#y/n: 💔💔💔💔💔

[acid-ixx]

a loving family, an unpalatable desire

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.

imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.

you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.

you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.

really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.

yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.

the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.

but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.

you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.

yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.

you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.

you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.

maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.

and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.

''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.

and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.

you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.

your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—

it's everything a parent wants, needs even.

and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.

so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.

a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.

[xoxochb]

What do you think the HoO boys aftercare is like?? 😶😶

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

percy jackson is my personal favorite! he’s kinda similar to jason except he’s an ass because that’s percy. he likes to tease you n shit but nonetheless he pecks your forehead and praises you on how well you did for him (add in that ‘good girl’ I’m DECEASED). I feel like he enjoys taking a bath after, holding your docile body carefully and cleaning you up mhm hm. he likes to kiss ur neck gently n then after he wraps u up in a towel and dresses u all himself 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

jason grace is without a doubt the best aftercare bf I know it 🙂‍↕️ he puts himself in mother mode and assures that you are fully cared for. firstly, he will let you take a moment to calm yourself down to a normal level before he begins pestering you with questions like the ‘are you okay?’ + ‘how are you feeling?’ + ‘do you need anything?’ and he does everything in his power to make sure that you’re well taken care of and comfortable!!!!

leo valdez is something that’s for sure… he likes to trace his fingers over the marks he made on your skin while murmuring some spanish curse words for letting himself do such a thing to you. but anyways he likes to take a shower with you following! assuring to scrub your body diligently and carefully to not harm you. if he’s really lucky he’ll get a second round during this time!

[iloveroblox48]

thinking of katsuki who hates the summer he hates it for many reasons he hates the way he sweats more than normal making him feel extra sticky,the way he feels the need to slap everyone that talks to him,the heat making him more agitated, but he hates most how its to hot to hold you,to cuddle at night and so much more.

it started on monday when it was a scorching eighty-one degrees plus the humidity making everything extra hot not only did he have to train in this heat but then back at the dorms most of the ac units had broke so everyone was in shorts and tank tops.then came nighttime it was still hot just less humidity you and him were in his dorm laying in bed trying to sleep,comfoter tossed on the floor window up trying to help the air circulation,like any other night katsuki wanted to cuddle,he felt safe in your presence and knowing that you were there so as you were truned on your side he cuddled up behind you hand around your waist then the unthinkable happend you had pushed him off saying something along the lines of

“to hot to cuddle kats” your voice a slight whine

he had huffed out some air and turned away your backs facing each other and thats how it was all week him not being able to hold you through out the night he was soo mad.he had to complian to aizawa who had said “nothing i can do about it tough luck kid” he had been growing heated since the stupid ac had went broke so he marched right up to principal nezu’s office ready to punch the stupid mammal if he doesnt get some cold air and to cuddle his loved one right now.

“principal nezu im begging you please fix this stupid ac i cant even focus on anything with how hot it is”

“im sorry bakugou but we have other things to focus on right now besides the ac” the death stare he gave nezu was petrifying.

so the next day everyone was relieved when the ac was fixed and he was relieved to when he could finally cuddle you again

❣︎ ➝ Masterlist here!

❣︎ ➝ A/n: i live for soft katsuki ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )

[qtboni]

╰﹒ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

OVERVIEW: Despite Simon's difficulty in expressing his emotions, he still finds ways to show his love for you.

C/W: Entirely fluff + kisses, don't worry.

W/C: 1.3k bubs

Little gestures demonstrate Simon's deep affection for you.

So it's not unusual for you to find a steaming hot coffee sitting on top of your desk, with a sticky note on it, greeting you a nice 'Have A Great Day,' and an affirming 'I Love You.' message at the end.

This small but meaningful gesture of affection is one of the many ways Simon shows you how much he cares, even when he struggles to express his emotions verbally. It's a small but powerful reminder that you matter to him and that he's always thinking of you, even while pursuing his calling as a soldier, as a lieutenant.

Regardless of the day or circumstances, you can always count on this tiny but thoughtful act of kindness from Simon.

You set the coffee cup down, feeling warm and cared for by the lovely gesture. And as you start your day, you can't help but feel grateful for his presence in your life. Even when he's not physically present, you know that his love is always with you, and that's more than enough.

So you smile, take a deep breath, and start your day with a clear mind and a full heart, knowing that you're one of the lucky ones who has a partner that cares so deeply.

You have Simon, and that's more than just a sticky note with a sweet message - that's true love, and it's something you cherish every day.

As you take another sip of the coffee, you look up and see Simon standing in the doorway, a sheepish look on his face. "Hey," he whispered.

Today was one of the days when Simon got to escape the monotony of daily military duties and just relax at home with you. He had traded in his usual military fatigues for a cozy black t-shirt and sweatpants, giving him a chance to take it easy. He even left his famous skull mask and balaclava behind, a sign of just how much he trusted you as his significant other.

Instead of the formidable Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley, the fearless soldier, here you saw a soft-spoken Simon, your Simon, who had let down his guards and chosen to be vulnerable with you. It was a moment of pure intimacy between the two of you, a precious break from the chaos of the world outside.

"How's the coffee?" He continued, his voice tinged with hesitation. "Is it to your liking?"

"Of course it is," you reply, smiling at him. "I always appreciate it when you take the time to do something like this for me."

It's a small thing, but it means a lot.

Simon's face lights up as you speak, and he takes a step forward, reaching for your hand. You can see the love in his eyes, even though he isn't always the best at showing it with words. "I'm glad you like it," he says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You feel your heart swelling with emotion, and you lean forward to give him a kiss. "I love you, Si'," you whisper. "And I appreciate everything you do for me. Thank you."

With a smile on his face, Simon leans into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close. You both savor the moment, savoring the warmth of the coffee, the love that you share, and the comfort of each other's arms.

As you slowly pull away, Simon looks into your eyes, his expression softer and more open than usual. You can see the gratitude and affection in his eyes, and you feel a warmth in your chest that you've never felt before.

"I love you too," he says, his voice low and earnest. "I don't know how I'd get through life without you by my side."

You smile, feeling a swell of love in your heart. Simon takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, and for a moment, you both just stand there, basking in the warmth of each other's presence.

It's a small moment, but to you, it's everything.

After sharing another smile, Simon goes back to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee as well. The sound of the refrigerator opening and closing fills the room as he takes out the creamer.

"Sugar?" Simon asks with a grin, gesturing towards the sugar jar.

"Yeah, just a pinch," you reply with a smile.

Simon adds a little bit of sugar to your cup and then to his. As the steam rises from the hot coffee, Simon takes a sip from his cup and lets out a satisfied groan.

"Ah, that hits the spot!" he says with a smile.

You also take a sip of your coffee and let out a contented sigh. "It's perfect, as always," you say, looking up at Simon.

"Thanks," he replies, smiling back at you. "I just wanted to show you a little extra affection this morning." He shyly averts his gaze from yours, blushing as he do so.

"Well, it definitely wasn't necessary, since you always make me feel loved and appreciated," you say with a smile. "But it was still a really sweet gesture, means a lot to me."

Simon nods and takes another sip of his coffee, seemingly lost in thought. "I just... I know that I'm not always the best at showing you how much I love you with words," he says after a few moments. "So I wanted to do something to make sure you know that I care."

"Simon," you say, putting your cup down on the table. You walked up to where he was standing and cupped his face gently, caressing as you do so. "You don't need to worry about that. I know that you love me. And as much as I love those little notes and gestures, it's the everyday things that you do that show how much you care. Like making me coffee in the morning... you're always there for me, no matter what. And that means more to me than anything else in the world."

Simon looks at you with a soft smile on his face, his eyes shining with adoration. And for a moment, you both just sit there in silence, basking in the comfort and warmth of each other's presence.

Simon takes a deep breath, feeling the warmth from your hands and the love in your words. He looks into your eyes and sees the love and gratitude that you have for him. It makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world, to have someone like you by his side.

"You're everything to me, you know that?" Simon leans in and gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead. It's a soft, sweet kiss, filled with all the love and affection he has in his heart. In that moment, you both know that you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

With a soft smile on your face, you lean back, feeling the warmth from the coffee cup in your hands and the warmth from Simon's love in your heart. It's a moment of pure contentment, a reminder of just how fortunate you are to have each other.

You pecked his cheeks so softly, and Simon can't help but feel a sense of warmth and comfort wash over him. Your kind words fill his heart with joy and he appreciates the love and support you provide him on a daily basis.

He knows that he doesn't always show it, but being able to show himself in this vulnerable state makes him realize just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

You make him feel safe, loved, and appreciated, and he is so grateful for it. You are his everything, and he can’t imagine living his life without you. "Thank you for being my person, my love. I love you."

A/N: Here is my take on a cod character! I know it's not the best and I might've made simon kinda ooc, but I just couldn't help but to have a softy Simon Riley today ><

[lulujeno]

sk8er boi — park jisung ᡣ𐭩

summary : he was a punk, she did ballet. what more can i say?

warnings : none...? just y/n looking down on herself a lot </3

wc : 3.2k

a/n : reader uses she/her pronouns!! skater!jisung & older brother!chenle ^^ kind of enemies to lovers...? crush culture pt. 2 SOON, enjoy this for now pls <3

Neo Academy was a world of polished marble floors and perfectly pressed uniforms, where every student moved with precision, like chess pieces in a grand game. The academy prided itself on excellence, and the students knew they were part of that polished image. The neatly ironed white shirts, forest green blazers, and plaid skirts or trousers were more than just uniforms; they were symbols of control, a constant reminder of the high standards expected of them. Everything had to be immaculate, pristine. Perfection wasn't just encouraged, it was demanded.

This was your life. You had mastered the art of composure, keeping your head down and excelling in everything you touched. Academic success came naturally to you, but ballet was your refuge. The dance studio was the only place where you could truly express yourself without the weight of expectations, where you could shine as an individual, not as someone's sister. On stage, you were known for your grace, gliding as though you were weightless, every movement precise and deliberate. Yet outside of those studio walls, you were often overshadowed by your brother; Chenle, the basketball captain and student council president, beloved by everyone.

Chenle was the golden boy, effortlessly charming with a smile that could light up a room and a natural confidence that drew people to him. You, on the other hand, preferred the quiet precision of ballet, a world far removed from the chaotic cheers of the basketball court. You were reserved, focused, content with being in the background while Chenle basked in the spotlight.

Then there was Jisung. He was the anomaly, the skater boy who seemed to break all of Neo Academy’s rigid rules just by existing. He never looked like he belonged in this polished world of straight lines and structured schedules. His uniform was always wrinkled, his tie forever loose, and his hair tousled as though he had just rolled out of bed. His skateboard was a permanent fixture, hanging off his backpack or tucked under his arm, and more often than not, he'd skate through the marble hallways with little regard for the disapproving glares of teachers. If Neo Academy was a meticulously ticking clock, Jisung was the hand that moved out of sync, wild and unpredictable.

Despite how much you tried to ignore him, Jisung was impossible to avoid. He was always around, especially since he was close friends with your brother. Wherever Chenle went, Jisung followed: at the lunch table, at basketball practice, and loitering in the hallways between classes. He had a habit of slouching with his hands in his pockets, flashing that lazy, confident grin that always seemed to irritate you. He didn’t follow the rules, and worse, he didn’t seem to care. You couldn’t understand him. How could someone so messy and carefree survive in a place like this?

Your friends didn’t share your disdain for Jisung. To them, he was refreshingly different from the other boys at school, someone who wasn’t afraid to stand out. But to you, Jisung was a nuisance, someone who disrupted the perfect world you had carefully constructed. As much as you wanted to pretend he didn’t exist, he was an enigma you couldn’t quite shake. He was everything you weren’t: spontaneous, carefree, and utterly unconcerned with rules.

The day was winding down, and the sun was beginning to set. You had finished your classes earlier but decided to stay back, hoping to find some quiet time in the dance studio to practice without distractions. It was a space usually occupied by various dance clubs during the day, but in the evening, it was often deserted — perfect for the solitude you craved. You walked through the empty halls, your pleated skirt swishing lightly with each step, ballet shoes in hand. The school’s bustling energy had faded, leaving behind a tranquil silence.

The dance studio was your sanctuary, where you could shed the role of Chenle’s sister and the burden of perfection. As you entered the room, the familiar scent of polished wood and resin greeted you. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a golden glow on the mirrors that lined the walls. You set down your bag, exchanging your uniform for the leotard hidden beneath, and tied your hair into a tight bun. Your reflection in the mirror was calm, determined, ready to lose yourself in the rhythm of the music.

The first soft notes of a piano filled the room as you began your warm-up. The movements came easily, your body remembering every pirouette, every plié as though you were born to dance. In the studio, you were in control. Here, nothing could distract you from the elegance of the routine you had perfected.

Or so you thought.

The sound of wheels rolling over tile echoed through the hallway outside, breaking the quiet peace of the studio. You frowned, your brow furrowing in irritation. It didn’t take much to guess who it was. The door creaked open, and without needing to turn, you already knew who stood in the doorway.

Jisung.

He leaned casually against the doorframe, his skateboard under one arm, his blazer slung over his shoulder. His shirt was untucked on one side, his tie hanging loosely in that signature careless way of his. “What, no applause?” he smirked, sauntering into the room with an air of nonchalance, as if he owned the place.

You sighed, your exasperation barely contained. “Can’t you find somewhere else to skate?” you asked, your voice sharp with annoyance.

Jisung grinned, kicking his skateboard forward so it rolled across the wooden floor before coming to a stop near the ballet barre. “Why would I? This place has the best view,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You shot him a glare, folding your arms over your chest. “This is where I practice. Alone.”

“Alone’s boring,” Jisung shrugged, moving to sit on the floor, leaning back against the wall as if he had every right to be there. “I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

You knew better than to believe him, but arguing was pointless. You turned back to the mirror, determined to ignore his presence, even though you could feel his gaze lingering on you. As you began your routine again, the elegant movements came less easily. His presence was like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

You tried to focus, but it was impossible to block him out completely. Each leap, each spin felt heavier under the weight of his eyes, and soon enough, your rhythm faltered. A misstep during a pirouette sent you stumbling, your frustration boiling over as you heard Jisung’s barely stifled laugh.

“You’re distracting me,” you snapped, shooting him a withering look.

“Maybe you just need to lighten up,” Jisung replied, his tone teasing but not unkind.

You clenched your jaw, turning back to the mirror with renewed determination. But no matter how hard you tried, the tension wouldn’t leave your body. Every movement felt stiff, and the control you usually held so effortlessly was slipping away. Finally, you stopped, admitting defeat. It was pointless to continue with him there, his presence an unshakable distraction.

Since that night, he’s been a fixture at your late practices, an unexpected yet oddly consistent presence. You’ve gotten used to him lingering in the dim studio as you rehearse. But tonight, everything seemed to be testing your patience — even Jisung.

After multiple failed attempts at the same turn, you finally let out a frustrated sigh and dropped to the floor, stretching your legs out in front of you. You leaned back on your hands, staring at the ceiling as your chest heaved from the effort of hours of practice.

Jisung was still leaning against the barre, watching you with an expression that somehow only deepened your irritation. He pushed off, sauntering over with a lazy grin before plopping down beside you. “That rough, huh?”

You shot him a look, though there was little actual venom behind it. “Why do you keep coming here?”

He shrugged, tilting his head as his gaze shifted toward the mirrored ceiling. “I dunno. It’s kinda fun watching you try so hard.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Try so hard?”

“Yeah,” he replied, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “You’re always so serious, like you’re chasing some kind of impossible perfection.”

You scoffed, though his words hit closer to home than you’d admit. “Maybe that’s because I have to be.”

Jisung was silent for a moment, his gaze drifting back to the ceiling. “You know, you don’t always have to be perfect. It’s okay to mess up sometimes.”

You shook your head, your voice quieter. “Not if your older brother is the Zhong Chenle.” You let out a hollow chuckle.

He turned to you, his usual playfulness replaced with something more serious. “Why not?”

For a moment, you hesitated, the unspoken truth heavy on your lips. But somehow, with Jisung beside you, the boy who seemed to defy every rule you’d built your life around, it felt easier to say. “Because if I’m not perfect… then what am I?”

Jisung didn’t respond right away, his gaze thoughtful. Then he leaned back on his hands, his voice soft but unwavering. “That’s not true.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the unexpected gentleness in his tone.

“You’re more than just a dancer or Chenle’s sister,” he continued, a sincerity in his eyes that made your heart race. “You’re a whole person, y/n. It’s okay to be a little messy, to make mistakes. It doesn’t change who you are.”

His words slipped through the walls you’d spent years fortifying, the weight of your carefully curated life suddenly feeling suffocating. For the first time, you wondered what it would feel like to let go, just a little.

With a wry smile, you raised an eyebrow. “What would you know about being perfect? You strut around like you own the place, and half the time, you can’t even wear your uniform properly.”

Jisung chuckled, the sound light and unguarded. "Exactly! Life’s too short to worry about following every rule. Sometimes you just gotta do what feels right.”

You studied him, intrigued by the ease with which he moved through life, so unburdened by expectations. It was like he existed outside of the pressure that seemed to govern every aspect of your own life. There was something strangely appealing, almost liberating, about his attitude.

“Maybe you should come skate with me sometime,” he said, tilting his head in a way that felt like an invitation to his world.

“Skate?” You echoed, the incredulity evident in your voice. "Chenle’s the athletic one. I’ve never even tried skating.”

He grinned, his excitement infectious. “Then it’s about time! I’ll lend you my helmet and sweats, if that’s what it takes.”

You rolled your eyes, but a reluctant smile tugged at your lips. “How generous of you.”

“Seriously,” he insisted, leaning closer as if to emphasize his point. “Just one time. You might actually enjoy yourself. Skating’s all about balance, just like ballet. And I’d love to see Ms. Perfect let loose.”

Your heart skipped, caught between amusement and curiosity. The thought of stepping out of your rigid world, even for just a moment, sent a thrill through you. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, y/n!” he urged, his voice earnest. “Give it a chance. Who knows, you might surprise yourself.”

You took a deep breath, the possibility of freedom, even fleeting, enticing. With a slight nod, you found yourself agreeing. “Fine. But not today. Maybe next time. And don’t let me fall.”

Jisung’s face lit up with a grin, his energy radiating encouragement. “Deal! And don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Days melted into weeks, and your late-night dance practices transformed into a shared ritual. Every evening, Jisung would wander in, his footsteps echoing in the empty studio. His laughter would fill the space as he leaned casually against the barre, teasing you about your relentless quest for perfection. But his presence grounded you in a way you hadn’t expected. His playful comments, his occasional encouraging words, They chipped away at the tension that had been your constant companion.

Tonight, you were so absorbed in practice that you didn’t notice Jisung until his exaggerated yawn broke your focus. “y/n, if you keep this up, you’re going to turn into some ballet statue,” he teased, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

You shot him a mock glare, though you couldn’t entirely suppress a smile. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want, to be a perfect statue.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Statues don’t get to live. Come on, let’s go skate. I promise, just this once, you won’t regret it.”

You hesitated, glancing around the familiar studio. This space, with its mirrors and soft lighting, felt safe. Leaving it felt like stepping into the unknown. But the idea of an adventure beyond the careful precision of ballet was intriguing. After a moment of internal debate, you nodded, dusting off your leotard. “Alright... let’s do it.”

Jisung’s face lit up with excitement, and he handed you his sweatshirt and sweatpants. The oversized hoodie hung loose around you, and Jisung couldn’t resist teasing you, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks. Seeing you in his clothes seemed to stir something in him, a quiet connection that neither of you dared to name.

The two of you stepped into the warm evening air, the school grounds washed in hues of orange and pink as the sun dipped low. Jisung led you to a nearby park, where skate ramps rose and fell in smooth arcs, casting long shadows in the evening light.

“Alright,” he said, digging a helmet out of his bag and tossing it to you. “First rule of skating: safety first.”

You caught it, eyeing it with a mixture of amusement and skepticism. “You’re serious?”

“Absolutely,” he said, flashing a mock-serious look. “Wouldn’t want anything happening to that pretty head of yours.”

Rolling your eyes but smiling, you fastened the helmet. “Fine. Now what?”

“Now, you stand on it,” he instructed, placing his own board beside yours and demonstrating with an easy balance. “Just relax. It’s not as scary as it looks.”

You took a deep breath and cautiously stepped onto the board. It wobbled beneath you, nothing like the stable, polished studio floor. “Whoa!”

In an instant, Jisung was by your side, his hand steadying your waist. His laughter rang out, his eyes full of warmth. “See? Not so bad.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but his gentle encouragement washed away your nerves. “Easy for you to say.”

With a grin, he nudged you forward. “Just try gliding a bit. I’m right here.”

Your heart raced as you pushed off, the board gliding forward. The rush of wind caught in your hair, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt exhilarated. Jisung kept pace beside you, his cheers filling the air.

“That’s it! You’ve got this!” he shouted, his excitement infectious.

You found a rhythm, shifting your weight, and began to grasp the delicate balance it required. This thrill was nothing like the graceful control of ballet, it was freedom, raw and untamed.

“Now try turning!” Jisung called, demonstrating a smooth arc with ease. “Just lean, like this.”

Emboldened, you attempted to mimic him, shifting your weight to one side. But the board wobbled violently, throwing you off balance. In an instant, Jisung’s arms caught you, steadying you just before you hit the ground.

For a moment, you both froze, and then laughter erupted from both of you, filling the quiet park. You were clinging to him, and he was holding you up, his face just inches from yours.

“Thanks for the save, skater boy,” you said, breathless.

Jisung grinned, ruffling your hair. “Told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”

As the night deepened, the two of you took turns gliding along the path, Jisung’s hand guiding you each time you wobbled. Your laughter echoed under the stars, mingling with the soft sounds of the evening, and for the first time, you felt like you’d let go of the weight you carried.

Eventually, you both collapsed onto the grass under an old oak tree, the night air cool against your skin. Breathless, you glanced over at Jisung, his chest rising and falling as he lay sprawled out beside you, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“Okay, fine,” you admitted, a grin creeping across your face. “That was... actually fun.”

He turned to you, triumphant. “See? I told you. You should let loose more often.”

You laughed, feeling something warm inside, a feeling that had nothing to do with skating. “Maybe you’re right. It’s just... sometimes it’s hard.”

His expression softened, and he propped himself up, looking at you with a sincerity that took you by surprise. “It’s okay not to have everything figured out. You don’t always have to be the perfect dancer or Chenle’s perfect little sister. You’re allowed to just... be.”

His words struck a chord deep within you. For weeks, you’d built something with him that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. Beneath the tree, it felt like the walls around you were beginning to fall, bit by bit.

“Thank you, Jisung,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t expect him to understand the weight of those words, but they felt truer than anything you’d said in a long time.

You turned to face him, cheeks heating when you caught him looking at you with a grin. A comfortable silence fell between you, the world around you quiet, still. Slowly, he began to lean in, and you closed your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest.

When his lips met yours, it wasn’t fireworks or butterflies. It was something softer, more comforting, a feeling you wished would last forever. His touch was gentle, grounding, and you felt safe in a way you hadn’t before.

Pulling back, Jisung chuckled softly, his playful grin returning. “After that, I definitely expect a front-row seat at your next ballet recital.”

You froze, momentarily overwhelmed. You’d never invited anyone to your recitals; your parents were always away, and Chenle had his own responsibilities. The idea of someone wanting to be there for you, just for you, was both thrilling and terrifying.

“I’ll... think about it,” you replied with a shaky laugh. But a part of you knew that Jisung had become that someone, someone who saw beyond the perfect façade.

And yet, a quiet fear lingered. He was Chenle’s best friend, the carefree guy who never followed rules, while you were the perfect poster child. Your worlds were never meant to collide. Whatever was happening in these stolen nights wasn’t supposed to be anything more than friendship.

As you looked up at the star-strewn sky, a quiet ache settled in your chest. You didn’t know what would come next, and that uncertainty scared you. It was rare for you not to have a plan, and yet, with Jisung beside you, maybe you didn’t need one. A new world was unfolding, one where you could be the dancer but also explore a life beyond the stage. And as you glanced at Jisung, you wondered whether this was the beginning of something new — or the last taste of freedom you’d allow yourself to have.

[httpiastri]

paul aron x reader

paul looks exhausted when he finally steps into the hitech garage after the race. he doesn't look as upset as you had assumed, considering the race he's just had, but his tensed shoulders and furrowed eyebrows can be spotted from miles away. you stay in the background when he shakes hands with his engineers and other staff members, stopping every once in a while for some quick chats about the race.

soon, his eyes land on you, though they don't light up in the way you had hoped. but the second your arms drape around his shoulders, you can literally feel the stress and pressure flow out of him. a huff of air passes his lips as his hands squeeze your sides before slipping around to encircle the small of your back, and you nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck as a response.

paul stays quiet, which isn't uncommon for him. usually when he's upset, he wants to be left alone for a bit, to sort our his thoughts and reflect on his race. and yet, this silence simply doesn't feel right.

something inside of you just snaps.

you can't tell if it's the memory of the race replaying in your head, the way you assume he's being much harder in himself than he lets you see, or the fact that he seems to come undone in your arms, but something does it for you. it's because of a mixture of all three, probably, and it has you crying in no time.

paul doesn't register the tears on his skin at first, but his heart breaks in his chest when he hears your soft sniffles from right below his ear. "hey," he says, pulling apart slightly. his big, soft hands practically engulf your face when he cups it, gentle eyes searching your teary ones. "it's okay, you know. it's not that bad."

"i know, i know..." you mumble, reaching up to wipe away a few tears from your cheek, despite how his thumbs are already working on it. "it's just..."

one of his hands moves to cradle the back of your neck, guiding you forward to his skin again. "i even extended the lead in the championship. it's alright, really."

the steady rhythm of his heartbeat works wonders at calming you down, just as always, and the warmth of his hug slowly but surely replaces the anxiety in you. a shaky breath passes through your lips, and you nod against him before leaning back again to look at him.

the bright blue color of his pretty eyes pops out even more than usual, though there's a sliver of guilt in them. he hates being the one causing your tears, he hates seeing the stains of mascara along your cheeks. he hates the thought of you hurting enough to shed tears like this.

but the words you then say have his eyes widening. he expects something heart-wrenching, something crushing, but it's far from it. "i'm just so proud of you," you start, running a hand through his messy fringe. "you're taking this like a champ. a year or two ago, you would've sulked and blamed everyone else, but..." for the first time in over an hour, a slight smile pulls on the corners of your mouth. "you've matured, grown up. and i'm so proud."

paul is speechless; his jaw drops a little, prompting you to push it up with a finger and a soft laugh, and he just won't stop blinking. "wow," he finally says. "you're going to make me cry now..."

you instantly shake your head, arms draping around his neck. "don't." you press a quick kiss to his lips, before resting your forehead against his. "let's just... get out of here and relax, do something that doesn't include crying. does that sound okay?"

"there's nothing i'd rather do."

when you step out of his hold to go get your purse, he can't help but pull you back in and lock his lips with yours again. despite just having raced for an hour, paul's blood rushes through his body from the way you kiss him back (in an oh-so-familiar yet exciting way), like he's never been more eager in his life.

maybe he can think of something he'd rather do, after all.

[kitkat13001]

i think denki does like to be babied by his s/o, but i think what he loves more than that is to be trusted. he is so used to being labeled as the stupid one who can’t do anything, and then you come along and you have full faith in him for everything. it changes his life.

can you keep a secret? you’d asked him mischievously one night, the night you confessed to him. to his grave, he’d replied (and meant it).

ask him for things. he will give you the world on a silver platter. he LIVES to be your knight in shining armor. he is going to tie your shoes!! he is going to do your eyeliner!!! he is going to hold your bag and give you honest and caring advice about that outfit (you look GREAT but maybe you will look even greater with that specific pair of shoes instead)!! he likes being someone you can rely on. he wants you to be able to trust him with things, and once you earn his devotion there is no going back, he is yours now and forever.

[s6rine]

a sweet disaster

(megumi bday special!) | main masterlist

pairing : megumi fushiguro x gn!reader synopsis : it's megumi's birthday! what's the best way to celebrate it despite megumi obviously not wanting a party? to entrust nobara and yuji with his cake! tags : fluff i think i have no idea on how to tag stuff, drabble, pre-established relationship AHHHHHHHHHH, writing these tags earlier on but like uhm uhm uhm NOT PROOFREAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OFFICER PUT THE GUN DOWN!!!!!! (update: babi lei proofread it what would i do w/o my wonderful beautiful gorgeous queen 💔), i cant write kageyama for SHIZ even tho theyre the same holy cannoli, lower case work intended perchance, yes yuji got beat, its a little lazy gn its 4 am zzzzzzzz word count : 0.4k a/n : happy birthday tpo MY baby 😭💔 i was gonna write for tobio but even tho theyre like the exact same i just cannot but trust one day i'll make up for it...........perchance❓

a/n pt.2 : my vision was something very similar happened last year… like im imagining last year they tried to smash his face into the cake but someone moved it at the cake at the wrong time at his face hit the table instead ykwim

DECEMBER 14, 1:32 PM megumi doesn’t like birthdays.

not because he hates fun or celebrations, but because, in his mind, having a whole day dedicated to yourself feels unnecessary when there are millions of people born on the same day. what’s so special about it? it’s just another date on the calendar. he doesn’t get the hype, and frankly, he doesn’t care to.

and he’s not shy about saying so—even to you.

"you what?" you exclaim, coming to an abrupt halt. "who doesn’t like birthdays? it’s literally the day you were born! it’s supposed to be special!"

megumi lets out a long, tired sigh, rolling his eyes in your direction.

"it’s not special. at least not to me," he mutters. "and celebrating getting one year closer to dying? seems dumb. plus, they never go right. for me at least." his hands bury themselves in his pockets as he keeps walking, not sparing you a glance.

you quickly catch up, narrowing your eyes at him. "that’s the most depressing thing i’ve ever heard! birthdays are about celebrating life, not… getting morbid. you’re alive, you made it another year, and you deserve cake! lots of cake!"

he shrugs, barely reacting. "cake’s too sweet."

you scowl, a spark of playful annoyance lighting in your chest. you shove his shoulder lightly, earning a grunt as he stumbles a step.

"you’re so lame!"

"good to know." he mutters with a sigh.

DECEMBER 22, 4:19 PM "you’re officially banned from picking restaurants." megumi’s voice is flat as he unlocks his dorm room, both of you slipping off your shoes. "that tapioca was awful. undercooked."

you’ve been oddly quiet since leaving, lips pressed tight like you’re holding back laughter. megumi notices immediately, his eyes narrowing as he stops in the entryway.

"what’s so funny?" he deadpans, his gaze flicking to your face and then over his shoulder. it doesn’t take him long to put the pieces together.

he sighs, already defeated. "seriously?" he asks, just as nobara shoves yuji too hard in the kitchen.

it all happens in slow motion—the cake colliding with megumi’s face, the frosting sticking for a moment before it slides down in one messy lump. the room falls silent except for yuji’s grunt as nobara decks him on the back of the head.

megumi stands frozen, wiping frosting from his cheek with a scowl.

“…we should've listened to gojo-sensei when he said cupcakes were… the better option…” nobara mutters, inching backward cautiously.

maybe he was right—birthday parties never seem to work out for megumi. seems like a repeat of last year.

p.s. : a second birthday date made up for it.

© 𝐒𝟔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 | please do not edit, translate or plagiarize my work ! all banners belong to me, please give credits if used !

[hyunestrella]

★༉‧₊˚✧ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 . HAN JISUNG .

★༉ SUMMARY. Growing up you were never shown exactly what the correct example of unconditional love, leading you to believe it wasn’t real, and simply did not exist. So why was this kinda nerdy guy making you feel things you never knew existed?

★༉ PAIRING. Han Jisung x AFAB! Reader.

★༉ GENRE. SMAU, idiots to lovers, angst, fluff.

★༉ WARNINGS. non idol! au, toxic relationships, major angst, reader has a face claim (soyeon of gidle), written elements, she/they pronouns, “kys/die” comments as friendly banter, gaslighting, manipulation, established relationships, cheating, break ups, parties, alcohol consumption (everyone is of legal age), swearing.

— posting status. completed.

— started. 03/10/23 (DD/MM/YY)

— ended. 23/11/23 (DD/MM/YY)

— taglist. closed.

— notices.

this is NOT an accurate representation of stray kids or any of their members. this is NOT intended to harm them, or their image. this is a work of fiction

the plot and any original characters belong to me, @hyunestrella.

you do not have any permission to repost my work on this platform, or any other platforms.

you do not have any permission to translate my work.

do NOT spam like each chapter - you'll be blocked and reported.

PROFILES.

4liferz !! 3racha !! the boys !!

TEASERS.

i — the worst ii — she’ll be back iii — your number?

CHAPTERS.

i — sucking faces

ii — hungover

iii — friends

iv — back 2 black

v — shut the fuck up

vi — proud parent moment

vii — no response

viii — all i have

ix — blocked

x — actively bamboozled

xi — quit your bitching

xii — proud of you

xiii — damaged goods

epilogue

EXTRAS.

i — memes ii — unseen bits

© @hyunestrella 2023.

[jello-library]

I DID IT

I DID IT

ITS SLOPPY BUT I DID IT 💃🏾

Inspired by @triannel minific about bill braiding the reader’s hair.

[elbimboo]

blue jacket buds

[yazis]

I’M NOT INTERESTED!!

SUMMARY: in which 2nd-year y/n l/n one day turns up at their high school and falls head over heels with a certain 3rd-year, one who has a strict ‘no-dating’ policy.

PAIRING: itoshi sae x fem!reader

GENRE: social media au, high school au, crack fluff and angst most likely

WARNINGS: swearing, inappropriate jokes, this is my first smau series so it’s probably gonna go wrong somewhere… i’m really disorganized sooo

START: 11/04/23

END: -

taglist is open!

PROFILES!! - y/n’s minions | prodigies

CHAPTERS!!

一 - new term new me

二 - love at first sight (written)

三 - somethings not right

四 - sibling tingz (half written)

五 - GET ME THAT NUMBER

六 - lionel ronaldo

七 - hippo

八 - take a shot (written)

九 - grandma

十 - that thing

十一 - basic bitch

十二 - wtaf

十三 - rise and shine

十四 -

十五 -

十六 -

十七 -

十八 -

十九 -

二十 -

all right reserved © please do not copy any of my works!

[saeun]

BOYFRIEND'S BSF!CHOSO ⟡ highly suggestive.

+ love, ‘su: cheating (poor bf), reader having zero shame, choso trying to be a loyal friend | not beta

boyfriend’s bestfriend with choso except it's you who's pushing the boundary.

your boyfriend's spent; the glow he once had now dull. whatever you were initially attracted to became nothing but a past memory. you grew tired of him— bored. in need of something that'll make your heart drum against your chest. something that'll risk your reputation among peers.

choso just happened to be in your line of sight. you know how it goes: when something's always within view, you can't help but actively search for it. whenever your boyfriend has his “boys only” nights with friends, you secretly scanned the room for choso.

his calm demeanor intrigued you— unlike your boyfriend's outgoing personality, choso's introverted one became your new liking.

choso always kept to himself. he didn't ignore your presence, but he never initiated conversations outside of small talk. if you were to go in for a casual hug, he'd place his hands on your shoulder blades, making sure that his hand doesn't go lower out of respect.

that's what you liked about choso. he kept to himself, but it got old. you needed more contact with him— more physical contact. you wanted choso to give into the sinful voice in the back of his mind. his self control needed to break.

your “accidental” nudes didn't get to him.

your lingering touches didn't bring a faint blush on his cheeks.

the way you'd shamelessly scan his body when your boyfriend wasn't looking didn't make him get goosebumps.

choso knew where he stood. he knew to not entertain your games. he always responded with a simple “it's okay,” to your exposed photos, he slightly moved away when your hand stayed on him for too long — he didn't want to be a reason in the eventual break-up with your boyfriend.

he believed that he had a strong resolve; he swallowed the temptations in respect for his friend, yet why is it that he's clenching his jaw so tightly that it hurts?

why is he allowing you to grind down on him, leaving a trail of kisses from his jawline to his collarbone?

why is his head thrown back on the sofa, eyes squeezed shut as he's trying to fight back a groan?

why did he allow you to place his hands on your waist?

choso's a mess. he can feel himself growing by the second— hips moving upwards in desperate attempts for closure. his mind's divided into two: one side degrading him for being a terrible friend and the other trying to convince him to wipe the cocky smirk off your face and pin you under him.

the worst of it all is that you're both out in the open— shamelessly making out in the living room while your boyfriend's busying himself with a shower. he can walk out any moment, things can get frightening easily, but the thought of being caught participating in adultery sends a heat that goes straight down.

[augustinapril]

he's looking at me btw. just so you guys know.

[shewki]

me staring at the "no" message from 'suki, not knowing what to feel bc he always says yes and has been spoiling me since forever 😔

[myrruwrites]

I really wanna see some Ellie x Trans reader fics. Same for Caitlyn, Jinx & Vi. Hi guys, I’m a transfem lesbian, it’s really hard to find fics with trans!reader 😔 if anyone would make one I’d be eternally grateful

I would write it myself but I’m not very confident