anything I can help you with?"

Seo-Ah hesitated, then bit her lip. "Well, I'm a bit lost. I don't know where my next class is."

Relief washed over me. "No problem at all. I have the same class next. Let me show you the way."

As we walked down the hallway, Seo-Ah spoke in hushed tones, her words punctuated by long pauses. She told me she was from Busan, a coastal city known for its seafood and beaches. She loved art, particularly painting, but was too shy to join any clubs.

I listened intently, offering words of encouragement and pointing out landmarks along the way. To my surprise, Seo-Ah slowly began to open up, her voice gaining a hint of confidence. By the time we reached her next class, a hesitant smile played on her lips.

"Thanks, Y/n," she said, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"No worries at all," I replied, a genuine warmth spreading through my chest. "Welcome to the group, Seo-Ah."

Perhaps, in helping Seo-Ah find her way, I had also found a way to bridge the growing distance between myself and Winter. After all, kindness, like a pebble tossed into a still pond, could create ripples that reached far and wide.

A couple of weeks flew by in a whirlwind of activity. During lunch breaks, I found myself gravitating towards Seo-Ah, her infectious laugh and bubbly personality a welcome change from the strained atmosphere I shared with Winter. We'd discuss everything under the sun – from her passion for painting to the latest K-pop group she was obsessed with. Slowly, her shyness melted away, replaced by a comfortable openness.

One afternoon, at the usual lunch table, Winter caught me engrossed in a conversation with Seo-Ah. Her expression was unreadable, but a flicker of something, maybe jealousy, crossed her features for a fleeting moment before she masked it with a polite smile.

"Looks like you've made a new friend, Y/n," she said, her voice cool and detached.

"Y-yeah," I replied, trying to keep the awkwardness at bay. "Seo-Ah just transferred from Busan. We get along pretty well."

Winter simply nodded, her gaze lingering on Seo-Ah for a beat too long before she turned away to continue her conversation with Hana. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a stark contrast to the easy banter I shared with Seo-Ah.

During that week, I discovered another one of Seo-Ah's talents. While helping her unpack her art supplies after school, she pulled out a sketchbook filled with breathtaking landscapes and portraits. My jaw dropped in awe.

"Wow, Seo-Ah, these are amazing!" I exclaimed, flipping through the pages. "You're incredibly talented."

Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "Thanks, Y/n. I actually joined the art club this week. They seemed really nice."

A surge of excitement coursed through me. "That's fantastic! Maybe we can even work on some projects together sometime. I'm in the photography club, and we're always looking for new angles and perspectives."

Her eyes lit up. "R-really? That sounds awesome!"

Over the next few days, Seo-Ah and I spent our free time bouncing ideas off each other. We'd discuss light and shadow, composition, and the emotions a photograph or painting could evoke. With her, there was none of the awkward silences or unspoken expectations that had infiltrated my relationship with Winter. It felt… easy, comfortable.

Meanwhile, the distance between Winter and me continued to widen. Our conversations were short and superficial, filled with long pauses and forced smiles. I missed our late-afternoon talks, the way we could just sit in comfortable silence, knowing each other's thoughts without needing to speak them. But Winter was a whirlwind of student council meetings and social gatherings now, leaving me feeling like an outsider peering into a world I no longer belonged to.

One Friday afternoon, while Seo-Ah and I were discussing camera settings in the library, Winter approached our table, her face etched with a forced smile.

"Hey, Y/n," she said, her voice clipped. "Just wanted to let you know there's a student council meeting this evening. You're… welcome to join."

Her words felt like an afterthought, an obligation rather than an invitation. Seo-Ah, sensing the tension, chimed in.

"Oh, a student council meeting? That sounds important. You should definitely go, Y/n."

Winter's smile faltered for a second, then she straightened her shoulders. "Yeah, sure," she said, her gaze flickering to Seo-Ah before darting away. "See you guys later."

As she walked away, a knot of frustration tightened in my stomach. Was I missing something here? Did Winter feel threatened by Seo-Ah's presence? Or was it simply a case of her being too busy with her own things to acknowledge our dwindling friendship?

Stepping into the student council meeting room felt like entering a different world. The air crackled with nervous energy, students flitting around finalizing decorations and posters. Minjeong, usually radiating icy efficiency, seemed to have a vibrant life of her own here. Her voice, sharp and clear as she addressed the room, held an undeniable power.

I found myself an empty chair at the back, feeling strangely out of place amidst all the organized chaos. The topic of the meeting – the upcoming school fireworks festival – was a whirlwind of budgets, logistics, and safety regulations. Hana, Minjeong's ever-reliable vice president, rattled off numbers with laser focus, while Minjeong herself managed the discussion with a firm but encouraging demeanor.

As the meeting progressed, I stole glances at Minjeong. The fierce, focused leader I witnessed was so different from the quiet girl who had been my best friend. A pang of longing crossed my chest for those simpler times. Then, our eyes met.

Caught off guard, Minjeong's gaze flickered for a moment before she looked away, a hint of pink dusting her cheeks. A shy smile tugged at the corner of her lips, a fleeting glimpse of the girl I knew beneath the student council president facade. The warmth of that smile sent a jolt through me. Was there still hope for us?

Suddenly, Hana's voice cut through my contemplation. "So, who's up for grabbing some pizza after this? We've still got hours of work to do before the week's out."

A chorus of groans and cheers filled the room. Minjeong chuckled, a soft sound that seemed foreign on her focused face. "Sounds good, Hana. But make it quick, alright? We don't want to be here all night."

As the meeting wrapped up, the room buzzed with newfound energy. Students piled into a corner, chatting excitedly about pizza toppings and movie plans. I hesitated, unsure of my place in this world.

"Y/n?" Minjeong's voice caught my attention. She stood at the front of the room, her gaze hesitant but inviting. "You coming to pizza night?"

The question hung in the air, a test of the fragile thread that still connected us. My heart pounded in my chest. This could be a step forward, a chance to bridge the gap that had grown between us. Or it could be a painful reminder of how far things had changed.

I looked at Minjeong, her eyes filled with a nervous anticipation that mirrored my own. Taking a deep breath, I offered a smile, the same shy smile we used to share in elementary school.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice a little rough around the edges. "I'd like that."

A genuine smile, bright and unreserved, broke across Minjeong's face. It was a small step, a single word in a long conversation, but for the first time in weeks, a flicker of hope ignited within me. Perhaps, amidst the chaos of student council meetings and new friendships, there was still a place for us, for the bond we once shared.

Stepping into the bustling pizza parlor, I was greeted by the aroma of melted cheese and bubbling tomato sauce. Minjeong's friends, a vibrant bunch I only recognized from school hallways, were already digging into their slices, their laughter a welcome counterpoint to the tense atmosphere of the meeting earlier.

Minjeong, perched at the end of a long table, her cheeks flushed with a hint of nervous excitement, spotted me. A radiant smile broke across her face, chasing away the serious leader persona from before. She patted the seat next to her, a silent invitation.

As I settled in, a chorus of curious glances and playful nudges fell upon me. A girl with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin leaned forward.

"So, Y/n," she began, her voice dripping with friendly interrogation, "how long have you known our Minjeong? Spill the secrets of your epic friendship!"

A wave of heat flooded Minjeong's cheeks, her cheeks turning the color of the pepperoni slices on the table. She mumbled something inaudible under her breath, burying her face in her pizza slice. I chuckled, the sound warming the air.

"Well Actually," I said, taking a bite of my own pizza, "we go way back. All the way back to elementary school."

A collective gasp escaped the group. Stories of elementary school crushes and childhood sweethearts circulated with wide-eyed wonder. Seeing Minjeong squirm under the spotlight only endeared her to me even more.

"She was this shy little thing," I continued, my voice filled with a smile, "always hiding behind her art folders. I just decided she needed a friend and dragged her into all sorts of adventures."

Minjeong peeked at me over her pizza slice, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of shyness and amusement. My heart stuttered in my chest. Even after all this time, her gaze still held the power to send butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

"And did those adventures include falling head over heels for each other?" one of the guys piped up, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The question hung heavy in the air. A long silence stretched, broken only by the clinking of silverware and the murmur of conversation. I met Minjeong's gaze, a silent conversation unfolding between us.

"I…," I hesitated, taking a deep breath. "The truth is, Minjeong has always been special to me. Ever since that first day in elementary school, there was something about her. Her quiet strength, her kindness, her way of seeing the world through those incredible eyes."

Minjeong's entire face turned crimson, her lips forming a silent "wow." The rest of the table, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, remained silent, their eyes shifting between us with anticipation.

"And you, Y/n?" Minjeong finally managed to whisper, her voice barely audible. "Do you still feel the same way?"

"More than you know," I said, my voice sincere. "Seeing you all grown up, this amazing leader everyone admires… it just makes me realize how much I care about you."

The moment stretched, charged with unspoken emotions. Then, with a roar of approval, Minjeong's friends erupted in cheers.

"Oh my god, you guys are perfect for each other!"

"Finally! It was about time someone confessed!"

Minjeong, overwhelmed by the sudden outburst, hid her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with a mixture of shyness and laughter. My own heart pounded with a mixture of hope and disbelief. Could this really be happening?

As the cheers subsided, a shy smile peeked out from behind Minjeong's hands. Looking at me, her eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. Was it fear? Joy? Relief?

"Well, Y/n," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "It seems like you spilled the biggest secret of all."

I grinned, leaning closer. "Only the one I felt was most important."

The rest of the night was a blur of happy chatter, shared stories, and stolen glances. The seeds of doubt I'd harbored for weeks began to fade, replaced by a warm flicker of hope. Perhaps, amidst the changing tides of high school, our childhood connection could blossom into something more. As we walked home under the soft glow of the streetlights, a comfortable silence settled between us, a silence that spoke volumes more than words ever could. Maybe, just maybe, our story wasn't over yet.

As we strolled away from the pizza parlor, the streetlights cast soft yellow pools on the sidewalk. The air was thick with the unspoken words that hung between us. Finally, Minjeong broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper.

"Y/n," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "Do you… hate me?"

The question struck me like a physical blow. Hate her? The girl who had been my closest companion, my confidante? It was a ridiculous notion.

"Why would I hate you?" I asked gently, my voice laced with concern.

"For everything," she mumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. "For how I treated you these past three years. For being so cold and distant."

I stopped walking, turning to face her. Minjeong's face was illuminated by the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Minjeong-Ah, listen to me," I said, cupping her face in my hands. "You were focused on school, student council, all those responsibilities. It's natural. You've become this amazing leader, kind and strong. I could never hate you for that."

She shook her head, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "But you must have felt so alone. Like I replaced you."

"It wasn't like that," I assured her, wiping away the stray tear with my thumb. "It just… it's a shame we drifted apart. I miss the talks we used to have, the silly jokes, the shared dreams."

A sob escaped her lips, and she buried her face in my chest. Tears soaked through my shirt as she held onto me for dear life.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n," she cried, her voice muffled against my chest. "I'm such an idiot. Seo-Ah is great, and I'm happy she has a friend, but… but you're different. You've always been different."

My heart ached for her, for the pain she had unknowingly inflicted. "Seo-Ah's a friend," I said, stroking her hair soothingly. "But you, Minjeong… you're so much more."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine. "More?"

"We grew up together," I continued, my voice soft. "We shared secrets, dreams, a lifetime of memories. Seo-Ah may be a new chapter, but you… you're the whole book."

Tears streamed down her face, each one a silent apology. "I-i messed up," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "The thought of losing you to someone else… it scared me to death. But I was too scared to admit it, too scared to even talk to you."

Understanding dawned on me. Her coldness, her distance, it was all a misguided attempt to protect herself from the possibility of losing our bond. The irony wasn't lost on me – her actions had almost achieved the very outcome she feared.

Enfolding her in a hug once more, I whispered into her hair, "It's okay, Minjeong. We can start over. Together."

Her body trembled against mine, a mixture of relief and hope washing over her. The night was filled with apologies, whispered confessions, and the bittersweet promise of a new beginning. We walked hand in hand, not as childhood friends, but as something more, something that transcended labels. We walked, not just towards her house, but towards a future we would write together, a future where communication replaced silence, and where the warmth of our friendship could finally blossom into something beautiful.

The walk to Minjeong's house felt different under the soft glow of the streetlights. The air, once thick with unspoken words, now crackled with a nervous energy, a budding promise. As we reached her doorstep, the weight of the emotional rollercoaster we'd just been on settled in.

Minjeong, sniffling and wiping away the last of her tears, looked at me with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. "Would you… would you like to stay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Staying the night at her place felt like venturing into uncharted territory. Was it too soon? Yet, the thought of leaving her on such a vulnerable note felt unbearable.

"I… I don't know," I stammered, unsure of the protocol for such a situation.

Tears welled up in her eyes again, threatening to spill over. "Please, Y/n," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

My resolve crumbled. How could I say no to those tear-filled eyes, to the raw vulnerability she was displaying? "Okay," I sighed, offering her a weak smile. "I'll stay."

Relief washed over her face, a radiant smile replacing the tear tracks. She fumbled with her keys, finally unlocking the door and ushering me inside.

The familiar scent of her home, a mixture of lavender and something vaguely sweet, instantly transported me back to our childhood sleepovers. As I entered her bedroom, the floodgates of nostalgia opened.

The walls were adorned with a tapestry of our shared history – a photo of us grinning goofily at a carnival, a drawing we'd made together during a rainy afternoon, a faded ticket stub from that time we snuck into a movie. Every picture, every memento, whispered of a friendship that had weathered storms, unspoken yet understood.

A choked sob escaped Minjeong's lips as she noticed my gaze tracing the memories on the wall. "It's… it's like a museum in here," she sniffled, a shy smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

I walked over to her, my heart overflowing with a cocktail of emotions. "It's beautiful," I whispered, reaching out to touch a photo of us on our first day of elementary school. "A reminder of everything we've been through."

Minjeong's cheeks flushed a rosy pink. As if making a sudden decision, she began to slowly undress, her movements filled with a nervous anticipation.

Shock momentarily paralyzed me. "Minjeong-Ah?" I stammered, unsure of how to interpret her actions.

She looked at me, her eyes shimmering with a newfound courage. "Y/n," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "I know this might seem crazy, but… all this time, all I ever wanted was you."

The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken desires. Before I could respond, she leaned in, hesitantly at first, then with a growing sense of urgency. Her lips met mine in a kiss that was both tentative and filled with a desperate longing.

It was a kiss that tasted of tearful apologies, unspoken confessions, and the bittersweet joy of a rekindled connection. In that kiss, we bridged the gap of lost years, the unspoken words replaced by a silent promise of a future we would write together.

Pulling away, breathless and a little dazed, we stared into each other's eyes. They held a newfound depth, a reflection of the emotions we had shared.

"Minjeong-Ah," I finally managed to breathe, my voice thick with emotion. "I… I thought I'd lost you."

"Me too," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes again, but this time, they were tears of joy. "But we're here now, Y/n. And this time," she continued, a determined glint in her eyes, "I'm not letting go."

Hearing those words, I immediately kissed her again. This time with so much passion and hunger to love her even more. minjeong share to play with my tounge,Something that I didn't know she would ever learned.

"M-minjeong-Ah.. You're so pretty". I blurted out, My words of praise basically flies out on its own. Minjeong blushes, Before planting another kiss to my lips. Her soft and plump lips, a cushion to my own.

"I-i want to try it... I-i want to do it with you Y/n". Minjeong blushes, Her hands touching the entrance of her now wet pussy. I blushed deeply, Not expecting that we'll come this far.

But I now know, that we are meant for each other. We both loved each other. I promised, I would never let her down anymore. I would love her with all of my heart.

"I-i'm putting it in Minjeong-Ah. Tell me if it hurts okay"? I gently caresses her face. As I started to slowly thrust my dick into her pussy, Minjeong immediately moaned, Her body trembling, as her hole started to widen, and not long after that. I have successfully inserted my whole dick deep into her pussy. As her hymen broke, Blood soon come out. I panicked, Asking Minjeong if she's alright.

She seemed to be trembling, and crying. I tried to pull back. But minjeong yelled "Noo.. Don't pull it out... I-i can handle it".

I hesitated, I didn't want this experience to hurt her. I explained it to her, that she doesn't need to force herself, and we can take it slowly. But to my suprise, Minjeong push me back, before straddling me.

"No.. No.. I want this.. I need this... Please don't leave me Y/n... I can handle this.. So please... caressing my face let me pleasure you". I immediately blushed hearing those words coming from her mouth. In the end I nodded, Letting her know I'll do it.

Minjeong started to move her hips slowly, Adjusting to the pain and pleasure that her body is currently having. And after a while, She finally found her pace and started to move faster and faster. We both moaned at how good this feels, And I just can't help but to admire her fit body, and her beautiful pair of tits.

"I-i know it's not the biggest... B-but.. Please love them". Minjeong blushes, as she turns her head around. I giggled before planting a kiss to her tits. Admiring them for how perfect they were. Mineong immediately smiled, Before planting another kiss to my lips.

After a while, I felt like I was near to reach my orgasm. As I saw Minjeong Continue swaying her hips, Something took over me and I gently put Minjeong into a missionary position. Minjeong legs immediately craddled surrounding my body, as her legs tightened. Her hand gripped the back of my body, As I kept on kissing her heck.

"Y/n!!! Y/n.. I'm close.. Fuck.. I'm so close..". Minjeong cried, as The pleasure was too much for the both of us. I told her that I'm also close.

"Shoot it inside me... I-it's okay... I want it..".

"W-whatt! No we can't... It's too dangerous minjeong... I'll shoot it outside".

"Noooo.. Please... I want your cum... Please... ".

As minjeong kept begging, and as I closely reached my limit. I can't help but to shoot my seed deep within her womb. As I did this, Minjeong moaned and tightly held me. Our body trembled in pleasure, and we finally reached our euphoria together.

After panting a while, We both Chukled before kissing each other for the last time, as we finally fell asleep. We held each other close, our bodies radiating a warmth that chased away the chill of the night. The room filled with the sound of our gentle breaths and the soft thudding of our hearts, a symphony of rediscovered love and a promise of a future where childhood friendship could finally blossom into something beautiful and everlasting.

Sunlight streamed through the window, painting golden stripes across Minjeong's face. She stirred, a sleepy smile curving her lips. Glancing beside her, she found me still nestled in the sheets, the events of last night replaying vividly in her mind. A blush crept up her cheeks as she remembered the passionate confessions and rekindled love that had blossomed under her very roof.

"Y/n," she whispered, nudging me gently. "Time to wake up. We don't want to be late for school."

I groaned playfully, pulling the covers over my head for a moment longer. "Five more minutes?" I mumbled, the warmth of the sheets and the memory of Minjeong close beside me making it hard to leave.

She chuckled, a sound like wind chimes dancing in a summer breeze. "Not a chance, sleepyhead. We have a whole day of classes and stolen glances ahead of us."

Her words were a sweet melody to my ears. Sitting up, I stretched, my gaze lingering on her. "Thank you, Minjeong-Ah," I said, my voice husky with sleep and unspoken emotions.

"For what?" she asked, tilting her head.

"For everything," I replied, cupping her face in my hands and leaning in for a soft kiss. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes of the renewed connection we shared.

The morning unfolded in a whirlwind of hurried breakfasts, stolen kisses in between brushing teeth, and nervous excitement as we walked to school together, hand in hand. As we reached our classroom, I was met with a concerned Seo-Ah, her eyes wide with worry.

"Y/n!" she exclaimed, rushing over. "Where have you been? I texted and called you a million times; I was scared something happened!"

My heart twinged with a pang of guilt. Seo-Ah's genuine concern warmed me, and I realized how much I valued our friendship. With a sheepish grin, I turned to Minjeong, taking her hand in mine.

"Seo-Ah," I began, my voice laced with a newfound confidence, "there's something I need to tell you. Minjeong and I… we're a couple now."

Seo-Ah's eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of sadness flitting across her face for a fleeting moment. But then, a genuine smile bloomed on her lips.

"Oh wow," she said, her voice filled with unexpected joy. "Congratulations, you two! I always thought you had a special connection."

Relief flooded me. I was worried how Seo-Ah would react, but her understanding and well-wishes warmed the air.

The rest of the day was a blur of excited whispers from classmates, stolen glances across the classroom, and the thrill of a newfound love. After school, Minjeong and I decided to celebrate. We walked hand-in-hand down a street lined with cherry blossom trees, their delicate pink petals showering us like confetti.

"This feels like a dream," Minjeong whispered, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"A dream I never want to wake up from," I replied, squeezing her hand.

We stopped at a quaint ice cream shop, the aroma of sweet waffle cones wafting through the air. We ordered our favorite flavors, sharing bites and laughing like children. As we savored the cool treat, I realized that sometimes, the most unexpected detours lead us to the sweetest destinations.

Looking into Minjeong's eyes, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within them, I knew that our story was far from over. It was a story of friendship, of rediscovery, and of a love that had weathered the storms of time and finally blossomed into something beautiful. And as we walked into the sunset, hand in hand, with the promise of forever etched in our hearts, I knew this was just the beginning of our happily ever after.

The End

A/n : Hey Guys, Elryuse here. just want to say, This is probably one of my favorite stories/fics that I've ever written so far. The characterization of Winter/Minjeong really fit in this story. But I have to say, Justice for the Seo-Ah man. Initially, In my first draft of the story, Seo-Ah would be a contender for Winter, However while I was writing, I think this is for the best. So I settled for her losing quicker in the story.

And I wanted to apologize to some of you guys, who have requested for a fics, But I'm currently focusing my priority for my ko-fi fans and for people who ordered fics personally. But don't be sad, I would still definitely do some of your requests y'all. Hope you enjoyed this story guys. 🤗

[greengoblinswifey]

Hi

I would love if you can do one reader x Nicholas. Sisters best friend. The readers sister was friends with Nicholas bc she was influencer. Nicholas wanted to ask you out but your sister disapprove,because he was known as player. No smut please and thank you !

warnings— player!nicholas, slight heartbreak, angst, slight fluff.

a/n— no smut so i’m assuming you want angst maybe a bit of fluff, enjoy i hope i met your expectations <3

One afternoon, you went over to your sister’s apartment after she invited you to help her plan an influencer party she was hosting. As you approached her door, you overheard voices coming from inside. You stopped, recognizing that she was talking to Nicholas. They’d been best friends for a long time, especially since she’d started making a name for herself online and he became a famous actor, and they’d been by each other’s side for years as they navigated their journey. Your heart skipped a beat hearing his voice—you’d had a crush on him for months, but you’d tried to keep it under wraps, not wanting to complicate things. But now, it was all too real.

“Look, you can’t date her,” your sister said, her tone low but insistent. “I don’t want you to ask her out, or even think about it.”

You heard a pause, and then his response. “I’d never hurt her. She’s different.” His voice was soft, almost pleading, as if he’d been hoping to get your sister’s blessing.

Your sister sighed, clearly skeptical. “But that’s the problem. You’re all over dating apps lately, and don’t even get me started on what I’ve heard about you and your last girlfriend. People are saying you cheated. My sister deserves someone who’s stable and serious, not, whatever it is you’re doing.” Her tone held a sharp edge.

You lingered outside the door, a mixture of embarrassment and hurt welling up inside. It stung to hear her talk about him like that, but there was part of you that knew she was probably right. Yet there was another part of you that wanted to believe he was telling the truth, that he wouldn’t hurt you, that he really did want to be with you.

Maybe you were naive or just hopeful. Or blinded by the strong feelings you had for Nicholas all these months, especially since his rise to fame, it hurt you to see him out and about with your sister’s influencer friends and other women— his costars.

Eventually, he left, looking defeated, and your sister’s words stayed with you, reminding you of the risks. Still, the lingering desire was there; you couldn’t simply ignore the spark you’d felt for so long. The idea of being with him felt right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to defy your sister’s warning, not openly at least.

The night of the influencer party, you caught sight of him in the crowd, looking as charming as ever. Your stomach twisted when you saw him talking to another girl, who looked just as captivated by him. You watched as they laughed, getting closer, until eventually, he led her away from the crowd and down the hall. You felt a pang of hurt. The crush, the dreams, all of it seemed so foolish now. Your sister had been right; he really was the player she’d warned you about.

Later, when he reappeared, you tried to act unfazed, but he noticed you looking his way. He approached, guilt evident in his expression, and you didn’t hold back. “I saw you with her,” you said, crossing your arms, not even bothering to hide your disappointment.

He paused, seemingly struggling with what to say. “It didn’t mean anything,” he said finally, his voice barely audible. “I was just, trying to get over you. I didn’t know what else to do.”

You felt a surge of frustration and hurt. “Trying to get over me by being with someone else? That doesn’t change anything,” you said, shaking your head. “I wanted to believe you, but my sister was right about you.”

As you walked away, you felt the weight of closure settle in. Maybe things could have been different, but he’d shown you who he was, and you were finally ready to let him go.

The rest of the night, you tried your best to enjoy yourself at the party. You laughed, danced, and chatted with others, determined not to let him ruin your night. Yet, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him standing by himself, drink in hand, looking unusually contemplative. For once, he wasn’t mingling with other girls or putting on a show, instead, he seemed lost in thought, a hint of defeat on his face. Maybe he’d finally realized that this reputation he’d built for himself wasn’t as fulfilling as he’d thought. You could almost feel the shift in him, as though he was reconsidering everything and beginning to question if this player lifestyle was really worth losing someone like you.

At the end of the night, you and your sister were winding down back at her place, getting ready to stay over after the party. While everyone else was settling in, he found a quiet moment to approach you. He looked tired, yet determined, and there was an apology in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, reaching out like he wanted to hug you. “I know I messed up. I want you to know that it wasn’t just, casual for me. I’d never want to hurt you like this.”

You took a step back, crossing your arms. “You made your choice,” you replied, a touch of sadness in your voice. “If you really wanted me, you’d have fought for me, done everything to prove to my sister that you’re serious. You can’t just say sorry now and expect it to change things.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “You’re right. I messed up, and I don’t know if I can fix it, but, I want to try. Maybe not just for you, but for myself, too.”

Without another word, you turned away, retreating to your sister’s room. You crawled into bed beside her, feeling the weight of it all start to lift. She wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “I’m sorry things turned out this way,” she murmured, her voice soft with understanding.

“It’s fine,” you replied, managing a small smile. “It’ll be fine. Maybe he’ll change, maybe he won’t. But I know I deserve better.”

Your sister nodded, squeezing your hand. “I think he can change, but it’s going to take time, a long time,” she said, and you nodded, knowing she was probably right.

The next morning, as everyone was preparing to leave, he found you one last time. This time, there was a sense of quiet resolution in his eyes. He hugged you gently, murmuring, “I’ll walk to the ends of the earth if that’s what it takes. I’ll do whatever I need to, to win her approval and show you I mean it.”

You pulled back, still guarded. “We’ll see,” you replied, giving him a small nod before leaving with your sister.

[caitified]

i fear i desperately need a kate fic where she has a wife and at least one baby

domestic

kate martin x reader

warnings:none

this one is like my favourite request, i’m going to build a whole au around this. here’s some backstory and present time, let me know when and what you want from these two!!!! thanks🩷

kate martin had always been your biggest source of pride, but now, as you watched her on the court playing for the las vegas aces, that pride swelled into something even deeper. sitting courtside with eva, your one-year-old daughter, bundled in your lap, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the life you’d built together. it had been years since you first met kate at iowa—back when you were a college student, focused on building your career, and she was making a name for herself on the basketball team. now, she was 29, a professional athlete, and your wife.

you smiled to yourself as you remembered that first time you saw her play. you had no idea who she was at the time. you’d gone to the game with a few friends, not expecting much, but the moment kate stepped on the court, your attention shifted entirely to her. it wasn’t just her skill that drew you in—it was her presence. the way she carried herself, the passion she played with, her smile when she celebrated with her teammates. you were captivated, though you hadn’t known then just how much she would come to mean to you.

after the game, you’d bumped into her at a party on campus. kate had been shy, almost awkward, and definitely not the loud, confident player you’d seen on the court. you two had exchanged small talk, but there was something there, something that made you want to get to know her more. and you did. from coffee dates to long walks around campus, your friendship grew into something undeniable. by the time she graduated, you were inseparable.

three years ago, kate had proposed to you on a quiet evening during a trip to iowa city. she’d taken you to your favorite spot overlooking the river, the same place you’d had one of your first real conversations about your future together. her proposal had been simple, heartfelt. “i can’t imagine my life without you,” she had said, tears in her eyes. “will you marry me?”

of course, you had said yes. and two years ago, you stood in front of family and friends, exchanging vows that solidified what you both had known for a long time—that you were in this together, forever. soon after came eva, your daughter, the light of both of your lives.

watching kate as a mother had made you fall in love with her all over again. she was patient, attentive, and so incredibly loving. even with her busy schedule in the wnba, kate always made time for eva. you could tell how much she adored her, how she’d drop everything just to spend time with her daughter. and eva, well, she was already a mama’s girl.

today was no different. eva was squirming in your lap, her tiny hands reaching out every time she caught a glimpse of kate on the court. “mama!” she giggled, pointing excitedly as kate dribbled past her opponents. you smiled, brushing a stray curl away from eva’s face.

“yeah, baby, that’s mama,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her head.

eva clapped, imitating the crowd’s excitement whenever kate scored. you couldn’t help but laugh at how much eva mirrored kate’s passion, even at just one year old. it warmed your heart to see how connected they already were.

as the game went on, kate’s energy never wavered. she was in her element—focused, competitive, and unstoppable. the aces were leading, but the game was still tight, and you could see the determination in kate’s eyes every time she sprinted down the court. you’d always admired her dedication to the game, but it was moments like these that reminded you just how incredible she truly was.

near the end of the game, kate glanced your way, her eyes searching for you in the crowd. she found you almost instantly, her gaze softening as soon as she saw you and eva. the connection between the three of you was palpable, even in an arena full of cheering fans. kate’s smile was brief, but it was enough to make your heart flutter. she winked at you before turning back to the game.

“mama’s gonna win this one, isn’t she, eva?” you whispered, bouncing her gently on your knee. eva babbled in response, still mesmerized by the action on the court.

when the final buzzer sounded, signaling a win for the aces, the crowd erupted. you stood up, cheering alongside the fans, holding eva high so she could see. kate was celebrating with her teammates, but her eyes kept darting to where you were standing. she jogged over, still catching her breath, but her smile was wide and contagious.

“there’s my two favorite girls,” she called out, her voice warm despite the noise.

eva squealed in delight as kate scooped her up from your arms. “did you see mama win, baby?” kate asked, pressing kisses to eva’s chubby cheeks. eva giggled, grabbing onto kate’s jersey with her tiny hands.

you couldn’t help but smile, watching them together. kate was everything to you, and seeing her in this role—both as a star on the court and as the mother of your child—filled you with a kind of love that was hard to put into words. “you were amazing out there,” you said softly, reaching out to smooth a hand over her back.

kate leaned in, kissing you gently. “couldn’t have done it without you two,” she murmured against your lips.

you laughed, shaking your head. “i think that was all you.”

kate chuckled, her arm wrapping around your waist as the three of you made your way towards the locker rooms. eva, still clinging to kate, was babbling away, pointing at everything around her with wide, curious eyes. you watched kate’s face soften as she listened to eva’s excited chatter, her hand gently rubbing your back as you walked.

“you know,” kate said softly, glancing down at you, “every time i’m out there, i’m thinking about you and eva. it makes me play harder, knowing you’re both here. it reminds me of why i’m doing this.”

you smiled, leaning into her touch. “and we’ll always be here.”

kate stopped walking, turning to face you fully. “i’m so lucky to have you,” she whispered, her eyes full of love. “you’ve given me everything i could have ever wanted.”

you reached up, cupping her face in your hand. “we’re the lucky ones, kate.”

kate kissed you again, slow and deliberate, before pulling back with a soft smile. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you whispered, your heart full as you stood there with your little family, knowing that this—this life you’d built together—was more than you’d ever dreamed of.

more to come

[godsfavdarling]

It’s all you

my masterlist

+18!!!

pairing: Spencer Reid x male!reader words: 2k summary: You and Spencer just came back from your birthday dinner, and your boyfriend loves to quote poetry to you! warnings: smut, fluff, grinding, no use of y/n (idk what else) a/n: This was a request! I love the idea! This was my first time writing male!reader! I hope it’s kind of good? The poem Spencer recites is “The Hug” by Thom Gunn. I had fun writing this! I hope y'all like it! If anyone cares I promise I will eventually come back to my spencelle fic (maybe once the semester is over at my uni)!!! <3

The evening had settled into a comfortable quiet as you and Spencer lounged on the couch, the soft hum of the city beyond the window a distant murmur. The gentle light of the room cast warm shadows, adding to the intimacy of the moment. 

Spencer sat with his legs tucked neatly under him, a relaxed smile on his face as he looked down at you, your legs draped across his lap. It was just after midnight, and you had both just come back from dinner with friends.

"Tonight was really something," you said, your voice a low murmur. "I think it's been a while since we all let loose like that… Since you let loose like that."

Spencer chuckled, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your calf. "It’s your birthday," he began, his voice soft and contemplative. "I’m happy you're happy."

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his touch. "I’m happy. Very happy."

"Good," Spencer said, then leaned his head back, eyes on the ceiling as he spoke softly. 

“It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined

Half of the night with our old friend

Who'd showed us in the end

To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.

Already I lay snug,

And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden poetry in his words. "Huh?"

Spencer looked at you, his eyes filled with a tender sincerity. "It's a poem. Made me think of this moment right now."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, both from Spencer's words and the way his hand absentmindedly traced circles on your thigh. There was something about Spencer that captivated you. 

Most people wouldn't expect him to quote romantic poems; they saw only the genius profiler, the encyclopedia of facts. But you knew the truth. Beneath his brilliant mind and analytical exterior, Spencer Reid was a romantic through and through.

He was perfect in his own unique way. His tousled hair, always slightly disheveled, and the way his eyes sparkled with excitement whenever he talked about something he loved, made your heart race. 

Spencer had a certain charm, an endearing blend of intellect and innocence. He was often clueless about the effect he had on you, and others, for that matter. His gestures of affection were genuine, uncalculated, stemming from pure love and admiration.

He had never harbored ill intentions; his love was pure and unwavering. He was the type to remember the smallest details about you (whether he wanted to or not he would always remember but still it was sweet).

As you lay there, your legs draped over his lap, you couldn't help but feel incredibly lucky. Spencer's hand continued its gentle patterns on your thigh, his touch a soothing reminder of his presence. He looked at you, eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

"You know," you began, your voice soft, "most people wouldn't consider you a romantic."

Spencer's brows furrowed slightly, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "Really? I never thought about it…”

You smiled, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "That's because you don't see yourself the way I do. You have this incredible way of making everything feel... special. Your love, it's like poetry in motion."

A faint blush crept up Spencer's cheeks, and he ducked his head, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I just... I want you to know how much you mean to me. Sometimes words are all I have."

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "And your words mean the world to me, Spencer. You mean the world to me."

Spencer's eyes softened, his hand still tracing gentle patterns on your thigh. "You mean the worlds to me," he whispered.

You both laughed softly, the warmth of the moment making everything feel even more special.

"Do you remember the rest of that poem?" you asked, a mischievous glint in your eye as you shifted your position, straddling Spencer's lap.

Spencer's smile widened, his hands instinctively moving to your hips. "You know I do," he said, chuckling softly.

Your heart skipped a beat at the way he looked at you, a blend of love and amusement. "Then, tell me. Start over." you urged, leaning in closer until your faces were just inches apart.

Spencer's eyes sparkled with the familiar light of his vast memory, but now there was something more—an awareness of the intimacy of the moment. 

"It was your birthday," he began again, his voice low and velvety.

“We had drunk and dined

Half of the night with our old friend

Who’d showed us in the end

To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.

Already I lay snug,

And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine, both from his words and the way his hands gently squeezed your hips. There was something incredibly hot about the way Spencer quoted poetry, the way the words flowed effortlessly from his lips. He had never thought about it that way, but it drove you wild.

“I dozed, I slept. My sleep broke on a hug,

Suddenly, from behind,

In which the full lengths of our bodies pressed:

Your instep to my heel,

My shoulder-blades against your chest.”

"That's so hot," you murmured, unable to resist pressing your lips to his. The kiss started soft and tender, but quickly deepened as the heat between you grew. Spencer suddenly broke it and continued.

“It was not sex, but I could feel

The whole strength of your body set,

Or braced, to mine,

And locking me to you

As if we were still twenty-two”

You couldn't help but be drawn to the soft, now raspier timbre of Spencer's voice. It was like music to your ears, a melody that stirred something deep within you. With each whispered word, each gentle breath, you felt yourself falling further under his spell.

As Spencer's hand continued its soothing motion on your thigh, you leaned in closer, your lips trailing feather-light kisses along his neck. You could feel the heat rising between you, a slow burn of desire that intensified with each passing moment.

His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as you continued your ministrations. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a fire within you. You moved your hips in time with your kisses, a silent rhythm of passion and longing.

“When our grand passion had not yet

Become familial.

My quick sleep had deleted all

Of intervening time and place.

I only knew

The stay of your secure firm dry embrace.”

Spencer's breath hitched as your lips found that sweet spot just below his ear, and you reveled in the small gasp that escaped his lips. Lost in the moment, you let yourself be consumed by the heady sensation of being so close to him.

You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, matching the rhythm of your own. He broke the kiss just long enough to look into your eyes, his breath coming in soft pants. 

"I never realized poetry could have this effect," he admitted, a hint of wonder in his voice.

You smiled, your hands cupping his face. "It's not just poetry, Spencer. It's you. The way you speak, the way you touch me... It's all you."

Spencer's eyes darkened with desire, and he pulled you into another kiss, more passionate than before. His hands explored your body with a newfound confidence, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through you.

With trembling hands, you began to unbutton Spencer's shirt, your fingers fumbling slightly with each small button. His breath caught in his throat as you peeled away the fabric, revealing the expanse of his chest beneath.

Spencer's touch was gentle yet firm as he helped you remove his shirt, his fingers grazing your skin with an electric intensity that sent shivers down your spine. With each article of clothing shed, the desire between you burned hotter, a relentless flame threatening to consume you both.

When it came time to remove your pants, you reluctantly pulled away from Spencer's embrace, causing him to emit a soft sigh at the loss of contact. You couldn't help but smile at his reaction, the affectionate gesture only fueling your desire further.

Quickly, you shed your own clothes, feeling a rush of exhilaration as you stood before Spencer completely exposed, completely vulnerable. 

But there was no fear in that vulnerability, only a deep sense of trust and intimacy that bound you together. With a shared understanding of each other's desires, you quickly helped Spencer shed his pants, eager to feel his skin against yours once more.

As the last barrier between you fell away, you were left completely exposed, your bodies laid bare before each other. But in that moment, there was no room for self-consciousness or doubt, only the raw, unbridled passion that pulsed between you.

With a hunger that bordered on desperation, you lowered yourself back onto Spencer's lap, his hands finding purchase on your hips as he pulled you closer. 

The heat of his skin against yours sent sparks flying. And as your bodies came together in a tangle of limbs and desire, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming need to be as close to each other as humanly possible.

You started to move your hips, the urgent rhythm of your movements causing your now hard cock to graze against Spencer's. He hissed in response, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through both of you.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice laced with concern as you pressed closer to him.

“Yes, please keep going,” Spencer murmured, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

With a nod, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him tightly against you as you resumed your grinding. His arms enveloped you in a strong embrace, his touch sending waves of heat radiating through your body.

The room seemed to pulse with the rhythm of their desire, the air heavy with the intoxicating scent of your passion. The feel of Spencer's velvet skin against yours sent shivers down your spine, the sensation leaving you breathless and wanting more.

You were so close, the heat of your bodies pressing your cocks against your bellies, the friction sending sparks of pleasure. With each movement, you could hear the wet sounds of your bodies sliding against each other, the slickness of precum adding to the intensity of the moment. 

Beads of sweat formed on your skin, glistening in the dim light of the room as you both worked towards release.

Undeterred, you continued to grind against him, the need for release driving you forward. Spencer's gasps and moans filled the room, mingling with your own as you moved together in a frantic rhythm. Your hands roamed over each other's bodies, grasping and pulling, desperate for more of each other.

With each passing moment, the air filled with the scent of sex and sweat, the heady aroma only adding to the overwhelming desire. His hair became matted and messy, sticking to his skin as he lost himself in the heat of the moment.

And then, in a moment of pure ecstasy, you both tasted sweet release, your bodies tensing as you came together in a symphony of bliss. Waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and spent, your bodies still pressed together in a tender embrace.

As you caught your breath, the room seemed to spin around you, the world reduced to nothing but the two of you lost in the aftermath. 

There was nothing else in the world but the two of you, locked in a dance of desire and devotion. And as you pressed your lips to his, the world fell away, leaving only the intoxicating warmth of him.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 30: scary movies

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

The translations of the French sentences are at the end and I give special thanks to @cumulo-stratus for helping me check that they were fine. I hope you like it!

“We're here,” Spencer announced, although that was obvious, when he parked the convertible car that Rossi had very kindly offered to lend to you.

Now that Halloween was so close, the doctor had invited the entire team to the drive-in theater for the broadcast in its original language of Eyes Without a Face, a 1960 French film, but everyone had found an excuse not to attend. Most of them refused due to their ignorance of the language and Emily, who was the only one who spoke it as fluently as Spencer, already had plans that night.

“I can go with you” you had said kindly. In other circumstances you might not have accepted, but now it made you feel guilty leaving your friend alone. In addition, the plans with him were always calm and, to a certain extent, educational "But I warn you that all I know how to say in French is Bonjour”

Your friend was happy with your response and he asked you not to worry, telling you that all you had to do was take it to him so he could translate the words for you. So Rossi told you that he would collaborate on one of his cars and Spencer almost died when he saw it, not because he was a big fan but because he was worried about how much money he would have to pay if he made the slightest scratch on it.

“There are more people than I imagined,” you murmured, nodding toward the rest of the parking lot. The majority were couples, as expected, and a few older adults.

“It was a very popular story during that time, despite the censorship it involved. We once had a similar case in… Well, I'll remind you when we finish watching it. I don't want to ruin anything for you," he murmured, smiling.

That night he had chosen an outfit that was quite common to see him in at the office: brown cardigan, an argyle vest, formal shirt, and tie. Everything was fine with that, what was really driving you crazy lately was the hair. Spencer styled his hair in a certain way that… you couldn't explain it, he just made you think of Prince Charming in fairy tales.

And the fact that you started to see it that way didn't help a damsel like you at all.

“It's okay if you can't translate the entire film. Just telling me a couple of lines is enough, I will be guided by what I see”

“No, that's not a problem. I can do it"

Of course you knew he could do it, it was Doctor fucking Reid. You were just worried that you would end up more focused on his whispering lips than on the screen in front of you.

Luckily the movie started and you managed to maintain the necessary composure. Luckily your brain was able to pay attention to what you saw, what you heard, and what Spencer was murmuring to you. At first you may have only agreed to accompany him out of kindness, but as the story progressed you realized that it was actually good. Little by little you were remembering a case that, as he had said, you had investigated, but that should probably be a talk for after finishing the movie.

You had to admit that something was captivating about the French language, because even if you didn't understand a thing they said, it was nice to hear it.

Calme-toi, ma chérie.

Faites-lui confiance.

One of the characters murmured and a second later you heard Spencer with the respective translation.

“Calm down, my dear. Trust in him”

"Repeat that"

“Calm down, my dear. Trust in him?”

“No,” you murmured, seeing him frown as if he didn’t understand your request. “Repeat what he said, in French.”

The idea had come from God knows where and you had only mentioned it in the heat of the moment, otherwise you would never have asked him. It was just that the words had sounded so exquisite that you wondered if the soft voice of the man next to you would replicate them in the same way.

Spencer wanted to ask you why you wanted that, but he was afraid of ruining his only chance to impress you with his skills, so he just turned enough so you could see him better and mentally visualize the words he needed.

When he leaned a little towards you to have more privacy you felt his breath hit your neck and adding to the soft aroma of his cologne that reached your nose you felt slightly dizzy.

If a single action had been enough to make your entire body shake, it probably would have been hearing Spencer Reid whispering French in your ear.

“Calme-toi, ma chérie. Faites-lui confiance”

“Once again,” you laughed, thankful that the low lighting didn’t allow you to see a blush on your cheeks.

"Why?" he said amused, thinking that perhaps it was prudent to inquire about your request.

“I don't know, when you talk it you sound so…” so sexy “nice. Like feeling velvet between your fingers” 

Spencer was definitely flattered by you, you could tell by the way he chuckled and his body flinched slightly.

“I don't sound that good because I haven't practiced French for a long time, but my mom wants to go to Paris one day so if we go together, I'll be able to do it. I learned it a few years ago, it is a somewhat difficult language”

“Can you say anything else?” you asked excitedly, as you scooted a little further against him to the point where your knee brushed his and your faces were just a short distance away “I mean, of course you can, but could you do it?”

“Huh, what do you want me to tell you?”

“Whatever,” you smiled sweetly. You weren't even paying attention to the movie anymore, which was playing in the background, but you only had eyes for him and his pretty face.

Spencer's face. Your co-worker. 

Despite the inappropriate course that your thoughts had taken, you kept watching him while he thought for a few seconds what he was going to say to satisfy your curiosity. A mischievous smile crossed his face as he tilted his head slightly and you swore it was almost as if he wanted to maneuver his lips to yours.

“Je pense que tu es vraiment belle”

The phrase was just a caress, a feather sliding across your ears that managed to stop your breathing and accelerate your heart rate. Maybe French was called the language of love for a reason.

"What does it mean?" you asked in barely a whisper.

But Spencer didn't respond, he just stared at you and for a second you thought his attention had been diverted to your parted lips.

“Keep watching the movie or you'll miss the best part.”

“Spencer, what does it mean?”

“There he is saying that she can be admitted tomorrow morning.”

“Spencer,” you said sternly. Even with the tone of your voice, he did not look to your side, pretending to be extremely interested in the movie playing, “What did you tell me?” 

“You only wanted to hear me speak in French, you never asked for a translation”

“Reid!” You complained, extending your hand to his arm to get his attention and force him to look at you. “I swear if you offended me…”

“Je ne t'offenserais jamais”

“Stop it,” you threatened him, pointing a finger at him and frowning.

“Si je pouvais, j'effacerais ce visage en colère avec un baiser”

You responded to that with an exasperated sigh and suddenly a scream that you didn't expect on the screen startled you greatly, causing you to instinctively jump into his arms.

It was an absolute, cheap cliché, but that didn't make it any less romantic.

"You see? Pay attention” was all he said, with a tone that showed how much fun he seemed to be having.

You readjusted yourself in your seat without saying anything and obeyed his words, looking at the strange black-and-white scene. Out of the corner of your eye you watched Spencer lick his lips before he started shouting explanations about the story again which you listened to carefully, trying not to think too much about what the two sentences he had told you meant but which would keep you curious for the rest of the night.

Suddenly you felt him stir next to you and raise both arms, as if he wanted to stretch his back, while a yawn left his lips. What really caught your attention was feeling that one of his limbs, the one that was close to you, when getting off was placed on the edge of the seat behind your back and not on his lap as it should be.

“Tell me you didn’t do that.”

"Do what?" he asked, but from the stutter in his voice you knew he knew well what you meant.

“That's the most common tactic on earth,” you muttered between laughs. Spencer lowered his head as if he were embarrassed and ready to take his arm away from you, but you raised your hand until you took his and slid a little so that you were leaning against his body. “But I'll let it go just because you're cute.”

Cute. The word resonated in Spencer's mind and warmed his cheeks, while he felt how you settled your head better on his chest and began to caress the back of his hand with your thumb. You were so soft and warm he felt like he was going to die. 

“Where is my star translator?” he heard you say and that was enough to snap him out of his trance.

You stayed in that position for the rest of the show while he whispered in your ear and you listened to the soft beat of his heart, feeling that, at least for one night, the world belonged only to the two of you.

Translation

"I think you are really beautiful" (Je pense que tu es vraiment belle)

"I would never offend you" (Je ne t'offenserais jamais)

“If I could, I would erase this angry face with a kiss” (Si je pouvais, j'effacerais ce visage en colère avec un baiser)

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey

[starflirts]

dancing in the courthouse with percy jackson with these lyrics from enchanted by taylor BUT WITH A HAPPY ENDING

This is me praying that

This was the very first page

Not where the story line ends

My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again

These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon

I was enchanted to meet you

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

there you go lovely!!

percy jackson x reader

The booming music and the crowd of people were starting to get on your nerves. It’s been a couple of hours since you walked into Rachel’s house, your friend nowhere to be seen. She had greeted you as you stepped foot into the house, only to disappear immediately, drawn by the idea of a game of beer pong. On your own in a room full of people who knew each other, you were starting to feel uneasy. You did find some acquaintances as you walked along but none came up and talked to you.

Checking the time on your phone, you planned to stay another half hour and head home afterwards. Tucking the device in your pocket, you made a beeline to the kitchen, set on getting a drink in your system to calm your nerves. As you elbowed your way through the crowded hall, you were met with a broad chest and as you lifted your head, a pair of green eyes.

“Sorry ! Didn’t see you coming” you apologize, shy smile on your lips.

“It’s fine, I probably shouldn’t be hurrying down the hall like this anyway” he answers.

“Are you trying to escape someone or something ?”

“Eh, sort of…” he rubs his neck. “Rachel is trying to set me up with a friend of hers so I’m trying my best to hide. I don’t have the heart to ruin her cupid ideals.”

“Classic Rachel,” you laugh. “you’re lucky she hasn’t found you yet.”

Upon finding the two of you were friends of Rachel and desperately trying to enjoy this party, you immediately seemed to get along.

“I’m gonna get a drink, wanna come with ?”

“Sure ! I also found a quieter spot than the kitchen if you want”

Drinks in hand, you followed him to the place he mentioned. You gave him your name when he asked for it, softly repeating it to himself. His name lingered on your tongue as well while your eyes scanned his face, admiring his green eyes. As you made small talk, your new acquaintance named Percy intently listened to your voice, gaze roaming over your cheekbones, intently looking at the way your hands moved whenever you talked about something you were really into.

Minutes turned into hours and soon enough, all your attention was directed towards Percy. He had so many funny stories and everything he said was captivating. You talked about everything and nothing, from your respective majors to your favorite season. You both seemed to never run out of things to say, the uneasiness of earlier having slipped away and instead being replaced by a warm feeling of comfort. The cups were almost empty and forgotten somewhere as the night went on.

The buzzing of your phone suddenly broke the serene atmosphere surrounding you and Percy. A text of your roommate was an abrupt reminder of how late it was.

“Oh my, I uh, I probably should get going. I didn’t think I’d stay this late !” you smile, standing up.

“Alright, I’ll see you around then ?” Percy’s thankful for the low lighting in the room as he faces you.

“I hope so !”

That same night, long after he’s gone home, Percy is tossing and turning in his bed, the thought of you running through his mind. He regrets not going after you, not asking for your number.

In the following weeks, his hopes of seeing you again were dwindling. He was leaning on the counter of the campus coffee shop he worked at on Tuesday afternoons, sulking when the bell rang. Standing up straight, he opened his mouth to greet the new customer but his voice was caught in his throat.

“Oh hi Percy!”

[pitinthelanepages]

Interwined Fates

summary: oscar and you, two best friends, stumble upon a future you never anticipated, leading you to discover something. that something involving little ones that eerily resembles the two of you.

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

word count: 5.5k

genre: time travel!, fluff, romance

gif credit to @acrosstobear. do make sure to like, reblog the gif!

As you sat together in Oscar's cozy living room, the two of you found yourselves engrossed in a conversation about the plot of a book.

Oscar rested his head on your lap, finding comfort in your presence as you gently caressed his hair, your fingers gliding through the strands with a soothing touch.

"Can you believe the protagonist fell into the same trap for the third time?" you chuckled, your voice filled with amusement. "I mean, come on, haven't they learned anything from the previous encounters?"

Oscar let out a soft laugh, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I guess they have a knack for making questionable life choices," he replied, his voice carrying a playful tone. "But hey, it wouldn't be much of a story if they suddenly became the poster child for common sense, right?"

You grinned. "True, true. But seriously, who walks alone into a dark, creepy forest at midnight? That's just asking for trouble."

Oscar tilted his head slightly, looking up at you with a glint in his eyes. "Well, maybe they have an adventurous spirit that we can't fully understand," he suggested with a smirk. "Or maybe they just have a severe case of bad decision-making skills."

You swatted his arm, your laughter filling the air. "Oh please, I think they're just in desperate need of a good friend who can talk some sense into them."

He chuckled, his head still resting comfortably on your lap. A soft silence settled between you, the only sound being the gentle rustle of pages as you turned the book over, examining the cover.

Oscar's curious eyes soon landed on the pendant dangling from your neck. It glimmered softly in the warm glow of the lamp, catching his attention. He reached out, his fingertips lightly grazing the pendant, his brow furrowed in curiosity.

"What's this?" Oscar asked, his voice filled with genuine intrigue. "I don't remember seeing this pendant before. Is it new?"

You smiled, the pendant's weight resting comfortably against your chest. "Oh, this?" you replied, gently holding the pendant between your fingers. "No, it's not exactly new. I've had it for a while, but I don't always wear it."

Oscar's eyes widened with curiosity. "Is there a story behind it? You know I'm a sucker for stories," he said, his voice laced with a growing enthusiasm.

You chuckled, feeling a twinge of nostalgia. "Well, I do have a story to tell i guess," you began, your voice taking on a storytelling tone. "This pendant belonged to my grandmother. She was a woman of incredible strength and resilience. Whenever I wear it, I feel a connection to her, as if her spirit is still with me."

Oscar leaned in, captivated by your words. "That's beautiful," he murmured, his gaze fixed on the pendant. "It's amazing how objects can hold so much meaning, isn't it?"

You nodded, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Absolutely. It's like a reminder of the love and wisdom passed down through generations. And you know what? It's said that this pendant brings good luck to its wearer."

Oscar raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Good luck, huh?" he teased. "Well, I hope some of that luck rubs off on me. Lord knows I could use it."

You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes. "Oh, come on, Oscar. You're doing just fine."

He chuckled, leaning his head back onto your lap, his eyes twinkling with fondness. "I suppose you're right," he admitted, his voice filled with warmth. "But still, that pendant is something special. It's like a piece of your history that I never knew about until now."

The air around you grew quiet, a comfortable silence settling between you until Oscar's mischievous nature sparked an idea in his mind, and a playful glint danced in his eyes as he proposed, "What if this pendant is actually magical?"

You chuckled, shaking your head at his ridiculous suggestion. "Seriously, Oscar. Magic? Don't be ridiculous," you replied, a hint of amusement in your voice. "It's just a sentimental piece of jewellery."

He grinned, undeterred by your skepticism. "But think about it. What harm is there in giving it a try? We could have a little fun, see if anything magical happens," Oscar persisted, his voice laced with harmless insistence.

You found yourself unable to resist his contagious enthusiasm, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Alright, alright. Just for the sake of curiosity," you gave in, your voice filled with playful surrender. "What do you have in mind?"

Oscar's eyes gleamed with excitement as he sat up, his gaze fixed on the pendant. "Let's make a wish," he suggested, his voice barely containing his excitement. "Hold the pendant tight and think of something you'd like to happen. Who knows? Maybe the pendant will surprise us."

You couldn't help but giggle at his childlike enthusiasm, a spark of curiosity ignited within you. "Alright, fine," you agreed, humor lacing your voice. "But don't get upset if nothing magical happens."

You clasped the pendant in your palm, your fingers curling around it, and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to get caught up in the whimsical moment. Thoughts flickered through your mind as you pondered what you should wish for. And then, with a flicker of mischief, you settled on your wish, something that seemed too far-fetched to come true.

"Okay, I'm done," you announced, opening your eyes and sharing a playful glance with Oscar. "Now, what about you?"

Oscar's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Well, since we're being ridiculous anyways, let's wish for an extraordinary adventure. Something that takes us to places we've never been before, filled with wonder and excitement."

The air crackled with a sense of possibility as you both sat there, wishing for the improbable, hoping for a hint of magic. Whether it was the pendant or simply the power of imagination, a thrilling energy filled the room, ready to propel you both into the unknown.

A brilliant flash of light erupted behind your closed eyes, momentarily blinding you both. As you cautiously opened your eyes, expecting to see the familiar surroundings of Oscar's living room, you were met with a surprising sight. Instead of the cozy confines of the living room, you found yourselves standing in the midst of a vibrant and bustling children's playground.

Confusion painted your features as you took in the realistic setting around you. The playground was alive with the sounds of laughter and playful chatter, a symphony of youthful energy. A colorful array of swings, slides, and climbing frames adorned the area, each piece of equipment carefully designed for the amusement and delight of children.

Children of various ages scampered about, their excited squeals filling the air. Some played tag, their giggles echoing, while others engaged in imaginative games, their animated expressions painting their faces with joy. Parents sat on benches, watching over their little ones with tender smiles and occasional words of encouragement.

You and Oscar exchanged bewildered glances, attempting to make sense of this inexplicable shift in reality. The atmosphere was anything but fantastical or otherworldly. Instead, it felt grounded and familiar, as if you had been transported to a vivid snapshot of everyday life.

"What just happened?" you questioned, your voice laced with both awe and confusion. "How did we end up here?"

Oscar's brows furrowed, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "I have no idea," he replied, his voice filled with genuine bewilderment. "But one thing's for sure, we're definitely not in my living room anymore."

A mixture of curiosity and trepidation swirled within you both. The unexpected turn of events had brought you to this lively playground, and the possibilities that lay ahead were both intriguing and uncertain.

Before you realize, Oscar dashed off somewhere behind you. Peering out from behind a bush, Oscar's eyes widened in surprise as he noticed a young girl, no older than five, making her way towards you. Her innocent gaze held a hint of familiarity, and it was as if she carried a secret that only you were meant to discover. Oscar urged you to interact with her, his voice barely audible as he whispered from his hiding spot.

Meanwhile, the little girl, with her petite frame and rosy cheeks, exuded an undeniable charm. She wore a simple, pastel-colored dress adorned with tiny floral patterns, the fabric swaying gently with each step. Her dark curls cascaded down in bouncy ringlets, framing her sweet little face. The innocence in her wide, doe-like eyes was paired with a mischievous spark, as if she knew more than she let on.

As she approached you, her tiny hand reaching out, she uttered a single word that pierced the air and left you momentarily stunned. "Mommy."

You gasped, taken aback by her words, and instinctively replied, "You're mistaken, little buddy. I'm not your mommy." But the little girl shook her head, her curls bouncing with the motion. Her voice, sweet and unwavering, insisted, "Yes, you are. You're my mommy."

Confusion swept over you, mingling with a mix of emotions that were difficult to untangle. Before you could gather your thoughts, another woman approached, her features mirroring a sense of familiarity. She wore a warm smile on her face, tinged with a touch of relief.

"Angele's mommy, you're back?" the woman exclaimed, her voice filled with both surprise and joy. You found yourself at a loss for words, your mind struggling to make sense of this inexplicable situation. "I... I guess?" you stammered, your response betraying your confusion.

The woman's eyes lingered on you, taking in your appearance, and she couldn't help but make a remark. "You look different, Angele's mommy," she commented, her tone a mix of astonishment and admiration. "You seem like you aged ten years backward, despite your hectic job."

A jolt of realization coursed through you at her words, an unsettling truth dawning upon you. You couldn't help but ask, your voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and curiosity, "My job...?" The question hung in the air, awaiting the woman's response.

She met your gaze, her eyes filled with understanding. "Yes, aren't you a journalist?" she replied, her voice gentle yet certain. "You travel almost all the time, leaving this sweet angel behind."

Your mind grappled with the realization that you had somehow traveled through time. The innocence and conviction in the little girl's eyes, coupled with the woman's recognition, painted a picture that defied all logic.

"Oh, I see. I should probably take her home," you responded, your voice filled with a mix of uncertainty and responsibility. The woman nodded in agreement. She then posed a question that struck a chord of confusion within you.

"Is he back?" she inquired, her voice carrying a hopeful tone. You hesitated, caught off guard by the mention of a husband whose identity remained a mystery to you. "Is he...? Erm..." you mumbled, your thoughts trailing off into a perplexing haze.

The woman's assumption about the busy nature of your relationship triggered a twinge of annoyance deep within you. How could she make such presumptions without knowing the intricacies of your life? Yet, before you could voice your frustration, you reminded yourself of the bigger puzzle at hand.

"Aww, you both are such a busy couple, barely have time for each other, let alone your child. I'm assuming he is abroad," the woman continued, her words rubbing against your raw nerves. An involuntary twitch of annoyance danced in your eye, momentarily distracting you from the enigma surrounding your husband's whereabouts.

Bidding the woman a hasty farewell, you turned to leave the playground with the child holding your hand, determined to sort out the mess you found yourself in. Oscar, who had been observing the interaction from a distance, swiftly caught up to you, his footsteps echoing your own.

As you walked away, a joyful squeal filled the air, capturing your attention. The little girl had noticed Oscar's presence and excitement erupted within her. "Daddy? You're back?" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with delight and hope.

You paused, a mix of emotions swirling within you. The puzzle pieces were falling into place, revealing a glimpse of the relationships that had been lost in this peculiar time-shift.

Oscar's bewildered gaze met yours, both of you frozen in a state of shock and disbelief. You shared a silent exchange of wide-eyed bewilderment, your jaws hanging open in unison. Oscar mustered a whisper, his voice filled with astonishment, "What...?"

As your attention shifted back to the little girl, you couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance she bore to both you and Oscar. Her plump lips mirrored yours, while her sharp brows and the combination of Oscar's nose and eyes adorned her face. She was a living proof of your shared features.

In a burst of excitement, the little girl leaped towards Oscar, her tiny arms outstretched, gesturing for him to pick her up. Oscar obliged, his heart swelling with warmth as he cradled the child in his arms. The surge of fatherly affection overwhelmed him, mirroring the surge of motherly emotions that welled up within you.

The little girl wrapped her arms around Oscar's neck, her embrace a proof to the depth of their connection. Her voice, filled with longing, reached your ears as she whispered, "Daddy, I missed you so much." Oscar's gaze flickered towards you, a mix of surprise and uncertainty in his eyes, before he composed himself with a fake cough.

"Oh, did you? Have I been really busy?" he inquired, a hint of anticipation in his voice. The little girl nodded emphatically, confirming the void his absence had left in her life. Despite his curiosity about his own occupation and the reasons for his busyness, he refrained from asking the child, instead focusing on their relationship.

"Have I not been giving you enough time? Are you upset with Daddy for that?" he whispered into her ear, his hand gently patting her small back. The little girl's voice, filled with a childlike innocence, responded, "Mommy says you always try your best to make time for us when you can, so it's okay." Oscar's gaze turned to you, his expression unreadable, as if the weight of this unexpected bond settled between you.

Feeling slightly out of place, you cleared your throat to regain their attention. As the little girl shifted her focus towards you, a newfound maternal instinct took hold, guiding your words. "My angel, can you show us where our house is? Do you know where it is?" you cooed, your voice instinctively morphing into that of a mother.

Thankfully, the child nodded, her eyes brimming with confidence. "Yes, it's near," she replied, her small finger pointing in a direction that beckoned you to follow.

As you walked alongside Oscar, the weight of uncertainty still hung in the air, yet the undeniable connection between him, the little girl, and yourself brought a sense of purpose.

When you and Oscar reached the grand house, an air of opulence surrounded its exterior, betraying a life of wealth and prosperity. As your eyes scanned the impressive structure, Oscar couldn't help but whisper, "We must be making banks to own this." Your agreement came in a playful tone, responding with, "We surely have to be..."

Stepping into the house, the sight that greeted you was unexpected. The floor was scattered with small toy cars and an array of other toys, indicating the presence of a child. As you took in the scene, a young woman in her twenties approached you, her eyes filled with relief.

"Mrs. Piastri, you're back. Thank God. Aaron was crying for you," she expressed, her voice tinged with gratitude. Confusion etched itself onto both yours and Oscar's faces until a toddler-like boy, approximately three years old, darted toward you. This time, the child's resemblance to Oscar was striking, a reflection of his features.

For a fleeting moment, the weight of your unexpected journey and the realization that you had time-traveled from a time when your relationship with Oscar was solely platonic faded away. In its place, a touch of annoyance crossed your face, and you turned to Oscar, wearing an expression of playful annoyance.

"You only gave me a year to rest before another one...?" you teased, your tone holding a mix of incredulity and humour. The humour in your remark served as a reminder of the shared history you and Oscar had, even if the circumstances had taken an unforeseen turn.

As Aaron, the young boy who bore an uncanny resemblance to Oscar, stood before you, a genuine smile spread across your face. Crouching down, you extended your arms and scooped up the young boy into a warm embrace. His little frame nestled against your chest, and you marvelled at the familiarity of his features, the reflection of Oscar's unmistakable traits. The connection between you and this child felt surprisingly natural, as if it were meant to be.

As you held him close, you turned your attention to the young woman who had greeted you. With a gentle smile, you deduced that she must be his nanny, entrusted with caring for him during your absence. Gratitude swelled within you for the love and attention she had provided in your stead.

"Thank you for taking care of him," you expressed sincerely, your voice laced with appreciation. "I can see how much he means to you. It's reassuring to know he's been in good hands." The young woman's eyes softened, a mixture of relief and fondness evident in her gaze.

"He's an incredible little boy," she replied warmly. "Full of energy and curiosity. But he's missed having his mommy around. It's good to have you back."

You nodded, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. The pull of this new life, this altered reality, was undeniably strong. The warmth of Aaron's presence and the genuine affection that radiated between you and Oscar tugged at your heartstrings, enticing you to fully immerse yourself in the role of a mother and wife.

As Oscar inquired about his daughter's hunger, the young girl, Angele, nodded eagerly. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, mirroring the excitement that danced within Oscar's own gaze. It was a beautiful sight to witness, the unspoken bond between father and daughter.

Taking a moment to reflect, you realized that Aaron, too, must be in need of food. After all, it was late in the afternoon. Concerned about his well-being, you turned to the young woman who had been caring for him in your absence. With a gentle smile, you inquired, "Has Aaron had his meal?"

The woman nodded, her face glowing with a sense of reassurance. "Yes, he had his food a little while ago. He's been well taken care of." Her words offered solace, allowing you to focus on the immediate task at hand: feeding your daughter.

With a nurturing instinct taking over, you turned your attention to preparing a meal for your daughter. The kitchen became a haven of comforting aromas as you skillfully concocted a dish that would satiate her hunger. The sound of sizzling pans and the tantalizing scent of home-cooked food filled the air.

Oscar, in the meantime, kept her entertained with stories and playful banter, his infectious laughter ringing through the room. It was heartwarming to witness their bond, a testament to the love and care they had shared in your absence.

As the meal came together, you plated the food, arranging it with care and attention. Angele's eyes widened with anticipation as you presented her with the delicious feast. She dug into the food, her little hands grasping the utensils, a joyful messiness enveloping her.

As the evening progressed, the passing of time brought forth a gentle reminder that bedtime was drawing near. The warmth of the day began to mellow into a tranquil evening, and the soft whispers of fatigue whispered through the air.

Angele, her belly satisfied and eyelids growing heavy, leaned against Oscar, her little body nestled comfortably in his embrace. The playful energy that had filled the room gradually waned, replaced by a soothing calmness as the hour for slumber approached. Oscar gently guided his daughter towards the routine of preparing for bed.

Watching the scene unfold, a sense of tranquility washed over you. It was a testament to the bond you shared, a testament to the loving environment you had created. The roles you now found yourself immersed in, that of a mother and a wife, brought a deep sense of fulfillment. The love that radiated within the walls of this home, built on the foundation of shared experiences and cherished moments, resonated within your soul.

As the time came to settle Aaron into his crib, you cradled him in your arms, allowing the serenity of the moment to envelop you both. The rhythmic rise and fall of his tiny chest mirrored the peace that settled within your own being. Gently, you placed him down, his soft breaths filling the room.

With the children tucked in, sleep beckoning them to dreamland, you found yourself pausing at the threshold of the door. In this moment of stillness, with the soft glow of night casting its gentle embrace, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions.

On one hand, the joy and contentment of this newfound life tugged at your heartstrings, whispering of the love and connection that enveloped you. The familiarity and the profound bond you shared with Oscar and the children sparked a profound sense of belonging.

As you stood at the threshold of the children's room, a flicker of movement caught your eye, drawing your attention to the wall adorned with a series of framed photographs. A gasp escaped your lips, like a breath catching in your throat, as your gaze fixated on the images captured within those frames.

Oscar, sensing your surprise, turned to you with concern etched on his face. "What happened?" he inquired, his voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and worry. You couldn't bring yourself to articulate the profound realization that had swept over you, so instead, you simply tilted your head, gesturing for him to direct his gaze towards the wall.

Together, your eyes traced the lines and contours of the photographs, each frame capturing a milestone in Oscar's journey as an accomplished Formula 1 driver. The vibrant colors and frozen moments of triumph adorned the wall, each image depicting him on the podium, a testament to his skill, determination, and hard-earned victories.

As the weight of the revelation settled upon you both, the realization blossomed in your minds: both of you had achieved your dreams. The photographs were a tangible reminder of the aspirations you had pursued and conquered, the paths that had led you to this very moment.

In the midst of this profound realization, Oscar's hand gently landed upon your shoulder, a comforting touch that spoke volumes without the need for words. It was a gesture that conveyed his support, his pride in your own accomplishments as a journalist, and the shared journey that had brought you to this point.

Silent understanding passed between you, a connection forged not only through friendship but also through the intertwining of dreams fulfilled. At that moment, you knew that despite the lingering mysteries of your past, the present held its own magic: a symphony of love, success, and shared aspirations.

"What do we do now?" you turn to ask Oscar, your voice filled with a mixture of uncertainty and determination. Before he can respond, a subtle noise interrupts the air, sending both of you into a state of alertness. It's the sound of the main door being unlocked.

Wide-eyed, you exchange a quick glance with Oscar, silently agreeing on the need to hide yourselves. In unison, you move swiftly, finding refuge in a concealed spot within the living room. Your breaths become shallow, heartbeats pounding in your ears as the door opens with deliberate caution.

There they are: the older versions of yourselves, stepping into the space you once called home. Their features etched with the weight of experiences yet to come, they move with a sense of purpose. You stole a glance at Oscar beside you, and he whispered urgently, "We must go back to our time."

As the future versions of you and Oscar move through the house, checking on the children's bedrooms and eventually reaching their own, you nodded in agreement with Oscar's suggestion. "I know," you replied, your voice carrying a hint of determination. "Let's do what we did before and see if we can return."

Closing your eyes, you clasped the pendant tightly in your hands, willing the familiar flash of light to transport you back to where you belong. But the first attempt proved unsuccessful, followed by the second and third. Frustration and fatigue started to gnaw at your resolve, casting doubt upon the possibility of going back to your own timeline.

Yet, as you closed your eyes for the fourth time, holding the pendant with a renewed sense of hope, something shifted. Behind your closed eyes, a brilliant burst of light illuminates the darkness, engulfing your senses in a swirling vortex. Time and space converge, carrying you and Oscar along a torrent of energy.

When you finally opened your eyes, you found yourselves back in the familiar living room—the same room where you once mocked the plot of a book, where Oscar rested his head upon your lap as you caressed his hair. Relief coursed through your veins, mingling with a lingering curiosity about the future versions of yourselves you encountered.

"Oh my god, I can't believe this," you gasped, your voice trembling with a mix of astonishment and disbelief. The familiar surroundings of the living room suddenly took on a whole new significance, and your heart races with the weight of the realisation.

Oscar, his eyes searching yours, sensed the depth of your emotions. A flicker of concern crossed his face, but there's also a hint of something else: something vulnerable. He took a step closer and responded, "Is marrying me really that unbelievable?" His voice carried a touch of mild offence, but his eyes betrayed the hope that you understood what he was trying to convey.

Caught off guard by his reaction, you paused, your mind racing to make sense of it all. The pieces started to fall into place, and you realised that his response held a deeper meaning. The unspoken tension between you suddenly became palpable, and you found yourself drawn to his gaze, searching for the truth hidden within.

A surge of realisation flooded through you, mingling with your own suppressed feelings. Memories of shared moments, stolen glances, and unspoken desires rush to the forefront of your mind. It's as if you've been dancing around the truth for years, and now, finally, everything became clear.

Breathlessly, you managed to utter, "Oscar, I... I didn't realise." Your voice wavered, filled with a mixture of surprise and realisation, as you confronted the truth that has been waiting to be acknowledged.

Oscar's expression softened, his eyes brimming with vulnerability and affection. He took another step closer, closing the distance between you, and reached out to gently touch your arm. "I've liked you, more than just a friend, for so long," he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. "Seeing you here, in this moment, has only made those feelings stronger. I never thought I'd have the chance to tell you."

Your heart raced, the weight of unspoken emotions now laid bare before you. You found the courage to meet his gaze, and you confessed, "Oscar, I... I've liked you too. More than I've ever admitted. I've been pining over you all these years, and I never thought you felt the same way."

A mixture of relief and joy spread across Oscar's face, mirroring the emotions that surge within you. "We've been fools, hiding our feelings for fear of losing what we had," he confessed, his voice filled with regret. "But now, with this glimpse of our potential future, I can't hold back any longer."

As the weight of your shared emotions filled the room, you found yourself irresistibly drawn to Oscar. Step by step, you closed the distance between you until you were standing mere inches apart. The air crackled with anticipation, the atmosphere thick with the unspoken desires that have lingered for far too long.

Without a word, you reached out and gently cupped Oscar's face in your hands, your fingers trembling with a mix of nerves and excitement. His eyes locked onto yours, their depths reflecting the intensity of the moment. And in that fleeting second, the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of you suspended in time.

A tender smile played at the corners of your lips as you leaned in, closing the final gap between you. Your heart raced with anticipation, every fibre of your being yearning for the connection that has eluded you for so long. And then, finally, your lips met in a soft, passionate kiss.

In that single moment, the world around you ceased to exist. Time stood still as you lost yourselves in the depth of your kiss, the electricity between you intensifying with each passing second.

Wrapped in each other's arms, you experienced an intense sense of belonging. The doubts and uncertainties that once plagued your minds melted away, replaced by a certainty that you've found your soulmate. The taste of this stolen moment lingered on your lips, a promise of a future filled with passion, love, and fulfilled dreams.

When you finally pulled away, a soft glow illuminated both your faces. With a smile that spoke volumes, Oscar brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and whispered, "I've dreamt of this moment for so long, and now it's finally real." His voice was filled with a mixture of tenderness and awe.

With a mischievous glimmer in your eyes, you playfully nudged Oscar's side. "You know what, let's not get all mushy right now. I still want to be able to beat you up and bully you. Best friend privileges are too good to let go."

Oscar grinned, his confusion fading into a knowing smile. "You're right. But how about we add a little extra something to our friendship?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his suggestion. "Oh really? And what might that be?"

He leaned in, his voice laced with playful intent. "How about we stay best friends, but with the added benefits of making out and cuddling whenever we want? Taking it slow, you know?"

"Sounds like a plan. Count me in."

And just like that, the weight of romantic expectations lifted, and you both fell back into the comfort of your deep friendship.

Oscar grinned and nudged you playfully. "Hey, how about we hit the gym together? Future formula 1 champions should stay fit, you know."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, come on. Don't drag me into this, I have studying to do."

Oscar shook his head, a determined smile on his face. "Nuh uh. No more excuses. I'm not taking no for an answer. Time to get those endorphins flowing."

Before you could protest further, Oscar swiftly scooped you up into his arms, effortlessly carrying you. You let out a surprised yelp, your protests drowned out by laughter.

"Oscar, put me down!" you exclaimed, playfully swatting at him.

He chuckled and kept walking towards the gym. "No way. I'm going to the gym, and you're coming with me."

You resigned yourself to the inevitable, knowing there's no escaping Oscar's determination. Besides, a part of you secretly enjoyed his antics. With a playful sigh, you settled into his arms, enjoying the closeness.

Oscar gently set you down, a triumphant grin on his face. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

You playfully pouted and crossed your arms. "Fine, you win. But only this once. Don't expect me to become a gym enthusiast overnight."

Oscar chuckled. "Oh, I won't push you too hard."

As you and Oscar caught your breath after a particularly intense workout, a comfortable silence settled between you. The air was filled with a mix of contentment and unspoken words, and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere.

Oscar's eyes met yours, a glimmer of affection shining through. Without warning, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your lips. The unexpected gesture left you momentarily breathless, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

"Oscar," you whispered, your cheeks tinged red. "What was that for?"

He grinned, his gaze filled with warmth. "Well, we have babies in the future, remember?"

You playfully tugged at a strand of his hair, a familiar spark of mischief in your eyes. "Oh, is that how you're going to convince me? Using our future children against me?"

Oscar laughed, the sound that filled the air around you. "Hey, whatever works, right?"

You let out a mock sigh, shaking your head. "Fine, I guess I'll let you off the hook this time. But don't make a habit out of it."

He chuckled and pulled you into a warm embrace, his arms enveloping you. "No promises, sorry baby."

You scrunched your brows, turning to face him in his embrace. "Didn't we literally promise to take it slow like an hour ago?"

"Oops." There wasn't a hint of guilt in his eyes.

You narrowed your eyes. "Oscar… aren't you having too much fun?"

He shrugged. "Can't blame me."

[babydollmarauders]

SPARKS FLY — ETHAN EDWARDS

ethan edwards x fem!hughes!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which Ethan spends 4th of July at the Hughes lake house and becomes enamored with y/n Hughes

specific lyrics: “you’re the kind of reckless that should send me runnin’ but i kinda know that i won’t get far.” and “you stood there in front of me, just close enough to touch. close enough to hope you couldn’t see what i was thinking of.” and “i see sparks fly whenever you smile.” and “get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down.” and “my mind forgets to remind me, you’re a bad idea.” and “lead me up the staircase, won’t you whisper soft and slow? ‘i’m captivated by you, baby; like a firework show.’”

notes: happy 21st birthday to my bestie, ethan!! i’m so sorry this is so late, i just wrote all of this in like 2 hours and it’s not proofread, so sorry if it sucks.

“Luke! put me down!” my screeches prove futile when my twin looks down at me with a wicked grin.

“down? okay!”

before i can argue that whatever he’s planning isn’t what i meant, i’m dropped from the dock and into the cold lake water. my body stiffens at the feeling and i gasp before my head is submerged under the water.

i kick my legs and rise to the surface, gulping in throat-fulls of air as i smooth my hair out of my face, glaring up at my brothers and their friends as they laugh.

“you’re gonna pay for that.” i tell Luke, holding my hand up in waiting for him to help me back onto the dock. Luke takes a step back, eyeing me with caution. “really? you won’t even help me up?”

“i’ll help you.” i look over just in time to see Ethan step over to the edge. slipping his hand in mine, he pulls me up, helping me onto the wooden dock. i can’t help but let my eyes wander as i rise to my feet, mere inches from him.

god, he looks good shirtless.

shit, y/n, stop thinking like that.

i avert my eyes, rather focusing on the shivering of my body from the summer breeze hitting my wet skin.

“i’m, uh— i’m gonna go see if mom needs any help.” i tell the guys, awkwardly turning away and jogging up the path to the back deck. my father man’s the grill, flipping hamburgers, while my mother sits at the patio table, cutting up a couple watermelons.

“what on earth happened to you?” my dad chuckles, flipping a burger. i scoff, rolling my eyes. “i thought you were just tanning?”

“i was. and then your son happened.” i tell him, flopping down into a chair across from my mother who finally looks up to see me in my dripping state.

“gotta be more specific than that, honey.” she laughs. “we do have three of them.”

“the one i’m cursed to share 50 percent of my genes with.” i huff.

“ahh, yes, that one.” she muses, chopping into the last piece of watermelon before handing me a triangle. “what did he do this time?”

“he dropped me in the lake.” i say through a mouthful of fruit.

“why?” my dad chimes in, finally shutting the grill and taking a seat next to his wife.

“cause he’s insufferable? i don’t know.” i raise an eyebrow. “does he need a reason?”

“guess not.” he shrugs. i take another bite of watermelon, juice dripping down my chin. “but here they all come.”

my dad raises his chin to motion behind me and i turn my head to glance back, making direct eye contact with Ethan, who walks between Luke and Dylan.

my head snaps forward and i wipe the back of my hand across my chin, cleaning the watermelon juice off my skin. looking over at my mother, a smirk and a raised brow adorn her face.

“you sure that’s a good idea, honey?” despite her cocky expression, her tone is soft and gentle, careful not to hurt my feelings with her words.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” i feign obliviousness, grabbing a beach towel off the stack on the table before the boys can take them all. i wrap the University of Michigan towel around my shoulders, using one end to scrunch the water out of my hair.

“i saw that look, and the way you reacted to it.” my mom reaches across the table, laying a gentle hand on my forearm. “just be careful. make sure you know what you’re doing, because if Luke finds out you like one of his friends…”

“yeah, i know.” i sigh. how could i ever forget Luke’s ‘friends are off limits’ rule?

before either of us can speak again, i feel a set of hands come down on my shoulders, making me jolt in surprise.

Jack’s laugh bellows in my ears, my eyes rolling in annoyance as he finds hilarity in my surprise.

i watch as the guys pile onto the porch deck, grabbing towels from the stack and drying off to prepare for dinner. my parents make themselves scarce, heading inside to collect dinner necessities.

i’m pulled out of my thoughts when Ethan drops into the chair across from me, stealing a piece of watermelon from the bowl.

“maize and blue looks good on you.” he whispers, sending a wink in my direction before he gets pulled back into a conversation with Dylan, who takes the spot beside him.

blood rushes to my cheeks as i glance down at the towel draped over my shoulders, the colors in perfect contrast to my skin.

“y/n, honey?” i look up at my mother who stands at the head of the table.

“hmm? yeah?”

“could you run in and grab the pasta salad out of the fridge?” she asks me, sharing a knowing smile.

“coming right up.” i rise from my seat, dropping the towel back onto the chair so that my brothers, or even trevor, don’t take my spot while i’m gone.

i make my way into the house, pushing open the sliding glass door and rounding the corner into the kitchen. opening the refrigerator, i retrieve the large mixing bowl of pasta as well as a bottle of water, before closing the door.

i jump in surprise, as Ethan now stands leaning against the counter behind the refrigerator door, almost dropping the bowl.

“sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you!” he chuckles, a twinge of red coating his cheeks as he rubs at the back of his neck.

the sunset washes in from the window behind him, radiating him with a golden glow and i can’t help but notice the golden flecks in his green eyes. he looks so ethereal that my knees nearly go weak when i see him at full. water drips from his hair, dropping onto his bare chest and down his abs, and i’m only so strong, my eyes follow the droplets on their path, my lips parted as i take a deep inhale.

“uh- no- you’re uh- you’re good.” i tell him, finally pulling my line of sight back up to his face, where a cocky smirk is now placed.

“Luke sent me in to get the fireworks from the closet? but i don’t know what closet they’re in.” he replies. “there’s like 3 of them down here.”

i laugh, using my water bottle to point towards the closet underneath the stairs.

“they’re in there.” i inform him. “are we doing them after dinner?”

“yeah. i think it was like an unspoken vote? dinner, then fireworks, then bonfire.” he says, heading over to the closet and pulling out the large rubbermaid tub of fireworks. “jesus, do we really need all these?”

“it’s fourth of july, go big or go home, right?” i shrug, finally stepping back toward the glass door. “you haven’t experienced beauty until you’ve seen a Hughes fourth of july firework show.”

i turn toward the open glass door, making my way back out, but not before i hear him mutter to himself-

“pretty sure i experienced beauty the moment i saw you.”

my cheeks burn and i wonder if he meant for me to hear that or if he thought i wouldn’t, but regardless, the words make my heart race.

**

i sit back in my chair, watching on as Jack, Luke, and their friends light the fireworks before sprinting away to watch them light up the sky.

Luke, Dylan, and Mark hype Ethan up as he sets fire to the end of the fuse and jumps over the firework; waiting until just before the firework is about to go off in order to come running back up to the grassy patch where everyone sits. i roll my eyes at his recklessness, wondering just how stupid guys can be.

the reckless abandon in which he does things should have me running for the hills. i’ve never before been so enamored with a guy who does stupid things like these. and yet, just by looking at him, i know that i’m too far in now. the crush i’ve held for him for the past two years has blossomed into something more.

he smiles at my twin and his friends as they shake him and shout, hyping his stupid actions, and it’s like sparks fly when i see the beaming look on his face. and coincidentally, in that moment, purple fireworks light up the sky, shooting in every direction.

“i know that look.” i look over at my eldest brother, furrowing my brows at his words.

“what?” he rolls his eyes at my response, giving me a soft smile.

“don’t ‘what?’ me, y/n. i know that look. it’s the same look you used to give Matthew when he would come pick Brady up from the lake house when you were like, eleven.”

i laugh at his comparison. no longer embarrassed of the past crush i held on the older Tkachuk.

“and how would that look?” i ask him.

“like this.” Quinn attempts a faraway look in his eyes, batting his lashes and holding his folded hands up to his cheek.

“you asshole!” i giggle, pushing at his shoulder. “i don’t look like that! i have never done that!”

“okay, maybe not like that.” he relents, chuckling. “but you have that look of admiration and love. and i know what Luke says but… i say go for it.”

“what?” i’m shocked by his words, not used to being told anything other than ‘be careful’ and ‘you know Luke’s rule’.

“if you really think there’s something there? go for it. Luke will get over it. i promise.” he assures me, a soft smile on his face as he reaches out to hold my hand.

“but, just in case, i’d say maybe don’t tell Luke right away.” he tells me, pressing a peck to the back of my hand before he drops it, rising from his seat. “and here comes lover boy now.”

Quinn wiggles his eyebrows as he walks away, one hand gripping his beer as the other waves over to Jack and company.

i look over just in time to see Ethan, coming to a stop in front of me.

“Luke wants his Team USA hoodie.” he tells me. “he says you have it in your room.”

“oh, yeah, i have that. i’ll get it.” i stand from my seat, walking towards the lake house with Ethan following behind me. once we reach the porch deck, he jogs in front of me, opening the sliding door and letting me walk through first before he closes it again and fast walks towards the stairs, leading me up to my room.

he glances behind him every few seconds, as though making sure i’m still behind him, and i blush under his gaze.

finally reaching my bedroom, i open the door, letting him follow me in as i retrieve the USA Hockey hoodie off of my desk chair.

“here you go.” i spin around, ready to hold it out to him, but he’s already right behind me, a mere foot away.

“i lied.” he confesses, pushing the hoodie away.

“oh-”

“i just really wanted to talk to you alone. and i saw you wearing the hoodie yesterday, so i knew you had it and-”

“you don’t have to explain yourself.” i cut off his ramble, butterflies erupting in my stomach at the thought of him wanting to be alone with me.

“i don’t?” he furrows his brows as i throw the no-longer-needed hoodie onto my bed. i shake my head in response.

“no. i wanted to be alone with you too.” i admit, taking a step closer.

“oh, good! so i wasn’t reading you wrong? ‘cause if i was, you can just tell me to fuck off, i promise i won’t be hurt. i mean, okay maybe a little, but-”

“Ethan?” i chime in, stopping him from his nervous ranting.

“yeah?” he takes a step forward, leaving us close enough to touch.

“just kiss me, please?” at my words, he lets out a relieved sigh, nodding his head.

his hands come up to cup my face, pulling my lips to his in a quick but steady motion. our lips connect, his soft and tasting of the watermelon we were all snacking on as the fireworks went off. my hands snake around his neck, raking through the hair at the nape of it. i can feel him shiver as my nails lightly scratch against his scalp, and i smile into the kiss at the effect i’ve proven to have on him.

he pulls away, both of us sucking in a lungful of fresh air before he speaks-

“i’m captivated by you, baby; like a firework show.”

[decorabnuy]

a reblog that I did got me thinking about the Saying Goodbye to my Persona cards and how FUCKING GOOD they are so I obviously want to talk about them because I'm mentally ill

firstly Mafuyu's card, the main attraction and focus of this set, as we can see this is a direct parallel to her first 4 star card Captive Masquerade, where she had the same mask - that is now broken - and she had lots of strings tied to her, that now she's finally cutting them off with scissors.

All of this means that Mafuyu's mom isn't controlling her anymore, she cut the ties, she broke the mask, she's finally free to be who she is and find her lost identity in peace. I also like the detail that she also have strings around her neck, which is a part where she normally wears a choker/necklace, which sometimes can represent that someone is taking control over you, I think it's really nice

now Kanade... AUGHHHHH Kanade the girl you are... anyways. By the name of the gacha "Where is ♡?", this obviously means that Mafuyu is the heart, which is represented by the rest of niigo's cards.

Kanade is gently hugging the heart, protecting it from the surroundings, which alludes to Kanade always making all of her efforts to protect and Save Mafuyu as much as possible, and the heart is glowing, Mafuyu is glowing, and accepts the help coming from her friend dearly... but also, we can see that there's scissors next to her, and yet, she doesn't cut the strings like Mafuyu does, Kanade is trying her best to help but she doesn't cut the problem from its root. Kanade never asks Mafuyu what could help her, she always thinks of ideas of helping her without Mafuyu's imput, and she even talked with Mafumom behind her back, which could've been (and it was) a big problem to her, leading to something bad happening (the whole Saying Goodbye to my Persona event). She tries her best to help, and she does it genuinely, but sometimes, the way she does it can lead to other's downfall

Mafuyu and Ena's cards are my favorite from this set BY FAR. I LOVE Ena's card and what it means for mafuena's relationship.

Ena is harshly pulling the strings away from the heart, she's desperately pulling Mafuyu's mom away from her, that is the way she's trying to solve the problem, by fighting it back, which is what Ena said to Mafuyu at her 3rd focus event (the I Nandesu one). She explains that mfy needs to go against her mom or else nothing will happen, things won't get solved if Mafuyu don't do something about it. I've said it but I also like a lot that Ena looks so desperate in her card, she has a hard core but she deeply cares for Mafuyu and wants her safety, so, like in the card, she would throw herself in the dark just to bring Mafuyu back to the light, and I think that's so, but SO beautiful.... my mafuena bias is showing sorry lmao

And lastly Mizuki! This card is very very beautiful for a 3 star and I love it so much!! it's full of meaning and it's so beautiful. We can see that the strings around them are ALREADY cut off, it reminds me of her card in the Imprisioned Marionette set where she already had scissors and was cutting the strings since then. This means that Mizuki always wanted to help Mafuyu from the start, she understood her problems and already had an idea of what to do, which is why she's holding the heart with so much care, and even gently talking to it, assuring it that things are going to be okay, and what she needs to do is to run away, is to cut the strings that hold her back from doing so

THAT'S IT FOR NOW UHHHH LIVE LAUGH LOVE SAYING GOODBYE TO MY PERSONA I LOVE THIS EVENT AND IT'S CARDS SO SO MUCH TY FOR READING ALL OF THIS <333

[jinkoh]

lip gloss

younghoon x fem!reader

summary: younghoon really likes your lip gloss. what he doesn't like is the silly bet his friends made about you...

tags: strangers to friends to lovers, secret relationship (kinda), fluff, a little jealousy, alternating povs, clothes sharing (v briefly), SFW

wordcount: ~4,8k

a/n: who would have thought i'm coming back after a writer's block with a completely new group--certainly not me lol 🤡 i have accidentally developed an obsession with the lip gloss mv and spent an ungodly amount of time watching it

this is my first time writing for tbz (and i also don't know them that well yet) so pls be kind 👉🏻👈🏻

also this fic is entirely to be blamed on @blizzardfluffykpop bc we came up with the idea together. thanks for brainrotting with me, kate ❤️

Masterlist

Younghoon liked his friends, he really did. It was just that at times he had to remind himself of the fact. Like now, when they were making yet another stupid bet among themselves, fueled as so often by the never ending quarrel between the beach volleyball players and the surfers. Younghoon wasn’t a surfer but neither did he play beach volleyball, except for the rare occasions when they were missing a man, so he usually got out of these antics fine without picking a side. Still, this time the guys were being too much. Younghoon had already turned to Sangyeon in hopes of ending this nonsense, but to his utter disappointment even Sangyeon was in on this, confidently nodding along that his team would win.

It wasn’t that Younghoon didn’t understand the temptation—who wouldn’t want an excuse to talk to you? You’d caught his attention too when he’d come to the beach a few days ago. It was starting to get hot, spring slowly turning into summer, and the owner of the little beach bar had decided it was time to kick off the season. Instead of him though, someone else was manning the bar. You had an arm propped up on the counter and mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Younghoon couldn’t blame you, the bar wasn’t usually busy until later so it wasn’t like you had anything better to do. Without paying it any mind, he jogged down the beach to the volleyball net where he knew to find the others, the girl from the bar quickly forgotten over a very imbalanced game. In fact he didn’t think of you again until he walked back to the bar to get some soda for everyone. There still weren’t any customers around, but instead of doom scrolling you’d taken out some lip gloss, using your phone’s camera as a mirror as you swiftly applied it to your lower lip. He felt he shouldn’t be watching this, but he also couldn’t look away. There was something so captivating about this scene. Just when you were smacking your lips together (twice) you seemed to have noticed his gaze. You looked up with surprise in your eyes before giving him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, didn’t see you there. What can I get you?” The gloss made your lips look shiny. Maybe he had already been a goner then.

So, it really wasn't that he didn't understand. But betting on who’d get your number first seemed a bit much and, frankly, kind of rude too. There was no stopping them though, but perhaps he could at least give you a little warning?

He got up from where everyone was sitting on the sand, just far enough from the shore to not get wet, and jogged back to the wooden path that led further up the beach and to the bar.

“Where are you going?” Eric yelled behind him. “Not getting a head start, are you?”

Younghoon huffed a laugh. “What makes you think I’d join a silly bet like that?”

Eric grinned. “Scared of even trying, huh?”

“Mhm, sure.”

With a shake of his head he walked the last few meters to the bar, where he sat down on one of the stools at the counter. Once more, it was empty despite being late at night, but he supposed not everyone had the freedom to come out here this late on a weekday.

“So,”  you turned to him with a mischievous grin, before he could even say anything. “What kind of bet were you talking about?”

He ran his hands through his hair. “You heard that?”

“Was hard not to.”

“I’m not sure you really want to know.”

“I don’t care either way. But you guys have been stealing glances at the bar this whole time—you better not do anything that will get me in trouble with the boss.”

“They wouldn’t,” Younghoon didn’t hesitate to reply. Sure, they were silly and stupid at times, but they wouldn’t put someone’s job on the line for funsies. “But they also weren’t exactly looking at the bar.”

“They weren’t, huh?” You grinned and Younghoon couldn’t help but notice the shimmer of your lip gloss.

“It’s your number,” he said, tearing his eyes away from your lips. “They want your number.”

You nodded slowly, looking more amused than offended. There was a challenging glint in your eyes. “So, you think getting my number is silly?”

The question caught him off guard so his reply came out a little too slow to be smooth. “No, that’s far from silly. Just betting on it is.”

“Hmm, how do I know you’re not secretly in on it though?”

“Why would I butcher my chances by telling you about the bet then?”

You leaned over the counter a bit, propping up your head with your closed hand. “Maybe this is your strategy to appear upright and honest?”

He stifled a laugh. “Well, I’m honest. I don’t know about the rest.”

 “Fair enough.”

Younghoon didn’t get your number that night, but neither did anyone else and that gave him a little satisfaction. He’d offered to try and talk them out of it again, but you’d declined. “No,” you’d said with a grin. “I wanna see them try. It sounds fun.” 

He thought he possibly liked more about you than just your lip gloss.

The guys went all out. Some attempts didn’t seem too bad while others gave him a strong sense of secondhand embarrassment. But you seemed to be having fun with it, so who was he to intervene? And maybe, just maybe, he liked the way you’d throw him knowing glances from time to time, sharing a secret only for the two of you to know.

Yet, he wondered if maybe one of them would manage to sway your heart—he’d seen Kevin steal you away during your break earlier, to take you to the wooden jump tower near the cliffs. He liked to boast about his diving, and from the way Younghoon could hear you laughing from afar you seemed to be having fun. He stalled for a moment, watching how you were sitting on the pier, your feet dangling in the water. When Kevin pushed himself up with his arms to get onto the pier next to you, you playfully shoved him back, making him go under with a splash. He was laughing when he came back up, and so were you. That was a good thing, right? You were having fun. You already knew the thing with the bet too, so if you liked Kevin in spite of that then who was Younghoon to interfere? Kevin was a good guy anyway, and bet or not he seemed genuinely interested. No, there shouldn’t be any problem.

And yet, Younghoon felt bitter about it, a greedy part of him wishing he could have that laugh all to himself.

“So, can I have your number? In case I need a buddy to go diving with again sometime?” Kevin grinned up at you from the water, brushing back his wet hair. It reminded you of Younghoon, the way he’d run his hand through his hair every few minutes, pushing it out of his forehead just for it to fall right back into place. Maybe you should buy him some bobby pins—probably not. After all, you liked when he did that.

“Is that smile a yes?” Kevin pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Ah, sorry, left my phone at the bar,” you both knew it was just an excuse, but Kevin didn’t seem particularly offended. He swam over to the pier, resting his arms on the wooden board and propping up his chin.

“What has you so happy then?”

“Nothing much. Just a friend.”

“I can be a friend too,” he replied playfully. 

“Sure, friend,” you easily agreed, ignoring the flirty undertone that defeated the meaning of his words. Friends you could do.

To be honest, your expectations for this summer had been low. You didn't know anyone in this small town aside from your uncle and even though you had a good relationship with him, you could picture better ways to spend the hot season than helping out at his bar. To your surprise though, you were slowly starting to enjoy your time here. When you’d first heard of the bet it hadn’t left the best impression, but seeing them try so hard to impress you was a little cute and despite everything they seemed like sweet, genuine guys. And the fact that you knew about the bet made it pretty fun to watch the spectacle, even more so since you had someone to share mischievous smiles about it with. It felt like you were partners in crime, a secret friendship blooming between the two of you that had no real reason to be secret aside from the thrill of it all. 

You weren’t the fondest of riding the bicycle. In fact, back at home you didn’t even own one. You lived in the next bigger town and you got around just fine using public transport. That seemed unthinkable here though, with two buses running a day—one in the morning and one at night. So, if you didn’t want to walk everywhere, you had to make do with your cousin’s old bicycle that he’d used before he’d moved out for college. It was a little rattly but it was holding up pretty well—or at least that had been the case until today. You weren’t sure what exactly happened, but suddenly the counter pressure when pedaling had disappeared, and you’d almost fallen forward over the bicycle’s handlebars. Now you were standing at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, not even half way back to your uncle’s place with no reception and a chain that was just loosely hanging off the gears. It being night didn’t really help you to feel better about it all. While you knew it was probably safer here than in some street downtown that was bustling with drunk people, it still felt scarier, the tall trees along the road looming over you. Begrudgingly you pushed the bicycle forward, the lamp flickering weakly and barely doing anything to lighten up the path ahead.

In the distance, you heard the sound of an engine approaching, and the thought of coming across someone on this deserted street made your stomach churn with dread. A brief glance behind you told you it was a motorcycle, the headlight almost a little blinding in the darkness. Just before it went past you, you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would go by fast. You wanted to let out a relieved breath once it did, but then you heard the motor stopping only a few meters ahead. Your eyes snapped open, panic rushing through your veins as you watched the driver get off. Your grip around the handle bars tightened, making your knuckles turn white. You made a point of not looking at the guy, even when he came closer, but then you heard a familiar voice.

“Y/n? You good?”

You raised your gaze in time to see him take off his helmet. He shook out his black hair before pushing it out of his forehead the way he always did.

“Younghoon.” Relief washed over you.

“Sorry, did I frighten you?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“So, what happened?” He took an examining look at your bicycle. “Chain came off?”

You shrugged helplessly. “Whatever you say.”

He nodded slowly, running his hand through his hair once more. “I can fix that for you.”

“Really?”

“It’s pretty simple. But maybe something for daylight. Let me give you a ride home and we’ll come back for it tomorrow?”

You glanced over to the motorcycle that was waiting a little ahead and then back to Younghoon. Your expression must have been weary because he grinned. “Don’t worry I have a spare helmet. And I’m a safe driver too.”

“I wasn’t doubting you.”

“It’s fine if you were.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Mhm, sure,” he stepped a little closer, putting the helmet on for you and closing the fastener under your chin. Your breath caught when his fingers brushed against your skin, the feeling lingering despite the fleetingness of the touch. “Ready to go?”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, trying to get a grip of yourself. “Just a—let me just—,” instead of finishing your sentence you just gestured towards your bicycle instead. He huffed a laugh and watched as you pushed it further to the side and leaned it against a tree in safe distance to the road. Once you’d locked it, you turned back around to Younghoon who was still looking at you. 

“Ready,” you croaked.

He smiled, and despite the darkness of the night you could see the small crinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. “Good.” 

You walked the few meters to his bike in silence and you thought there was an odd tension there. Or maybe you were just nervous about the ride, you reasoned with yourself. He got out his spare helmet, pushing his hair out of his forehead once more before putting it on. With ease he swung his leg over the machine before patting the leather of the seat behind him. You got on too, certainly looking a lot less dignified than he did and shuffled back as far as you could to bring some distance between the two of you. Before starting the motor, he looked back at you once more. “Hold on tight.” Unsure what exactly to hold onto, you clung to the edges of the seat, your nails digging into the leather.

He didn’t drive too fast, surely out of consideration for you, but you still couldn’t help but feel a little anxious. When he hit a small bump in the road, you let out a shriek, your arms instinctively letting go of the seat to wrap around his waist instead. You held on tight, the distance you’d made sure of before completely forgotten. Once you’d recovered from the brief shock though, you wondered if this was okay or if you’d overstepped. But Younghoon didn’t say anything about it and you didn’t want to let go again, not when you felt so safe with your arms wrapped around him.

The ride was over way too quickly, and you almost wished you’d given him wrong directions when he stopped in front of your uncle’s house. Chances of him catching on would have probably been high though, considering he was from here while you were just here for the summer.

“Are you sure it’s this one?” Younghoon said, after he’d taken off his helmet, looking at the house questioningly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just didn’t know you were related to the owner.”

“He’s my uncle,” you explained matter of factly. “But how do you know he lives here?”

Younghoon chuckled. “This is a pretty small town, you know?”

“Right,” you nodded. You took your helmet off too, awkwardly holding it out for him to take. “So, uh, thanks for the ride.”

He tore his gaze away from the house to meet yours. “Was my pleasure.” There was that sweet smile again, making your heart melt. You smacked your lips together, the way you did when applying lipstick—a nervous habit of yours. His gaze flickered to the movement before wandering back up to your eyes. There was something there. He took a small step towards you, just a few inches but it felt like he was suddenly way up in your personal space. You thought he was going to kiss you, but he didn't move. Instead he just kept looking at you with an unreadable expression.

Unable to hold eye contact, you lowered your head, staring at your feet instead. “I should go inside then.”

“Mhm, you should. I’ll pick you up tomorrow? Is around noon good?”

“Pick me up?”

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Your bicycle, remember?”

“Oh, of course. Noon is good. Should I give you my number? Maybe you can text me fifteen minutes or so before you’ll be here tomorrow?”

“Not worried that this is all just part of my scheme to win the bet?” His voice was quiet and yet there was a cockiness to it that made your heart race.

"Shut up." It was a weak comeback, but it put a grin on Younghoon's face. His gaze dropped to your lips once more before coming back up.

"Make me."

Your eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by the bold implication of his words. You swallowed around the lump in your throat, your whole body was thrumming with nerves. Your gaze flickered to his lips. You inched closer. That's what he'd meant right? You wouldn't be overstepping if you kissed him now, right? You looked up into his eyes, just to be sure that you weren't misunderstanding things. But right when you did, he cupped your jaw with his hand, pulling you in until his lips crashed into yours. 

Kissing him felt so natural, it was as if all your secret smiles and shared grins had naturally led up to this moment. You kissed him until you felt breathless and even then you were reluctant to pull away. When you finally did, he didn't let you go too far, his thumb drawing patterns on your cheek and his eyes taking in every inch of your face.

"I think I should really go now," you eventually broke the silence when you couldn't endure it anymore.

"Okay," he whispered.

"Okay," you repeated. "I'll see you around noon."

Younghoon couldn’t stop himself from smiling on the whole ride home. You'd forgotten to give him your number, but he felt that it didn't really matter anymore. He could just ask you again tomorrow. After all, he'd gotten something way better tonight. He recalled the way your arms had held onto him tightly on the ride and your tousled hair after you’d taken off the helmet. Mostly, he recalled how warm your lips had felt against his. He couldn’t wait to see you again.

The chain was back on in a matter of seconds. Younghoon looked as if he’d done it a zillion times before.

“And you couldn’t have done that last night?” You asked from where you were standing next to him, watching as he wiped his fingers on a cloth. Nothing had happened since he'd picked you up and you'd driven back to your bicycle together. You almost wondered if it was all an odd fever dream and he didn’t actually kiss you.

“I did say it was easy," He admitted simply, "But it’s always better to check everything with proper lighting rather than letting you ride home on a potentially broken bicycle. Can’t risk you getting hurt, can we?" 

It was just common decency but somehow the way he said it, looking up at you with a cheeky grin, made your heart skip a beat and your cheeks flush. You avoided his gaze, your focus falling onto his jaw instead. “You have a little—” you motioned to your own face, trying to mirror where he’d stained his skin with grease just below the jaw line. He tried to wipe it away with the back of his hand, his grin traded for something more innocent. “There?”

The scene captivated you a little too much, thoughts of touching that jaw, of pulling him into a kiss circling your mind. In your daze, it took you a second to snap out of it. “Yeah,” you mumbled, not really paying attention. "There."

Younghoon thoroughly made sure the bicycle was safe to ride and only then started to pack up his tools. You watched as he diligently put them away. 

“How come you know how to do this?” you eventually broke the silence.

“What, putting a chain back on?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm,” he shrugged. “I like fixing things. And it comes in handy too, doesn’t it?” He said the last bit with a smile that you couldn’t help but return.

“Yeah, it does. Thanks again.” 

He got up and dusted off his pants. “It’s nothing. Call me if something happens again.”

“I will.” Your gaze followed him as he walked back to his bike, getting his helmet from where it hung off the handle bars. He didn't put it on just yet, taking a quick glance at the wing mirror first.

“You lied!” He complained in mocked offense, before turning back around to you. He wore a pout, his finger pointing at the grease stain that was still right there below his jaw line.

You giggled. “What can I say, I’m neither upright nor honest.”

Younghoon grinned and walked back over to you, his helmet still in his hand. "Is that so?" He asked as he stepped back into your personal space. You took a tiny step towards him too, closely watching his reaction. That grin was still there. With a racing heart you tugged the cloth out from where he had messily shoved it into his pocket. Then you reached up to his jaw, slowly wiping at the grease stain until it was gone. The whole time, Younghoon was watching you intently, your eyes, your nose your lips—

You lowered your hand when you were done, but he caught your wrist to stop you from going too far.

"Thanks." His voice was barely a whisper. Your eyes flickered to his mouth.

"You're welcome," you replied just as quietly, inching just the tiniest bit closer. You felt his breath on your skin and then his lips on yours, again and again and again.

Things between the two of you felt exciting and new and good—but there was also this looming uncertainty. Younghoon knew what it meant to him. But what about you? What was all this to you? Even though he didn't want to delude himself, he couldn't help hoping that this, that he was special to you. The secret smiles you exchanged started to feel a little different, like there was a little more. And there was: the two of you were texting a lot now that you'd exchanged numbers and you often came down to the beach earlier to hang out with him on the old lighthouse before your shift. You weren’t doing that for the other guys. Your gaze also didn't linger on them the way it did on him, no matter how much they pestered you. And of course you weren't kissing them either. That was, as far as he knew, reserved for him alone. That made it easy to endure when you were laughing and joking around with the guys. Except at times, you'd glance over to him with a cocky grin. Almost as if you wanted to make sure he was watching, as if you wanted to purposely rile him up. It made him want to walk over and kiss you right there in front of them, but you hadn't talked about these things yet and you seemed to enjoy the thrill of hide and seek. So, kissing was only allowed for when you were alone with no one to see.

Consequently he was keeping a low profile, sitting in the sand with some of the others and pretending not to watch from afar how Changmin and Juyeon were leaning on the counter, competing for your attention. Eventually he tore his gaze away to focus on the conversation in front of him instead, which only got interrupted when Jacob remarked that Changmin and Juyeon must have been unsuccessful, as they were coming back down to the beach. You on the other hand were not behind the bar anymore, a small sign indicating that it was closed for now. A feeling of worry started to spread in his guts. Did something happen? Did they make you feel uncomfortable? He knew his friends were good guys and wouldn’t ever intentionally do that, but just because it wasn't their intention didn't mean it couldn’t happen. Maybe it was nothing, but he just needed to make sure you were okay.

Without thinking further he got up from the sand, jogging past Changmin and Juyeon who looked at him in confusion, and up to the bar. You weren't anywhere to be found though, the little door locked and the space behind the counter empty. The other only place he could come up with was the lighthouse, so he made his way there, hurrying up the spiral staircase until he got to you, sitting in the middle of the steps and munching on a sandwich. You looked up at him in surprise as he stood before you, breathing a little heavy, but a smile spreading on his lips. He chuckled. He should have known he was worrying for nothing.

"You're on break?"

"Mhm," you nodded and scooted over a bit, making space for you to sit with him. "What's the hurry for?" 

There was a little sauce on your upper lip. He reached out to wipe it away and you simply let him.

"I don't know, I was wondering if you're fine."

"Why wouldn't I be?'

He shrugged. He didn't know either, after all you'd never been uncomfortable with the boys' advances. Maybe he was the only one who felt that way. 

You leaned in a little closer, bumping your shoulder against his with a cheeky grin. "Or were you maybe jealous?"

With a huffed laugh he met your gaze. "What if I was?"

He thought he saw your cheeks flush when you focused back on your sandwich. "Maybe I'd like that."

It was late, around midnight, and you listened to the sound of the waves as you sat side by side in the sand. The bar was still open, but your uncle had taken on the night shift, giving you the freedom to spend your time out here, away from people. You hear the music and laughter from afar and if you turned around you'd see the colorful string lights too, but you much preferred the view of the ocean in front of you. At least for now.

Younghoon was sitting close to you, his hand just barely touching yours. You wondered if he was cold in his white tee while you were all wrapped up in his cozy hoodie. You inched closer, intertwining your fingers and pulling his hand into your lap. Maybe you could at least keep his arm warm. He turned to look at you with a smile, before running his free hand through his hair.

"The boys would hate this," he said with a chuckle. 

"Would they really?" Your voice sounded more serious than intended. You knew it was just an offhand comment, but it made you wonder if that could be a dealbreaker for him. You knew he treasured his friends.

He considered for a moment. "Only if I'm not serious. They care about you, you know." 

"So, are you? Serious?"

"Yeah." He didn't shy away from your gaze. "I'm serious."

You squeezed his hand in yours and he squeezed right back and even though it was such a small gesture it gave you butterflies. He was serious about you, about this. With flushed cheeks and a smile tugging at your lips, you leaned your head against his shoulder. You sat like that for a while, back to listening to the waves.

"Maybe we should end their bet," you eventually mumbled. "Since they already lost." You could imagine the surprise on their face if you were to tell them.

"Mhm, we should," he rested his head against yours, "but not now. Let's stay here a little longer."

 "Yeah, let's."

"That actually makes so much sense," Eric exclaimed dramatically, after you'd told them a few days later. "How else would you have resisted my charm?" 

Changmin huffed a laugh. "Right, because you're so irresistible."

"Hey–"

"Anyway," Sangyeon interrupted, "that means the bet is off."

Sunwoo looked at him with a raised eyebrow, casually resting his arm on Younghoon's shoulder. "You're only saying that because you've lost. Younghoon is clearly on team beach volleyball. He just joined in on a game the other day."

Eric shook his head and formed an X with his arms. "Nope, no, he clearly said he wasn't joining."

Younghoon rolled his eyes at their antics, wondering if he should say something to make them shut up. But then he met your amused gaze and decided to leave it be. 

"What was the wager anyway?" You asked him quietly. 

Younghoon shrugged as he intertwined his fingers with yours. "I have no idea." 

You giggled. He liked the sound of it and the happy glint in your eyes. He also liked the shimmer of your lip gloss.

no tbz masterlist (edit: nvmnd here it is) but feel free to check out my other works if you liked this or leave a follow to keep up with future works~

[sakuralovespossums]

Yandere Dazai x Fem Reader

(Part 2)

Warning: Romanticized talks of suicide. Questionably dubious consent.

The first four bullet points are for my own interpretation of y/n. The rest are open to all.

Y/n was already going through a really tough time in her life when Dazai kidnapped her. Her parents had both passed away recently, she didn’t have much friends, and was in a depressive state.

You can see why Dazai picked her

Throughout her captivity, Dazai repeatedly reminds her of her loved ones’ deaths and how alone she was before meeting him.

He adds this to his reasons for why she should join him in death. She’ll be reunited with her parents and no longer bear the burden of living!

He likes ruffling your hair a lot

Will sometimes whisper into your ear about what a loving mother you would have made if you both had kids. That is if you both lived as a normal couple. He always reminds you of the last part.

If you’re short, he’ll often pick you up and twirl you around like a doll before peppering your face and neck with kisses.

You wish you could accept his acts of affection (you hope that desire stems from your prolonged isolation instead of actual feelings). This desire only grows the longer into your captivity.

Will talk about ideas as to how you guys should go out on the final day, as if he was excitedly planning for a wedding instead of something so dark.

“Oh belladonna~~, there’s this gorgeous cliff by the ocean that we can jump off of!! How about that?!”

“I umm…..have a fear of heights.”

He already knows all your fears, so he’ll easily catch onto when you’re lying as an attempt to try to prolong your deaths.

“Darling, you never told me you had a fear of heights.”

If you actually do have a fear of heights, he’ll understand and choose a different way for the both of you to “go out”.

Will pick a death thats as painless and peaceful as possible for you two. He wants this to be a truly special event between you and him.

He’ll try to comfort you/ease you into the idea and process of it the best he can. He’s a lot better at recognizing and manipulating people’s emotions, rather than comforting them.

He would love to take you out of the apartment and go to lots of places, do a lot of things, and make memories together during the days leading up to the final day.

That is IF he trusts that he’s broken you enough to where you won’t want to escape or go to other people for help.

If you’re foreign, he’ll take interest in your background and want to learn more about your home country, culture, language, religion, etc.

He’s a fast learner, so expect him to call you loving names in your native language so fluently.

You do have sex, but only when you’re at a point where you fully consent.

It’s really more at a point where you desperately crave intimate touch and need an escape from the sinking hopelessness of your situation.

Eventually however, it begins to grow more out of reluctant affection for your captor that you desperately try to deny.

It’s not long until Dazai notices and uses it to his advantage.

So he continues to make love to you whenever he can, overwhelming you with so much love and warmth. Your cage has never felt so soft.

Manipulative intentions aside, he truly enjoys being intimate with you. Though it’s not out of love, but rather an obsessive liking towards you as his chosen suicide partner.

If you want a part 3, let me know

[doormatty3]

Pushing Further - Josh POV (Josh Lambert x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Summary:

[Josh Lambert x Female Reader] [Josh Lambert x You] In hindsight, I could sense the trouble brewing before I knew it. However, I failed to anticipate that the trouble wouldn't manifest in Daltons and my usual arguments but rather in the form of one of his fellow students. She’s beautiful, funny, and yet, inconveniently, she happens to be not only my son's friend but also considerably younger than I am. Despite the inherent complications and the boundaries that should logically keep us apart, there's an undeniable magnetic pull drawing us closer together, a force neither of us can seem to resist – like celestial bodies orbiting each other, inevitably destined for collision. And boy, do we collide.

OR: How I fucked his friend in a college dorm room.

Wordcount: 8,611

Warnings: 18+, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, smut, dirty talk, older man/ younger woman, daddy issues

A/N: I was asked to write this story from Joshs POV - so here we are. If you want read-chans POV - click here

God, why did I tell Dalton I’d take him to college?

It seemed like a good idea at the time, a chance to bond and perhaps bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing day. But now, as I navigate the car into the crowded parking lot, I’m not so sure anymore. Dalton, with his sharp wit and unforgiving judgment, always seems to find fault in my every word. 

The college, a towering grey stone building, only adds to my unease. Its presence looms over us, a silent witness to our strained dynamic.

We exit the car silently and wordlessly, our shared tension palpable in the air. Words linger on the tip of my tongue, but they dissolve into the abyss of uncertainty. Together, we retrieve Dalton’s belongings, each shouldering a backpack and crate. 

As we trudge towards the entrance of the college, the weight of the crates mirrors the weight of our shared silence.

The sun casts its golden glow over the bustling campus, illuminating the scene with warmth, and I find myself immersed in a vibrant tapestry of new beginnings. Students move about, their laughter and chatter filling the air with excitement while parents guide their children towards the threshold of their next chapter. 

Yet, amidst this sea of optimism, melancholy washes over me. 

I observe the seamless interactions around me and the apparent ease with which other parents navigate the situation. They exude confidence and composure, their futures brimming with promise, while Dalton and I struggle to exchange even a civil word without it erupting into conflict.

As we stroll along the campus pathways, my gaze drifts lazily over the lush canopy of trees that envelop the college grounds.

Suddenly, my breath catches in my throat as my eyes settle on her. 

A woman, nestled beneath the shade of a sprawling tree, captivates my attention. She’s young, probably a senior or a new professor, finding solace in the embrace of nature. 

The wind teases the strands of her hair, coaxing them into a mesmerising dance, rippling and swaying with every gust. Each movement seems orchestrated, a ballet of nature’s own design, accentuating her effortless grace. 

Despite my best efforts to avert my gaze, I find myself drawn to her, captivated by the ethereal beauty she exudes. 

I quickly shake my head, chastising myself for entertaining such thoughts. It’s unwelcome, inappropriate, a mere distraction from the turmoil brewing in my life.

Each step feels uncertain. The distance between us echoes the chasm of misunderstanding that has grown over time. As we traverse the campus pathways, the vibrant pulse of student life surrounds us, a stark reminder of the vibrant community we’re a part of yet somehow apart from.

The dormitories loom ahead, their brick facades standing as silent sentinels against the sky’s backdrop. I steal a glance at Dalton, noting the furrow of his brow and the tension etched in the lines of his face. Despite our shared silence, a sense of determination flickers within me. Perhaps amidst the chaos of new beginnings, we can find a moment of clarity, a chance to bridge the chasm that divides us.

_____

As we reach Dalton’s dormitory room, a sense of anticipation lingers in the air, mingling with the faint scent of freshly laundered linens. The door swings open to reveal a surprisingly inviting space, a quintessential collage of collegiate life. The room is cosy yet functional, with twin beds neatly made, their comforters adorned with vibrant patterns that hint at the personality of its occupants.

Sunlight filters through the window, casting a warm glow upon the worn wooden desk and mismatched chairs that occupy the room. 

With a nod of approval, Dalton steps into the room, his eyes scanning the space with a hint of satisfaction. 

“Alright, you get first dibs,” I announce, relieved to find Dalton’s roommate absent. With a grateful sigh, I set down the folding crate on the sturdy wooden table, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling into my muscles from lugging Dalton’s belongings.

_____

I watch silently as Dalton retrieves his drawings and paintings from the crate, his movements purposeful as he begins to arrange them on the wall above his bed. My gaze drifts downward, drawn to a particular pencil drawing among his creations. With a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, I reach out and pick it up, my fingers tracing the delicate lines with reverence.

It’s a portrait of my mother - his grandmother - a hauntingly beautiful rendition that captures her essence with startling clarity. A pang of loss reverberates through me as memories of her flood my mind, her presence a bittersweet reminder of the love and warmth she brought into our lives.

“Wow, this is intense,” I remark softly, unable to tear my eyes away from the drawing. “Is that what you’ve been working on?”

Dalton turns around, his expression clouded with annoyance as he sees me holding the drawing. With a weary sigh, he mutters, “Put it back.”

But I can’t bring myself to comply. “No, this is really good,” I insist, my voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

I wish he would just accept the compliment, let down his guard and allow me to share in his world. 

I gaze at the drawing once more, my eyes tracing the intricate lines and shadows that bring my mother’s image to life. “Did you do this from memory?” I inquire, my curiosity piqued.

“No,” Dalton replies quietly, his gaze fixed on the floor. “It’s from a photo I found at the house.”

I nod in understanding, a swell of pride swelling within me. “Wow, it looks like she’s...” I begin, searching for the right words to convey the mix of emotions stirred by the portrait. But before I can finish my thought, Dalton interjects with a sombre observation.

“Like she’s hiding something?” he suggests, his tone tinged with melancholy.

His words catch me off guard, prompting me to furrow my brow in confusion. “What do you mean?” I inquire, my mind racing to make sense of his cryptic statement.

“It’s what it feels like,” Dalton explains, his voice tinged with resignation. “Felt like for the last few years.”

His words hang heavy in the air between us, a silent testament to the unspoken tensions that have simmered beneath the surface of our relationship. 

“She had a tough go, you know, being a single mom,” I murmur, my voice heavy with empathy.

As Dalton begins to speak, I tear my gaze away from the portrait, focusing once more on his words. “Yeah, yeah, that’s tough,” he replies, his voice carrying a note of resignation.

I can sense the unspoken pain lingering beneath his words,  knowing that his acknowledgement extends beyond mere recognition of my words. It’s a painful reminder of the sacrifices my ex-wife made, the burden she bore alone in raising our children.

With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly set the photo down once more, my gaze drifting back to the folding crate, trying to busy myself with unpacking.

____

I pivot on my heels, my gaze drawn towards the wall adorned with Dalton’s paintings. Each one is a testament to his talent, his brushstrokes capturing moments of intimacy and connection - moments that prominently feature his mother and siblings. But as I scan the array of images, a pang of bitterness lingers within me, a reminder of my absence from his artistic portraits.

“Guess I didn’t make the wall, huh?” I remark bitterly, unable to suppress the pang of hurt that accompanies the realisation of my exclusion.

Before he can offer an explanation, I raise a hand to halt his words, and my jaw clenches in an effort to mask my disappointment. “I don’t blame you,” I mutter quietly, the words heavy with resignation as I turn away, unwilling to confront the pain that lingers beneath the surface.

Turning away, I busy myself with organising the remaining contents of the folding crate, the weight of disappointment settling over me like a shroud.

I feel Dalton’s gaze linger on me, his silence weighing heavily in the air between us. With a heavy sigh, I muster the courage to speak, the words tumbling out in a rush as I attempt to articulate the tangled mess of emotions swirling within me.

“You know, I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately,” I confess, my voice tinged with a mixture of regret and vulnerability. “Of course, my dad wasn’t around at all...but...so it could be a lot worse.”

I pause, searching for the right words to convey the inner turmoil that has consumed me in recent years. “I’ve just been a little foggy these last few years,” I continue, my voice faltering slightly as I try to explain the inexplicable fog that clouds my thoughts and memories.

Admitting my struggles to Dalton is a daunting task - one that fills me with a sense of shame and inadequacy. But I need him to understand, to see beyond the facade of strength I’ve worn for so long.

“I don’t know...my brain just...” I trail off, my thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. “I just...haven’t been able to manage time for you, your brother, and sister,” I confess, my voice tinged with a note of desperation. It sounds like a flimsy excuse, I know that, but it’s the only explanation I can offer at this moment.

It feels feeble and inadequate in the face of the pain I’ve caused my family through my absence. 

“Have you ever thought about getting help?” he asks, his voice gentle yet probing.

As Dalton’s voice breaks the weighty silence, I’m momentarily taken aback, my gaze lifting to meet his with a hint of surprise. His question hangs in the air, heavy with concern and genuine curiosity. A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips, touched by his willingness to broach such a difficult topic.

The thought of seeking help feels foreign - like an admission of weakness, a testament to the brokenness that lurks within me.

“I...I’m just trying to push through,” I reply hesitantly, the words feeling hollow even as they pass my lips. It’s a feeble attempt to brush off his concern to avoid confronting the uncomfortable truth between us.

Before our conversation can delve any deeper, the dorm room door swings open with a sudden jolt, interrupting our exchange. A girl stands in the doorway, her arms laden with belongings, her expression a mix of surprise and embarrassment as she nearly stumbles into the room.

Caught off guard by the unexpected intrusion, I exchange a brief, apologetic glance with Dalton before turning my attention to the newcomer, offering a hesitant welcome smile.

The girl introduces herself as Chris Winslow. Dalton and I exchange a bemused glance, sharing the mutual confusion over the unexpected twist in his roommate assignment.

“I’m gonna go down to the housing office and get this all sorted out,” I announce, already turning towards the door to address the unforeseen situation.

However, before I can move, Chris speaks up. Her voice is calm and assured as she assures us that she’ll take care of the situation.

Caught off guard by her confidence and initiative, I hesitate momentarily, unsure whether to insist on handling the matter myself or trust in her assurances. But as I meet Dalton’s gaze, a silent understanding passes between us, and I nod in acquiescence, deferring to Chris’s offer to resolve the unexpected hiccup.

As Chris departs, leaving Dalton and me to process the unexpected turn of events, a chuckle escapes my lips. The absurdity of the situation is not lost on me. But as laughter subsides, my thoughts drift to the flyer I had stashed in my pocket earlier.

“Hey, uh,” I begin, rummaging through my pocket until I retrieve the crumpled flyer. “I snagged this for you.”

I extend the flyer towards Dalton, a hopeful glint in my eyes as I encourage him to consider exploring the opportunities presented by the frat party. “You should check it out. If you hate it, no worries,” I add, a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “But you’re not gonna hate it.”

However, instead of the excitement I anticipated, Dalton’s expression shifts to one of disappointment, evident as he meets my gaze.

“You really don’t know me, do you?” he retorts, his tone tinged with frustration. “I mean, do you really think I want to join a frat?”

His words strike a nerve, and my smile falters as a wave of frustration washes over me. “It’s just a party, Dalton,” I reply, my tone more defensive than intended. “Go. Have fun. I mean, do it for me - I drove you here.”

But even as the words leave my lips, I can’t shake the sinking feeling that I’ve missed the mark, that my attempts to connect with Dalton have fallen short once again. As I watch him grapple with his frustrations, a pang of regret washes over me, a silent acknowledgement of the barriers that still stand between us.

The accusation cuts through the air like a knife, leaving me momentarily stunned. “You didn’t even want to,” Dalton asserts, his frustration boiling over.

“Of course I did,” I retort, my voice tinged with defensiveness. It’s true that my ex-wife had urged me to drive him to college, but deep down, I had genuinely wanted to spend time with him to bridge the growing divide between us.

“Stop lying to me!” Dalton’s voice rises, his words laced with anger. “I heard what Mom said at the funeral.”

His accusation lands like a punch to the gut, leaving me reeling. 

The exchange of harsh words hangs heavy in the air between us, a testament to the simmering resentment and unspoken pain that has plagued beneath the surface for far too long. My anger flares at Dalton’s biting retort, his words cutting deep into the already fragile bond that binds us.

“Well, I still did it!” I shoot back, my own frustration bubbling to the surface.

His response, laced with sarcasm and bitterness, only fuels my anger. “Oh, so that makes you father of the year now?” he retorts, his tone dripping with disdain.

A pang of hurt pierces my heart at his words, the weight of his accusation heavy upon me. “Well, at least you got a father,” I snap back, my own voice tinged with bitterness.

But Dalton’s following words strike like a dagger to the heart, his anger seething beneath the surface as he lashes out with cold, calculated precision. “Stop blaming your dad for shit you screwed up,” he hisses, his finger pointed accusingly in my direction. “He left like 40 years ago. Get over it. God knows I’m not gonna be defined by you.”

The venom in his words cuts deep, leaving me reeling with a mixture of anger, sadness, and regret. As my temper flares, I unleash a torrent of hurtful words, the weight of my pain driving me to lash out in desperation.

“Are you kidding me? After all we’ve done for you?” I spit out, my voice trembling with emotion. “When did you become this ungrateful little shit?”

The moment the words leave my lips, I regret them, the sting of remorse washing over me like a tidal wave. But it’s too late; the damage is already done as Dalton’s gaze hardens with hurt and betrayal.

“No wonder Mom divorced you,” he throws back at me, his voice cold and unforgiving as he tosses the party flyer aside. “Thanks for the ride.”

With a heavy sigh, I watch Dalton turn away, his dismissal a painful reminder of the chasm separating us. As he retreats into the solitude of his anger, I find myself standing alone in the aftermath of our bitter exchange, grappling with the weight of my failures as a father. With a heavy heart, I turn and leave, the silence of the empty room echoing the emptiness in my soul.

As I hastily make my way down the corridor, the weight of my emotions threatens to overwhelm me. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. Desperation drives me forward, my steps quickening as I yearn to escape to the safety of my car.

Suddenly, a collision jolts me from my thoughts. I stumble backwards, my heart pounding in my chest as I watch the figure crumple to the floor with a loud thud. 

I look down to see it’s her - the beautiful young woman from earlier, her striking eyes filled with surprise and confusion.

For a moment, I’m frozen in place, torn between the instinct to help her and the overwhelming urge to flee. But as the weight of my emotions threatens to overwhelm me, I find myself unable to do anything but mumble a hasty apology before turning away.

With each hurried step, I feel the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. The corridor stretches endlessly before me, a cruel reminder of the distance I must traverse to reach the sanctuary of my car. As I finally break into a run, the echoes of my own footsteps reverberating against the walls, I can only hope to contain the storm raging within me until I’ve reached the safety of solitude.

_____

As I continue to grapple with the aftermath of our heated argument, the weight of guilt and regret hangs heavy upon my shoulders. Each voicemail message left for Dalton feels like a futile attempt to bridge the chasm between us, a desperate plea for forgiveness and reconciliation.

But today is different. Today, I’ve taken action to show Dalton that I’m committed to making amends and proving that I can be better. 

I’ve scheduled an MRI appointment with a brain specialist, hoping to shed light on the fog that has clouded my mind for far too long. 

I’ve already informed Dalton of this on one of the countless voicemails, but I feel compelled to tell him in person, to see the flicker of hope in his eyes, as I promise to make things right or at least wholeheartedly try. And so, with a mixture of trepidation and hope, I find myself driving to his college, the anticipation building with each passing mile.

Yet, as I approach the college campus, a part of my mind wanders to the chance encounter with the beautiful young woman from earlier. 

Despite my desperate need to seek forgiveness from Dalton, a small voice whispers in the back of my mind, urging me to seek her out and offer a belated apology for my clumsy actions.

With a conflicted heart, I push aside the distraction and focus on the task at hand. Today is about Dalton, about salvaging what’s left of our fractured relationship and rebuilding the trust that my shortcomings have shattered. 

As Dalton opens the door with a look of confusion, I offer him a tentative smile, my heart pounding in my chest with anticipation. “Hey,” I begin, my voice tinged with nervousness. “Sorry for the surprise visit. I was in the area and thought I’d drop by and talk to Dalton.”

I glance around the room, taking note of Dalton’s company - a mix of relief and apprehension swirling within me as I spot Chris, his temporary roommate, and her.

With a quick clearing of my throat, I introduce myself, a faint blush colouring my cheeks as our eyes meet. “I’m Josh, by the way.” 

Lost in a trance of admiration, I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from her. Drawn to her like a moth to a flame, I absorb every detail as if I’ve been starved for her presence. 

My eyes wander over her captivating face, drawn to her sparkling eyes, flawless skin, and perfectly formed features  -  her nose and lips, all wonderfully sculpted. The way her clothing hugs her curves seems almost tailored for her, accentuating her figure in all the right places.

As my mind wanders, consumed by the intoxicating fantasy of her, I can’t help but entertain forbidden thoughts. What would she taste like? Would she arch her back in pleasure if I were to kiss her neck? The mere notion sent a surge of heat coursing through my veins, igniting a fire within me that I struggled to contain.

A pang of self-awareness cuts through my reverie as I realise how fixated I’ve become, my thoughts echoing with a tinge of self-consciousness.

God, I sound like a teenager, I chide myself internally, desperately hoping that no one else has noticed the intensity of my gaze. The last thing I want is for her or anyone else in the room to realise that I’ve been unabashedly ogling her.

My reverie is abruptly shattered by Chris, who stands beside her, purposefully clearing her throat. Startled out of my trance, I blink rapidly, my mind snapping back to reality with a jolt.

Feeling a surge of nervousness coursing through me, I wet my lips, which suddenly feel dry as desert sand. “Well, I should get going,” I mumble, my voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

As if drawn by an invisible force, my gaze flickers back to her once more, unable to resist stealing one last glance before I leave. “It was nice to meet you,” I add, the words coming out in a soft murmur laced with genuine sincerity and lingering apprehension.

With a quick nod and a hesitant smile, I turn to leave, the weight of uncertainty hanging heavy in the air around me. 

As I step out the door and close it behind me, a wave of self-doubt washes over me, leaving me feeling utterly foolish. It dawns on me that the beautiful young woman I had been so captivated by is not only a student but also, therefore, even younger than I had initially assumed. 

The realisation only serves to compound my embarrassment as I grapple with the absurdity of my infatuation.

But even more troubling is the fact that she is Dalton’s friend - my own son’s friend. 

Everything dictates that she is off-limits, yet a part of me hesitates to acknowledge that truth. The undeniable pull I feel towards her, the electric spark of connection that seemed to flicker between us, refuses to be dismissed so easily.

With a heavy sigh, I berate myself for entertaining such foolish thoughts, for allowing myself to be swept away by a fantasy that can never be. I remind myself of the boundaries that must be respected, the lines that cannot be crossed. And yet, even as I chastise myself, a small voice within me whispers of the undeniable allure of the forbidden, tempting me to entertain the possibility of something more.

_____

The next time I encounter her, I exit from Dalton’s dormitory, stepping out into the openness of the day. The day’s warmth embraces me as I inhale deeply, savouring the sensation of freedom after being confined indoors.

Her soft voice cuts through the air, calling out my name with a touch of warmth that fills me with a sense of unexpected delight, “Hey Josh!”

Turning towards her, I’m greeted by her radiant smile, reflecting the genuine joy she feels at our chance encounter.

Without hesitation, I mirror her bright expression, instinctively returning her smile with equal enthusiasm. “Hey,” I respond warmly, the words flowing effortlessly from my lips. It’s nice to see you again.”

As my gaze sweeps over her form, I’m struck once again by her beauty, her figure accentuated by the snug fit of her clothing. From the gentle curve of her shoulders to the graceful line of her waist, every detail seems to beckon me, drawing me in with an irresistible magnetism.

Despite my efforts to maintain composure, my eyes linger for a moment longer than necessary on the neckline of her tight shirt, drawn irresistibly to the allure of her form.

“I’m sorry for running you over when we first met,” I begin, my voice tinged with genuine remorse as I scratch nervously at the hair on the back of my head. “Or at least for just walking away and not helping you up again.” The words spill out of me in a rush, fueled by the sincere desire to make amends for my past actions.

In response, she reaches out and places her hand on my forearm, the contact sending a subtle jolt of electricity racing through me. For a moment, I’m rendered speechless, my senses overwhelmed by the warmth of her touch and the intensity of our connection.

Unable to resist the pull any longer, I reach out and cover her hand with my own, marvelling at the stark contrast between the size of my hand and the delicate fragility of hers. Her touch feels like a lifeline, anchoring me in the present moment as I struggle to navigate the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me.

As if guided by some unseen force, I intertwine our fingers.

With each gentle stroke of my thumb against the back of her hand, I feel the tension between us easing, replaced by a quiet sense of comfort and belonging.

In that suspended moment, it feels as though time itself has halted, leaving us both entangled in a mesmerising trance. We stand there, locked in a silent exchange, our gazes intertwined in a dance of unspoken understanding and longing.

Driven by an instinct I can’t quite comprehend, I move closer to her, drawn in by the magnetic pull of her presence. As I do, her intoxicating scent envelops me like a comforting embrace, filling my senses with a heady mix of freshness and floral sweetness.

 I’m captivated by the sight of her, illuminated by the golden glow of the sunlight, her eyes sparkling with an inner light, and her skin luminous with a soft, radiant beauty.

But the spell is abruptly shattered when someone bumps into me, inadvertently jolting me back to reality with a sudden start - my mind finally catching up to what I’ve been doing and what we’ve been doing. 

With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly allow my hand to fall away from hers, stepping back from her as if to create a physical distance between us.

“I - ” I begin, my voice faltering slightly as I clear my throat. The remnants of our charged moment still linger in the air between us. “I should get going.”

With a sense of regret tugging at my heart, I tear my gaze away from her, unable to linger any longer. As I turn to leave, a part of me lingers in that moment, reluctant to let go of the fleeting connection we’ve shared. But I know that it’s the right thing to do. 

_____

The weight of the unresolved tension between Dalton’s friend and me casts a shadow over my thoughts, a constant presence that I cannot shake. 

Despite my best efforts to forget her, I find myself making frequent stops at the college, each visit accompanied by a faint glimmer of hope that I might catch a glimpse of her once more.

It’s a charade, really - a facade of repairing my strained relationship with my son, Dalton, that I maintain for the benefit of those around me. Even my ex-wife, Dalton’s mother, seems impressed by my newfound dedication to bridging the gap between us. 

But deep down, I know the real reason for my frequent visits - I long to see her again. 

Yet, each time I stop by Dalton’s dorm room or pick him up for an outing, she’s conspicuously absent.

Part of me wonders if she’s deliberately avoiding me, perhaps sensing the undeniable attraction that simmers beneath the surface. And yet, despite the rationality of her actions, I can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at her absence.

In my desperation to see her again, to confront the feelings that have been gnawing at me from within, I find myself entertaining reckless thoughts. 

Maybe, I think, she’s the reasonable one of the two of us, choosing to distance herself for the sake of decency. 

After all, our connection is fraught with complications, from the difference in our ages to the delicate balance of friendships and familial relationships. But another part - the part that’s consumed by longing and desire - yearns for the chance to reconnect, to even broach the subject of what has been weighing on my mind.

But I can’t deny the pull I feel towards her, the undeniable attraction that lingers between us.

So, I find myself grappling with conflicting emotions as I contemplate the possibility of reaching out to her if only to ease the ache in my heart and find some semblance of closure.

And that’s why I’m currently in Dalton’s room, the minutes ticking by in agonising slowness.

And then, as if on cue, the door swings open, but it isn’t Dalton who greets me - it’s her.

My heart skips a beat as I drink in the sight of her, the details of her appearance etched into my mind like a cherished memory. From the way, the sunlight catches the subtle highlights in her hair to the soft curve of her lips.

“I didn’t expect you here,” she says, her voice tinged with surprise and something else - something that I can’t quite decipher. 

For a moment, neither of us speaks, the air heavy with anticipation and unspoken words. And then, with a newfound sense of resolve, I find my voice.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” the words escape my lips before I can stop them, the accusation hanging in the air between us. I watch her closely, searching for any hint of a response in the depths of her gaze.

Silence stretches between us; the only sound is the steady rhythm of our breaths, which is audible. And then, without a word, she steps closer to me, her movement like a silent invitation that I can’t ignore.

With a sense of determination coursing through me, I close the remaining distance between us, the space between our bodies narrowing until barely a breath separates us. I reach out, my hand coming to rest on the door beside her head, the warmth of her presence seeping into my skin.

With a swift, fluid motion, I push the door closed, the sound of it clicking shut echoing loudly in the room. 

Her gaze holds mine captive, her eyes like beacons drawing me in, and I cannot look away. It’s as if she’s cast a spell over me, trapping me in her irresistible allure and leaving me powerless to resist.

Time seems to stand still in our embrace, enveloping us in a cocoon of blissful silence. The world outside fades into insignificance as I lose myself in her presence, my senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating allure of her nearness. I can feel the weight of her gaze upon me, her breath growing heavier with each passing moment, mirroring the surge of desire that courses through my veins.

She’s enchanting beyond words, and every fibre of my being yearns to surrender to the allure of her touch. But even as I revel in the euphoria of the moment, a voice of reason whispers in the depths of my mind, reminding me of the consequences of indulging in this forbidden attraction.

“Tell me to stop... tell me to walk away,” I murmur, my words barely more than a breathless plea. I need her to reject me, to push me away and spare us both from the inevitable heartache that awaits if we give in to temptation.

But her response shatters my resolve. Her voice is soft and full of longing as she whispers, “Kiss me.” It’s a command I can’t resist, a siren’s call that beckons me closer, drawing me into her irresistible embrace.

Without hesitation, I lean in, my lips meeting hers in a fervent kiss that ignites a firestorm of desire between us. It’s urgent and consuming, as if we’ve both been waiting for this moment. My hand rises to cup her cheek, savouring the warmth of her skin beneath my touch.

For a fleeting instant, I hope she’ll pull away, that she’ll realise the folly of our actions and put an end to this madness. But instead, she draws me closer, her hands finding purchase on my shoulders as she presses her body against mine.

I break the kiss reluctantly, my body buzzing with desire as I meet her gaze with a mixture of longing and disbelief. 

“Fuck,” I whisper hoarsely, my voice laced with desire. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

The smile that graces her lips sends a surge of warmth coursing through me - it’s enough to make me taste and kiss her and never let her go. 

So I do just that, and with each open-mouthed kiss I press to her jawline, I can feel the tension building between us, a palpable electric charge that crackles in the air.

“Well, I have an idea,” her voice is breathy, her words barely more than a whisper, but they send shivers down my spine. It’s clear that she’s just as affected by this intoxicating connection as I am.

My hands instinctively find their way into her soft hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands as I pull her closer. “Yeah, tell me,” I murmur, my voice husky with desire.

Capturing her bottom lip between my teeth, I bite down softly, eliciting a breathy gasp of my name from her lips. Encouraged by her response, I trail kisses along her jawline, savouring the taste of her skin against my lips.

Her soft whimpers and heavy breathing only fuel my desire, urging me onward as I continue to explore her neck with fervent kisses. When I suck a mark into the tender flesh of her neck, her moan sends a jolt of arousal coursing through me as I feel my cock hardening.

As her fingers dig into my shoulders, I groan softly, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body.

With a sense of urgency, she lets her hands roam over my back, her touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. And when she lifts the hem of my shirt, slipping her hands beneath the fabric, I can’t suppress the loud groan that escapes my lips.

Desperate to show her what she does to me, I press my hips against her, making her feel my hard dick.

But as she begins to grind against me, igniting a primal need that demands to be satisfied, I force myself to pull back. The momentary respite allows me to regain some semblance of control, my gaze flickering down to the delicate straps of her dress.

I swallow heavily, my mind racing with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and desires. On one hand, I know that crossing this line could have serious repercussions, threatening to shatter the fragile balance of our lives. But on the other hand, the intoxicating allure of her touch is impossible to resist.

When she pushes against me once more, her movements driving me to the brink of madness, I find myself unable to resist any longer. With trembling fingers, I slip beneath the straps of her dress, a silent acknowledgement of the choice we’re both making now.

As the fabric falls away, exposing the soft curves of her skin to my hungry gaze, I know there’s no turning back. 

I feel my cock getting even harder when I see her perky, bare tits. A quiet groan escapes my lips as I look at them - perfect, round, and inviting to touch.

As I reach out, my fingers trembling with anticipation, I gently run the pad of my thumb over her nipple, watching as it hardens under my touch.

Deliberately, almost teasingly, I trace patterns across her chest, my touch growing bolder with each passing moment. I revel in the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips and the way she responds to my caress with soft gasps and sighs of pleasure.

As I flick my fingers against her hardened nipples, her breathy moans drive me wild with desire. With each tug and roll of her tit, I can feel the tension building between us.

My exploration of her chest continues, my lips trailing a path of kisses along her collarbones. I nibble and suckle on the tender flesh, leaving a trail of marks in my wake. Some primal part of me yearns to mark her as my own, to leave a tangible reminder of our shared passion.

Through the haze of desire that clouds my mind, I can sense her frantic need for me, her hands clutching at my belt loops as she pulls me closer. The sensation of her grinding against my cock sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through my veins, making me groan in response.

I pull back slightly, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I try to regain some semblance of control.

Despite the offence evident in her expression, I can’t help but feel a rush of amusement bubbling up inside me. With a smirk playing at the corners of my lips, I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close once more as I press my lips against hers in a hungry kiss.

With a soft groan, I press my thigh between her legs, feeling the heat of her clothed cunt against my leg. The friction elicits a moan from her lips, confirming that she enjoys the sensation as much as I do.

Her hands are frantic as she breaks the kiss to undo my belt and jeans, her fingers fumbling in her haste. I watch with anticipation as my jeans fall to the floor with a soft thud, my hard cock straining against the fabric of my underwear in anticipation of her touch.

Even as my arousal pulses through me, I can’t help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness as she eyes me with hunger. I know I’m not as young as I used to be, my body bearing the marks of age and experience. But all doubts vanish as her fingertips trail over my chest and stomach, with nothing but appreciation and desire in her gaze.

I find myself struggling to contain the rising tide of desire that threatens to overwhelm me, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I allow her to explore my body at her own pace. 

But when her hand cups my hard cock through my underwear, all semblance of restraint vanishes in an instant. 

With a deep, guttural groan, I can no longer hold back, wrapping my arms around her and lifting her as I crush my lips against hers.

Biting down on her lip again, I relish the way she whimpers into my mouth, her body responding eagerly to my touch. I feel a surge of desire as I run my fingers over the soft flesh of her ass, prompting her to wrap her legs around my middle in a desperate embrace.

My mind is clouded with desire as I scan the room for a suitable surface, my gaze landing on the desk in the centre of the room.

In one fluid motion, I set her down on it, sweeping aside books and other belongings to make room.

I’m intoxicated by her presence, too lost in the haze of desire to care about anything else. Slotting myself between her legs, I tangle my hand in her hair, pulling her head back to meet my gaze. The way her breath quickens and her eyes darken with desire tells me she’s just as eager as I am.

But even amid our heated passion, a small voice of reason whispers in the back of my mind. With a ragged breath, I remind her of the importance of consent, my words heavy with sincerity.

“If you want to stop - at any point - you tell me,” I say, my voice filled with urgency and concern, a silent plea for her to acknowledge the gravity of our actions.

Her silent nod is all the confirmation I need as I gaze into her eyes, mesmerised by the raw desire burning within them. Her eyes are blown wide and on me, her lips pink and swollen, and I think I have never seen anything more beautiful. And I just know that I will never be able to stop craving her. 

I press a quick, fervent kiss to her lips, my hands deftly hitching her dress up higher, revealing more of her enticing curves.

My fingers find their way between her legs, tracing over the fabric of her panties. The heat and wetness that greets me nearly drives me over the edge, a primal growl rumbling in the depths of my throat.

As I drag my finger through her slit, teasing her clit. Her response is immediate and intense, her back arching into my touch as she lets out a breathless moan of pleasure. Encouraged by her reaction, I repeat the motion, feeling her nails scrape against my back in a deliciously sharp sensation.

The thought of bearing the marks of her touch for days to come only adds to the intensity of the moment, fueling my desire to be inside her. With a low, guttural moan, I press closer to her, my cock throbbing with need as I long to be enveloped by her warmth.

But I know that I have to make this good for her and prepare her before I take her. So I seat myself between her thighs, yanking her ass over the edge of the desk as I pull down her panties. 

Wrapping my hands around her thighs, I hold her open, exposing her pink, glistening pussy to my hungry gaze. The sight alone makes my mouth water in anticipation of tasting her sweetness.

She looks absolutely irresistible, and the sight of her arousal sends a shiver down my spine. Unable to resist any longer, I lean in and press a kiss to her clit, relishing in the taste of her as I swirl my tongue around it.

A low groan escapes me as I feel her shudder beneath me in response to my touch and cry out.

Pulling back slightly, I meet her gaze with a sense of urgency, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I speak. “You need to be quiet, sweetheart,” I murmur, my voice laced with a hint of warning. “Wouldn’t want anyone to come in here, right?”

She nods in response, her eyes wide with desire and her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Though I can see the struggle in her eyes, I know she’ll do her best to remain silent. As much as I want to hear her, we can’t afford to be caught in such a compromising position.

I lean down again, my palm pressing firmly against her stomach to hold her down as I lick a wide stripe over her cunt, eliciting a whimper of pleasure from her lips.

With each lick and suck, I explore her pussy, eager to discover what drives her wild and sends her over the edge. Her reactions are nothing short of intoxicating - the way her back arches off the desk and her hips buck against my mouth, seeking more of the pleasure I’m giving her.

The wood beneath her is already stained dark from her arousal. 

I revel in the feeling of her tightness around my fingers as I push them deeper inside her, curling them just right to send her spiralling towards ecstasy.

When she clenches around my tongue and bucks her hips, I know she’s on the brink of orgasm. With a sense of urgency, I pull her even closer, attaching my mouth to her clit and sucking hard while thrusting my fingers into her wet heat. 

The sensation of her spasming around my fingers only serves to heighten my arousal, my cock throbbing in response.

Before long, she’s cumming hard, her screams of pleasure filling the room as her body tenses and spasms in release. I continue to drink her greedily, relishing in the taste of her as she rides out her orgasm.

Only when she whimpers, clearly overstimulated, do I finally pull back, a satisfied smile on my lips as I take in her flushed appearance. She lays there, spread out and open, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, her eyes glazed with pleasure.

With her fingers digging into my shoulders, I rise to my feet, my knees protesting as I pull her close and capture her lips in a hungry kiss.

I press my hard, clothed cock against her cunt, relishing the sensation of her grinding down on it. A deep groan escapes me as I feel her heat against me.

As our lips meet, her hand slips into my briefs, wrapping around my aching dick. I can’t help but buck my hips involuntarily at her touch, the warmth of her hand sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.

With a sense of relief, she pushes down my underwear, freeing my throbbing cock. I watch as her hungry gaze fixates on it, her hand reaching out once more, enveloping me in warmth and pressure.

Another groan escapes me as she pumps my shaft once, the sensation driving me wild with desire. I ache to take her then and there, to lose myself in the heat of her body.

But when I see her intentions to slip down the desk, I place a firm hand on her thigh, gripping it tightly. My voice, husky with desire, cuts through the haze of lust as I speak, “You can return the favour next time. We have to be quick.”

I hope there will be a next time, and by how she looks at me, I can tell she feels the same.

I wrap my arms around her again, stealing another passionate kiss before lifting her off the desk. I refuse to fuck her on such a shoddy surface - she deserves the comfort of a bed. With purposeful strides, I walk us both over to the bed in the room, gently laying her down on her back.

With a hunger in my eyes, I lower myself on top of her, bracing my weight on my elbows as I hover over her. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, trailing hot kisses along her pulse point, savouring the intoxicating taste of her skin.

Feeling her soft body pressed against mine, I revel in the sensation as she pulls me even closer to her.

Her voice, wrecked and hoarse with need, sends shivers down my spine as she pleads, “Fuck me, please.”

With a low growl of approval, I press my lips to hers once more.

I grip my throbbing shaft firmly, guiding it against her slick folds. With deliberate care, I tease her entrance, tracing the outline of her slit and nudging her sensitive clit, eliciting a whimper from her – I need to ensure she’s ready for what’s to come.

Slowly and deliberately, I push just the tip of my cock inside her, feeling her tightness enveloping me. I pause, allowing her to adjust to the sensation, relishing in the heat and tightness of her depths.

Her impatience is evident as she whispers, “Josh, please.”

With a deep breath, I begin to inch my cock further into her with short, shallow thrusts. I keep my eyes locked on hers, gauging her reaction and ensuring her comfort with each movement. My own breathing becomes ragged as I feel her clenching and bucking against me, her arousal evident in every movement.

When her eyes flutter closed in ecstasy, I stop and wrap my hand around her throat, wanting her to look at me as I take her. With one final, deliberate thrust, I bury myself deep inside her, relishing in the sensation of her tightness around me.

“Just like that,” I whisper, “You’re doing so well”, feeling her clenching around me in response. At this moment, I know she’s ready – and I won’t be holding back.

She whimpers when I pull back, leaving only the tip of my cock inside her, craving more of the fullness I provide. Then, with a primal need, I slam my entire length back into her, eliciting a loud moan from her lips. Each thrust feels like I’m carving a pathway into her pussy, her slick walls parting before the force of my cock.

Her moans grow louder as I fuck her relentlessly, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room. The noises spur me on, driving me to fuck her harder and deeper. I can feel my balls slapping against her with every rough and hard thrust, the sensation driving me wild.

Feeling myself getting closer to the edge, I reach down and begin to rub my thumb over her clit, eliciting an immediate and intense reaction from her. She loses herself even further beneath me, her movements becoming more frantic as she clutches at the sheets as she clenches, bucks and whimpers.

With one particularly rough thrust, she shatters around me, her screams filling the room. I register her loudness, so I crush my mouth against hers in a rough kiss, muffling the sound as I continue to pound into her.

As my climax approaches, I push myself as deep as possible inside her before I tip over the edge, ensuring every last drop of my cum will be inside her. With a loud groan, I release inside her pussy, filling her up.

I kiss her passionately as I use her cunt to milk myself dry, ensuring that every last drop of my cum fills her completely.

I push the damp hair from her face as we both catch our breath. With a lazy tenderness, I press my lips against hers, savouring the softness of her touch as her hands weave through my hair, eliciting a contented sigh from deep within me.

As we lie there, I feel my cock softening inside her cunt, and I’m completely content in this moment of intimacy with her. 

But our blissful reverie is abruptly interrupted by her urgent voice piercing the air. “Shit, Josh. Get up,” she exclaims, her words tinged with a hint of panic.

Panic floods through me at her words, my first thought being that she regrets what just happened. However, when I notice her gaze fixed on her cunt, that’s gaping a bit and leaking my cum onto the bed, I realise the true reason for her urgency - We’ve just had sex in my son’s dorm room, and we’ve completely ruined the bed.

A soft chuckle escapes my lips, the tension evaporating as I lean in to kiss her again. It’s a silent reassurance that we’ll navigate this situation together. 

“It will be fine,” I whisper against her lips, my voice laced with reassurance.

Her bright eyes meet mine, wide and filled with warmth, as I gently trace her lips with my thumb. “Let’s get cleaned up first. And then I’d like to take you out for some food,” I suggest, eager to prolong our time together beyond the confines of this moment.

“Yeah… yeah, I’d like that,” her voice is soft, barely audible in the room, yet her beautiful face radiates a smile that fills me with warmth. In that fleeting moment, I realise that this is not merely a one-time occurrence. It’s a beginning, a promise of something more profound and meaningful. And as I gaze upon her, basking in the glow of her happiness, I silently vow to do whatever it takes to keep that smile on her face.

[v3nusxsky]

Hey!! I have a Lady Lesso request ❤️

Female reader and Lady Lesso have an exclusive D/s relationship. Reader is her submissive, not her gf and etc

Reader has feelings for her, but doesn’t talk about it cuz she’s too afraid to lose what she already has with Lesso

But something happened with reader (you choose, it can be the death of a family member/friend, depression etc), Lady Lesso notices there’s something wrong with reader and confortes her and makes reader feel cared for and better

Basically a mix between smut (BDSM obviously), angst and fluff LMAO

Also, if you’re willing to can you make it LONG? I really love your writing ❤️

Complicated| mixed

*Authors note~ gosh my requests are really clocking up rn so I'm doing my best to get through them guys! I'm so sorry it's taken so long really the next few months are hella hectic for me. Kinda changed it slightly to g!p but you could imagine it as an enchanted strap*

Trigger warnings~ dom/sub non romantic, g!p lesso 🤭 r has depression triggered by family abuse as a kid sh daddy leo praise degradation punishments, free use r somnophillia mentioned voice kink, bondage

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

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Bumping into Leonora at the cafe was the most unexpected yet magical thing you have ever experienced in this dull life. Something about the woman had you captivated, and no it wasn't just her extraordinary success in the legal word. Safe to say you caught her attention too, that's how she ended up slipping you her business card with two words scrawled beautifully across it, "call me" you weren't going to do it, after all it could've been a joke or perhaps you had imagined it all but the card sat in your wallet like a glowing reminder. She'd instructed you to call her and life seemed to push you towards doing so which is how you found yourself entering this agreement.

One small call ended up with you signing a contract with all the contents of being her submissive. Life had to be messing with you now, but then again it was about time you got something good in your life right? Leonora made it very clear that you could end the contract at any point like she could, strictly sex and nothing else but after care would always be given. She asked for details on your limits and hard nos she instructed you to choose a safe word and ensured you would want for nothing as her submissive and all you had to do was be at her beck and call. Easy right?

It was for the first six months, in those months you looked forward to the calls and texts from your dominant. Most of the time she sent a driver to come and bring you to her office, on the rare occasion you were called to her mansion where she would already be waiting in her play room, selecting out the toys she wished to use. Most of your punishments were carried out here as it was more of a practical clean up. You quickly learned that once after care was complete you were sent on your way, marked, sore and left with the beautiful memories of your time with her.

Some of your favourite encounters with her was the very very rare occasion you passed out in her bed and woke up to her girthy dick sheathed into your soaking cunt. Cock warming her until she was ready to use you again. Truly you were nothing more than her pretty little whore to use whenever she saw fit and that was something you'd began to like probably more than you should. Like wouldn't be the correct wording of course, you found yourself catching feelings for the red head but out of fear of losing the daddy dominant submissive relationship you have you decided it would be best to keep quiet. After all having her like this was better than not ever having her again. The idea of losing Leonora made your heart clench painfully.

You were a fairly good submissive really, only earning a few punishments here and there when you saw how stressed she was knowing it would help her relax, her favourite form of punishment was to edge you while you sat pretty of her dick warning it up for her to roughly fuck your throat until your make up trailed down your cheeks leaving you a needy mess in which she may even throw you over her lap and spank your pretty ass till it's all red. And yet you took it al like the good girl you are for her.

Leonora didn't truly realise her own feelings for you until she called for you and you never came. The disappointment and worry sat in her stomach like a rock leaving her more agitated as the hours trickled on. How could you not answer when she had summons you to! That went against the rules and the contract. You'd never broken a rule like this since the beginning, sure you could be a brat sometimes, but nothing unmanageable, truly you loved being her good girl so none of this made any form of sense to her now. Immediately, her mind jumped to the worst conclusions and that's where she decided being the head of her own firm got her privileges of her own, so she picked up what she needed and immediately set out to find you, first stop your apartment.

Leonora is a creature of habit, so it's to no ones surprise that she's had the same driver for years so he was absolutely use to ignoring what happened in the back of the car. Despite that he couldn't ignore the worried state of the normally stoic woman. "Ma'am? Are you alright?" He tentatively wondered out loud but was quickly met with the slamming of the divider in a response. Clearly Leonora wasn't in the mood for talking.

The car hardly came to a stop before the angry redhead was out and racing to the doors to find you. She wasn't exactly expecting to see your apartment absolutely trashed to high hell, which seemed very unlike what she had imagined, not only that there was shards of glass and some held a dried crimson tint. Immediately she began to panic and call for you, your submissive title, your name and even a love or darling may have slipped from her lips.

Finding you was the worst moment in her entire existence. Laid on your bed your arm littered in fresh bleeding cuts as you drifted in and out of consciousness. You skin seemed paler than before your hair knotted and tangled, the baggy shirt seemingly falling off your frame. How on earth could she have missed this?!

"Y/n?, my love please wake up darling" she demanded coming to apply pressure to the self inflicted wounds, wincing at your blood now staining her hands. "Let me go" you weakly mumbled trying to turn away from her. "No! Y/n ad your daddy I won't let you go! You're mine!" She all but snarled using her playing voice which seemed to trigger an innate response in your mind. "Leonora" you gasped in shock trying to rush to sit up, eyes darting around your depression room, "It's normally tidy I swear! Oh my gosh I'm so sorry daddy give me five minutes and I'll be ready for you!" You mumbled trying to stand up despite the wave of dizziness and her hands applying pressure to the wounds. "We aren't going to play right now darling, sit."

You sat back down, her tone leaving no room for arguments but her eyes somehow seeming softer than you've ever seen before. "Now, while I clean and bandage these, darling I demand you tell me what's been going on." You did as you were told of course, starting from the very beginning of your rough childhood and right up to the present day where you explained you'd been triggered off by a family visit, one of which they took great pride of telling you how worthless and unlovable you are. Hell one of your brothers even told you, "to earn money you may as well stand on the corner of the street, don't forget a bag over your face though otherwise no one will wanna touch you." You remember how they made you feel like you don't fit in there, like no matter how hard you try you just don't belong in their fancy world.

Leonora made sure you lived comfortably as per the contact so to hear such horrid words about the clothes and things she brought you just to see a small smile on her submissive before railing you into next week hurt. Leonora finished her work, satisfied they were properly taken care of before somehow producing the contract from her blazer pocket. "You see this darling?" She asked gaining your attention before tearing it apart. "Gone. No rules to stop me saying this. I love you Y/n truly I think I always have since that day in the cafe, I just wasn't ready to admit that I loved someone so beautiful. I'm setting you free Y/n to follow your heart, but never forget how I will always love you darling."

She loved you? Crazy. Insane. Unrealistic. But true. And by the way you slammed your lips onto her own she could tell that you love her too. So there was no need for contracts of deals when you both held love for each other. She could dote on you, spoil you, cuddle you and make love to you. You'd never feel this level of pain again, not on her watch. Your happiness will always come first. And she silently promised herself that she'd never leave you this long to check on you. Pulling away from your lips she moved to kiss each area of your bandaged arm, "you my darling girl, are so loved and worthy and I never want to see you hurting. Next time you come to daddy okay? I can help you my sweet girl."

It would take some time to navigate this new dimension to your relationship but none either one of you'd ever regret. Leonora was happy to take on you as her lover and her submissive and you soon found out you liked every side of the red head. The daddy dominant, the gentle lover and most of all your kickass lawyer of a soulmate. Life would finally look up for you and you couldn't wait.

Word count~ 1759

[lozchi]

Hello friend! Can I request Taehoon with a reader who loves to dance? (Not professionally but they’ll do it while they’re cooking or cleaning or something like that.) And one day Taehoon hears a song that reminds him of the reader and starts to do some of their moves. No pressure! I hope you have a great one!😁

DiscorDANCE

A/N: Goodness, I love the idea. My self-shipping ass actually thought of this at some point. Sorry that this took so long! I've been pretty busy in life and I only finished reading Viral Hit today. @ryusuisloveinterest  Pairing: Taehoon Seong x GN!Reader Themes: Fluff, petnames, Taehoon being a wuss

Taehoon finds it cute, really. It wasn't just that he found it cute; it was more like an electrifying sensation that coursed through his veins. Maybe it's just the way he's captivated by your movements, or perhaps it's just the way how your face lights up as you'd dance as if nobody were watching.

But honestly, the music choice could be better. Who in their right fucking mind listens to "phonk"? " It was as though someone had taken a blender to a cacophony of dissonant noises, mixed it with Snapper and Hobin’s yelling and called it music.

"Ughhhh- Make it stop."

Taehoon groans, rolling his eyes in discontentment.

"Nuh-uh. I ain't gonna."

As the pulsating bass throbs through the air, you find yourself swaying to the rhythm, your body moving confidently despite the mediocre music assaulting both of your ears. With each step, you defy the ear-bleeding tunes. Your eyes sparkle with an infectious joy as you twirl and spin, lost in a world where only your happiness matters.

The bass may be shit, but your energy soars above it, overshadowing the limitations of the melody. In your dance, there's a magic that makes Taehoon forget about the shitty song; Turning the ordinary into something extraordinary.

Fuck. You’ve got Taehoon smiling like an idiot. When he notices it, he quickly wipes it off, but it's not too late for you to catch his affectionate gaze.

”The fuck ya want?”

He scowls, only for you to return a smirk.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Dashing around the house, frantically searching through your drawers for something to wear, you disturb a very peaceful Taehoon (a rare sight, wow) engaged in a phone call with his dad. He might have overlooked your antics if he hadn't noticed you making a beeline for the door.

“Babe, I’m off to Rumi’s for a bit. Don’t forget to give Tiger his medication!”

Peppering kisses all over his face, he lets out a resigned sigh.

”At this hour? I don’t think so. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

It's not as if Taehoon is in any position to lecture. His sleeping schedule is even more fucked up than yours. Yeah, he admits to himself that it may be hypocritical to tell you not to go out so late and possibly cause danger to yourself when he does it too. Which is why, without uttering a word, you lock eyes with him, and he relents.

”Just get back safely or call me, alright?”

And the master negotiator (without negotiating) wins again.

”Mhm, I’ll be back”

Before you leave, Taehoon kisses back (followed by a flick on the forehead, because he’s the bitchiest of all bitches). He could’ve sworn he heard Hansu chuckling through the other side of the phone. This old man can only gush about this very moment.

-

Tranquility, at last. No jarring phonk music assaulting his poor fucking ears, no impromptu silly dances disrupting the peace. But amidst this newfound calm, Taehoon finds himself missing it all. (It’s only been a minute-) Now he actually doesn’t mind the music you play. He could be calling Hobin to come over, play some video games, talk to his dad again but he’s probably too embarrassed to hear his father bring up how soft he was earlier.

”Come here, you lil’ rascal. It’s time for your meds”

He calls out to your cat, who dutifully obeys, padding over to Taehoon's side.

And it wasn’t long before Taehoon finds himself listening to your carefully curated phonk playlist on Spotify. The beats pulse through his earphones, he pictures you leaping around the room, your laughter filling the space as you lose yourself in the music's infectious energy. And suddenly, the absence of your hijinks feels like a void he hadn't realized was there.

”How does Y/N go about it again? Like this?”

Taehoon mutters to himself, attempting to mimic your dance moves.

If only your cat could talk, it would regale you with TEA of Taehoon's comical attempts to imitate your silly movements. Despite his status as a taekwondo prodigy, his body just doesn't seem to move in the same fluid way as yours. It's a sight to behold, watching him stumble and flail around the room, his efforts more resembling a worm sprinkled with salt than a seasoned dancer.

He hisses, now cringing to himself and glad you aren’t around to see how shit-

With a sheepish grin, you approach the door, your keys conspicuously absent from your hand.

”Gah, how could I forget my phone out of all things?! I hope Taehoon’s asleep by now, otherwise I’d have to deal with his bickering, and- Taehoooon?”

As you reach for the handle, you're met with an unexpected sight: Taehoon, in all his clumsy glory, attempting to replicate your dance moves with a level of finesse that could only be described as the equivalent of the Hobin Yoo Company's chaos. Caught off guard by the scene unfolding before you, you can't help but burst into laughter, momentarily forgetting the reason you needed to enter the room in the first place.

”Is this what you do when I’m not around?”

And then, just when you think it couldn't get any cringier, he manages to stub his toe on the corner of the coffee table.

”FU-”

Taehoon clears his throat, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment in your presence, a rare occurrence for someone usually so composed. But his embarrassment is momentarily overshadowed by his curiosity as to why you've returned so quickly.

"Anyway, why are you here already? Not that I don’t mind, but—"

You bashfully avert your gaze to the ground, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips.

"I forgot my phone…"

"Tsk! Do you really have to be this irresponsible sometimes?!? What could’ve happened if you didn’t get in contact with me?"

Taehoon pulls you into a tight hug, his worry palpable in the embrace. But amidst his concerns, you can't help but sense his underlying desire to distract you from the awkwardness of his recent dance attempt.

A part of you acknowledges his genuine concern, but another part recognizes this as one of his subtle ways to divert your attention from the potential blackmail material you just witnessed. Despite his attempt to shift the focus, his affectionate (but tsundere) nature somehow manages to shine through.

”Taehoon?”

”Hm?”

”Why were you-”

”We don’t talk about that.”

”But-”

”Shush, or I won’t let you go back to Rumi’s.”

”Meow~”

[am4ura]

So I had this AU idea that is idk complicated but I need to share it somehow.

So basically what if the unit leaders / sekai owners were spirits linked to their Sekai, that in this case is more like a domain.

Leonii's instead of a school would be a space like zone. Mmj's instead of a stage would be a sky, kinda similar to the background in "hear me hopeful show" set. Empty Sekai would stay kind of the same. I haven't had any ideas for street or wonderland Sekai.

The Sekai owners (or Sekai spirits) have all characteristics relevant to their Sekai.

Ichika is mostly made of stars and nebulae. With her hair and parts of her body moving and flowing around. She also has hollow eyes that light up with little stars when she's happy.

Minori Is a mix of an Angel and a light being. She's mostly made of light, but has a projection of her body making her look kinda like a biblically accurate angel? She has lots of feathers around her body and a bandage covering her eyes (that are completely made of blinding lights)

Kohane is made of coloured smokes, like the ones of spray pain bottles. She can change colour and size based on her appearance. She can also turn herself into graffiti. She does that a lot to blend in and hide.

Tsukasa shares a lot of characteristics with an hippogryph, with mane and wings of light/fire. He also has hooves instead of feet. Like. A mix of a phoenix and a Pegasus.

Mafuyu (not kanade BC mafuyu is the Sekai owner) is very similar to a banshee. Ghostly and transparent appearance, covered in veils to hide herself and her suffering. She would also kinda look like a ragdoll, with parts of her body and face stitched together.

There are lots of legends about these sekais and Sekai spirits. It's said that if you're too passionate about something or too determined to reach a goal, you will get absorbed by one of these domains and eaten by the spirit. These Sekai spirits are also said to be lost kids with a big passion for something, but never managed to make it a thing.

So imagine the other members of the unit being so determined with their music, that one day they all wake up in this unknown unreal place and find basically a god just chilling there.

The Sekai spirits are all very lonely at the end and they just wanted someone to spend time with.

Ichika would at first be shy and try to not approach the rest of leoneed in fear of scaring them or be a burden, but in the end they would all try to make her smile and feel less lonely (Saki does the first steps), since it reminded them of their lost childhood friend.

Minori would immediately rush to get to know mmj. She gets captivated by all of them in a short time and would admire their beauty and their grace. At first mmj is kinda overwhelmed by this bright (eheh) presence, but they quickly start to love her. Haruka in particular, finding the way this spirit talks similar to the way one of her fans would write her letters.

Kohane would at first hide, scared of people she doesn't know, but would then slowly introduce herself only to an. An gets immediately a big liking of her, seeing in kohane the perfect partner she kept seeing in her dreams. When kohane gains more courage she shows herself to akitoya too. I also imagine this fun scene where an and kohane are talking, then akito reaches to an, kohane disappears and akito thinks an is crazy for talking alone.

Tsukasa would try to show off as the "mighty blazing Sekai spirit" but would cringefail anyways. Wxs seems unfazed by that, actually being interested in how tsukasa matches almost perfectly the description of the main character of a famous theatre show about a fantasy world.

Mafuyu hides, but not like kohane or Ichika. She wants to be alone. She accepted her fate of being forgotten and having to suffer alone. She tries to push the other members of niigo away, but they are resilient in trying to put an end to her pain (mostly kanade) because they know the same feeling. In the end mafuyu accepts their warmth.

Uhhh idk I think that's it. Sorry for the long yap, ideas kept flowing like a river. I might try to doodle something one day.