#if it doesn't make the cut this Friday there is always next Friday

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

I’m on day three of this antibiotic and i feel worse pysically today than when I started it 😭 (mentally I’m feeling a little better though 🤷‍♀️). At least the bloody sneezes seem to have stopped but I think that has more with me taking a break form the nasal spray.

[earlysunshines]

fall is for falling (for you)

newjeans (unnie line) x fem!reader ; fluff!!!!!

synopsis: separate autumn themed oneshots with newjeans unnie line bc i saw a pile of leaves the other day ; 2k special!!

warnings: puuuurre fluff ; making out kinda ; nothing else that i can think of ; anything i didn't mention ; sorry to the readers that don’t have fall / experience a diff season atm it’s basically autumn for me :-P or maybe i’m getting ahead of myself it’s still like 20+ degrees

a/n: THANKYOU FOR 2K WHATTTTTT THE HELL!!! idk how to structure this and it's different from the usual looong fics LOL idk smth different for this crazy milestone THANK YOU!!! i can't believe this is real... i can’t express my gratitude enough… two gazilliontrillionbillion subscribers... in just over a year... i can't believe this... THANK YOU! enjoy :-D

ALSO new user whatsUP! :-p

kim minji - pumpkin carving

minji hears the door creak open but doesn't bother to look up; she already knows it's you. she braces herself, expecting you to burst in dramatically like always: groaning loudly, tossing your bag onto the rug, and collapsing onto the couch next to her with a tired sigh. but instead of the usual commotion, she notices the absence of a familiar thump on the couch, no tired exhale signaling your arrival. 

she peeks up, only to find you grinning with a large pumpkin cradled in your arms, your eyes bright with excitement. 

“what’s this?” minji asks, eyebrows furrowing as she pulls off her headphones, glancing away from her laptop.

“it’s a sweet potato, what do you think?” you tease, your tone playful as you reach over and close her laptop without hesitation, sliding it to the side. “c’mon, it’s friday. pleeease help me carve it?”

she pauses, eyes narrowing slightly as she meets your gaze. you tug gently on her wrist, the warmth of your hand lingering on her skin, and she can feel the heat rising to her cheeks. her resolve wavers, and she sighs, tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek. 

“fine.”

minji doesn't regret agreeing, not when your face lights up like that. the way you smile makes her chest feel warm, a flutter she wishes she could escape.

you both set up at the kitchen counter, and she watches as you rummage around, grabbing all three knives you both own. 

(there used to be just one—a medium-sized knife—but you insisted on buying more. what if there were small things to cut? or bigger things? the two of you have argued over countless trivial things you own, but somehow, she always ends up letting you have your way. maybe it’s because she secretly adores you, not as subtly as she thinks.)

you put on a playlist that jumps all over the place; first, it’s sza, and you hum along, lost in the melody. then a city pop track comes on, the abrupt change making minji raise her brows. your taste in music is unpredictable, like a rollercoaster, every song a surprise. but minji never complains. she loves how you sway to the music, singing softly as you sketch a face on the pumpkin with intense concentration. 

and for a moment, she forgets about the essay she has to write, the deadline, the weekend. all she sees is you, the soft light catching the curve of your smile, and it's enough.

–

an hour passes, but it feels like only seconds.

you and minji have been carving away, scooping out the pumpkin’s insides as she grins at the way you squirm with every handful. when she slips out a soft “cute,” your face heats up instantly, but neither of you says anything more. you assume she’s talking about the face you’ve drawn on the pumpkin, but all of you hopes it’s you she’s referring to.

you sneak glances at her from time to time, drawn to the way her hair falls loose from its tie, her glasses slipping down her nose, and her tongue peeking out in concentration. you reach over to push her glasses back up, and her hand slips—almost cutting herself. you laugh, but your heart is racing inside your chest.

the kitchen table is a mess. pumpkin guts and seeds are scattered everywhere, a few strands of orange pulp hanging off the edge. you’re both standing side by side, spoons in hand, breathless from laughter.

“this is the worst pumpkin carving attempt i’ve ever seen,” minji declares, wiping her forehead with the back of her wrist, unknowingly smearing pumpkin across her skin.

“you mean the best,” you counter with a grin, scooping out another stringy handful. “it’s a masterpiece in the making.”

she rolls her eyes, but you catch the smile she tries to hide. “if by ‘masterpiece,’ you mean ‘disaster,’ then yeah, sure.”

you nudge her shoulder, still laughing. “hey, it’s not that bad! we just need to… appreciate its unique aspects.”

minji laughs like a dork, you love it—bright and loud—making your chest warm. “fine, but if this pumpkin ends up looking like a troll, i’m blaming you.”

“i’ll take full responsibility,” you joke. “besides, it’s already got your eyebrows.”

she gasps in mock offense. “excuse me? my eyebrows are perfect, thank you very much.”

you snicker and turn back to the pumpkin, but your eyes keep drifting to her. she’s leaning in close, focus intent, tongue poking out slightly as she carves a crooked smile.

it’s hard to concentrate with her so close. something about this feels different—more intimate, more charged.

(and it doesn’t help that you’ve found her attractive ever since you barged into the apartment while she was moving boxes, almost knocking over her stuff.

it also doesn’t help that your crush on her has only grown. english nerds were always a little dorky and cute to you.

or maybe it’s just minji. minji, who you used to bicker with about her loud music or her sudden screams in the middle of the night over some game.

it definitely doesn’t help that you like minji a lot.)

she catches you looking at her, and for a moment, the room goes still. her eyes soften, and your cheeks heat up again. she quirks an eyebrow. “what are you staring at?”

you shrug with a grin. “nothing, sorry. you just look stupid, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes, but the blush on her cheeks deepens, and your heart skips a beat.

minji finishes the smile on the pumpkin and steps back, hands on her hips, looking at it with a satisfied grin. “done! would you look at that…”

the pumpkin is… well, it has a crooked smile, one eye bigger than the other, and a nose that could pass for a potato. it’s perfect.

“it’s amazing,” you say, and you mean it. not because of the pumpkin, but because of how proud she looks, her eyes bright, cheeks flushed from laughing.

she turns to you, and for a moment, you’re just smiling at each other. then, almost without thinking, you reach up and brush a stray pumpkin seed from her hair.

she blinks, startled, her breath catching. “uh… thanks,” she mumbles, her cheeks darkening to a deeper pink.

“of course,” you say softly, your hand lingering in her hair a moment too long.

the air thickens, something unsaid hanging between you. you’re about to speak, but then minji’s hand is on your jawline, and her lips are on yours.

it’s short, barely a few seconds, but in the last half-second, you start to process it and try to kiss back. but before you can properly reciprocate, minji pulls away, her hand flying back like you’re something hot to the touch.

“i’m so sorry,” she stammers, looking mortified. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. it’s just you looked really good, and i couldn’t help myself, and i’m so sorry, i should’ve—”

you lean in again, cutting her off, capturing the rest of her mumbled apology with your lips. she relaxes into the kiss, her head angling slightly to make it more comfortable, her hand resting on your waist. she pushes you gently against the counter, her body close to yours.

when the need for air becomes too strong, you both pull away, breathless. you look at her—her eyes still half-lidded, cheeks flushed deep red, and you can’t help but giggle, hiding your face in your shoulder to mask how flustered you are.

you just kissed your roommate, and she kissed you back, pulled you closer by the waist, tasted like orange flavored lip balm, smelled like lavender and something floral.

“holy shit,” you mumble, half-laughing. “we just kissed.”

“y-yeah.” minji’s voice is small, almost disbelieving. “did you like it?”

“minji, you’re so cute.” you pull back to look at her, smiling as you smooth her hair. her glasses slide down again, so you take them off and set them on the counter beside you. you twirl a strand of her hair around your finger, teasing her, and she looks like she might melt on the spot.

her hand slides to the back of your neck, making you shiver, and she leans back just enough to murmur, “i’m assuming you did.”

“good observation,” you say, rolling your eyes.

she laughs, her fingers pressing slightly into your skin, and your knees feel a little weak. “so, do we keep carving pumpkins or…?”

you grin, pulling her closer. “we could… make out a little more on the couch instead? if our lips go numb, then… movie?”

minji’s smile is bright, her eyes soft. “i like that idea.”

hanni pham - a hoodie for the seasons changing

hanni walks along the inside of the sidewalk because you decided when you were eleven that it was better for her to be farther from the street, less at risk. even now, a few weeks into your last year of high school, you still keep her on the safe side. it's just one of those things you do without thinking. it’s an unspoken rule between the two of you, so hanni hadn’t thought twice about the way you pulled her by the arm to push her on her designated side.

(she did think twice about how firm your grip was, and how you had your hand on her. your bigger, stronger, nicer hands.)

with the weekend ahead, you both agree there’s no better plan than crashing at your place after school on a friday. your hands brush against each other as you walk, but neither of you say anything. you never do; never have, not about the little things, like the shared smiles, the secret glances, the quiet laughter. instead, you let yourselves enjoy the moments, bask in the warmth that fills your chest each time.

you make it to your house, then up the stairs until you two are in your room. you immediately find hanni's sweatpants in your closet — the ones she left behind last time because she’s at your house more than half the week. you'd washed them with your clothes on laundry day, because it would’ve been rude not to. you toss them to her along with one of your t-shirts. “go change,” you say, nudging her toward the bathroom with a grin.

"hey!" hanni groans, swatting your hand away as you poke her side, making her jump. “you’re so—”

“just hurry up and change so we can relax on my bed. you know how i feel about outside clothes…”

she rolls her eyes but can't help the smile that tugs at her lips, watching the little crease form between your brows from the annoyance. it’s cute, she thinks, even if she’d never admit it. she closes the bathroom door, locks it, and starts changing. her sweatpants fit the same — they’re hers, after all — but your t-shirt hangs loose and oversized on her. it’s soft against her skin, and smells like your detergent and jasmine and peaches, like you. her heart races a little. 

she catches her reflection in the mirror and notices how the shirt falls around a fingers length past her waistline. it’s not like she’s drowning in the shirt, but it’s definitely a size or two larger; you’re taller and more muscular, which happens to be her type — a fact she’s noticed a little too much for her liking. she feels a flutter in her chest, a mix of nerves and something she doesn’t want to name, then quickly shakes it off, rolling her shoulders like she can physically push the feeling away.

she takes a breath, tugs at the hem of the shirt once more, and steps out of the bathroom, trying not to think about how much she likes wearing something that belongs to you.

when she steps out a few minutes later, she finds you on your bed with your legs spread out and hands up to hold your phone. you’re in plaid pajama joggers and your dad’s old university hoodie, you look comfy and snug, you look adorable.

she jumps on your bed, landing beside you with a bounce. the mattress shifts, and your phone slips from your grip, smacking you square in the cheek. hanni laughs at the sight.

“hey!” you groan, shooting her a playful glare.

“loser.” she mutters, reaching over to mess up your hair. “scoot over, you’re hogging the whole bed.”

“whatever.” you roll over, patting the space beside you. hanni shuffles closer, pulling the blanket over both of you. your arm naturally slips under her neck, and she nestles in, the top of her head resting against your chest.

“comfy?” she can hear the smirk in your voice.

“yeah.” she replies softly, though her heart races. 

neither of you ever comments on the way you always end up like this, close and tangled up in each other. the term is ‘cuddling,’ but if either of you were to call it that, you’d probably cringe, cheeks flushing with an embarrassed heat neither of you could ignore.

hanni grabs her phone, opening instagram. she scrolls, her breathing evening out as she likes every animal video and taps through every story. you watch her through half-closed eyes, feeling a calm settle over you. your other arm drapes over her waist, your breathing slowing, growing heavier. 

she doesn’t notice at first, too engrossed in her phone. but when she switches to the camera, she catches a glimpse of your nose nuzzled in her hair, your eyes fully closed. she zooms in to confirm the soft snores she hears, then grins, quietly snapping a picture. she shifts, turning the camera on herself to capture both of you together.

for a while, she stays like that, tucked in your arms, watching an episode of a crime show she’s gotten hooked on. her head tilts at an odd angle, but she doesn’t mind. you’re asleep and warm beside her, and that’s all that matters.

three episodes later, she checks the time and realizes over an hour and a half has passed. somewhere in that time, you’ve pulled her closer in your sleep, murmuring something she can’t quite make out. her heart stutters each time your hand shifts against her waist, your fingers brushing against the fabric, the only layer away from her skin.

her stomach growls softly, breaking the quiet, and she decides it’s time to wake you up. turning over, your faces are inches apart, and she stops, taking a moment to just look at you. then, she leans back slightly and snaps another picture before reaching to poke your cheek. when you don’t stir, she pinches instead, shaking your shoulder lightly.

you groan, turning away from her. “five minutes… please.”

“c’mon, sleeping beauty, i’m hungry…” she sighs, her tone teasing.

“five minutes.” you mumble, voice thick with sleep. “just five more…”

hanni sighs dramatically, then tries a new tactic. “i’ll pay if you get up right now. anything you want from the convenience store.”

you crack one eye open, barely, squinting at her. you roll over, sprawling into a starfish position. “fine… but five minutes, okay?” you plead, clinging to her leg.

hanni laughs softly at the warmth radiating from you, her resolve weakening. she runs her fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp gently until five minutes turns into ten, then fifteen. finally, she nudges you awake, and the two of you head out, still in your cozy clothes.

as you walk to the convenience store, staying close, hanni steps on a leaf that crunches underfoot. “wow, it’s already fall,” she murmurs.

“well, obviously.” you tease, only to get a kick to the back of your knee. you nearly stumble, catching yourself with a laugh. “what the hell?”

“you suck.” she grumbles, bumping her shoulder against yours.

“you suck more,” you retort, nudging her back.

“whatever.”

you smile at her, and she catches it from the corner of her eye. she nudges you away again, but you keep staring, unable to help yourself. “you’ve gotten really pretty, you know?”

“are you saying i used to be ugly?” she laughs lightheartedly, expecting a playful response, but instead, you surprise her.

“you’ve never been ugly.” your voice is softer, more sincere. “you’ve always been pretty.” then your voice gets quieter, “gorgeous.”

there’s a pause, both of you walking in silence for a moment. you kick a small rock forward, and it lands by hanni’s feet. she kicks it ahead, breaking the quiet. “thanks.” she says, feeling your eyes on her but not daring to meet your gaze. “you’ve always been cute too, ever since we met in fifth grade.”

“oh.” you whisper, looking up just in time to see the store ahead — a small savior from the tension that’s thickened the air between you. you clear your throat, trying to shift the mood. “i can’t wait for my free dinner.”

hanni pushes you playfully, and you pout, making her wish she could capture the expression and keep it forever.

you two head inside, and hanni visibly relaxes as the warm air greets you. she hadn’t mentioned how chilly it was outside, even though she could’ve easily put on her jacket. part of her had hoped, maybe, you’d notice and offer her your hoodie instead.

both of you wander around the store for about ten minutes, emerging with a pork bun and a sweet tea in your hands, while hanni clutches a sweet pastry and a can of soda. instead of turning back towards your house, you keep moving forward, hanni trailing just behind you. 

the route is familiar. it’s the path down to the little stream where you and hanni have shared countless secrets, talking until the sun dips below the horizon. tonight feels like one of those nights, perfect for sitting on the favorite bench you two have claimed as your own, watching the sunset as it starts a little earlier than usual.

you kick a small rock into the stream, watching the ripples spread out, and catch hanni shivering slightly in the corner of your eye as she takes a small bite of the sweet potato-filled bun. 

“can you hold my stuff?” you ask, extending your hands. hanni hums in confusion but takes your things without hesitation.

she watches as you stand up, pulling off your hoodie. her eyes linger on the way your long-sleeve shirt lifts slightly, revealing a hint of your torso, the lean muscle just barely visible in the fading light. she catches herself staring and quickly looks away, cheeks warming. you fix your hair casually before draping the hoodie over her lap.

she furrows her brows, looking up at you. “what?”

you glance down at the hoodie, then back at her. “put it on.”

“why?”

“because you’re cold.” you shrug, sitting back down beside her and taking the food and drinks out of her hands to set them down. you grab the hoodie again and pull it over her shoulders, tugging it down until her head pops through and the hood falls over her eyes. “better?”

she mumbles, “you didn’t have to.”

“it’s getting colder. i’m fine like this.” you reply, pinching the fabric of your shirt before reaching out to adjust the hood over her forehead, smoothing down her hair. a small smirk tugs at your lips as you add quietly, “besides, i know you wanted my hoodie anyway.”

she nearly chokes on air, her cheeks burning. “i– i didn’t! you’re so–”

“you look better in it anyway,” you chuckle, turning back to face the stream. you sneak a bite of her pastry, the playful smile on your lips growing.

hanni huffs but doesn't protest, her fingers curling into the sleeves of your hoodie, a smile sneaking onto her face despite herself.

she looks at you fondly, biting the inside of her cheek, before crossing her arms and turning her gaze to match yours. your hoodie is thick with your scent, and hanni feels like she could drown in it. without realizing it, she scoots closer, and you instinctively wrap an arm around her.

hanni can’t hold back anymore.

“y/n.”

“yes?”

“the fall dance is really early this year.”

“yeah, it’s next week. i feel like i’ll breathe and it’ll already time to get ready for it.”

“do you have a date?”

you scoff, shaking your head with a small laugh. “you know i’ve never managed to get a date for that. we always end up going with yunjin’s group anyway. are you teasing me for not having one?”

hanni chuckles, leaning even closer against your side. “maybe a little.”

“do you have a date?” you ask, glancing down at her.

“no.”

“you know, i overheard jay’s friends talking. sounds like he might ask you out.”

hanni cringes at the thought of jay, the guy from her statistics class who never stops staring at her. his crush on her is painfully obvious, and he always finds an excuse to talk to her or get her attention.

but the truth is, hanni's always wished you’d be the one to ask her to the fall dance, but you’re oblivious, always a little clueless.

“y/n,” she tries again, voice soft.

“yes?” 

“we should go to the fall dance together.”

“yeah, i was thinking that too. should we go with yunjin’s friend group again? jimin also asked if we wanted to–”

“no,” hanni interrupts, pulling away from your arm, and looks at you seriously. you tilt your head, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. she meets your gaze, but quickly looks away, suddenly feeling too exposed. “i was wondering if… well— ugh.” she pinches the bridge of her nose, then takes a deep breath and blurts out, “we should go together, alone, just us. we don't have to actually go to the dance, I know we just went out in the city last time and crashed at yunjins place and we can just do whatever you want to! i don't really care i just want to be with you becauseilikeyoualotand--"

hanni pauses before finally getting to her point. "i want you to be my date, y/n."

your lips curl into a sly smile, and then you laugh.

hanni's face is a mix of confusion and anxiety, her mind racing with uncertainty at your reaction. 

“took you long enough,” you say, grinning wider now. “i was going to ask you out, but i wanted to see if you had the guts to do it first.”

“asshole!” hanni groans, shoving you away. she turns her face to hide the deep flush coloring her cheeks. “i take it back.”

“no, you don’t.” your arm tightens around her, pulling her closer again, and you use your free hand to gently tilt her face towards you, fingers brushing her chin. “i’m not going to let you.”

her breath catches when your eyes flicker down to her lips, then back up to her eyes.

“w-was that a yes?” hanni asks, voice small, almost uncertain.

your fingers drop from her chin, and you lean back slightly against the bench. both of you are moving closer, almost unconsciously, drawn together by the tension. she feels her eyelids flutter, and you tilt your head, leaning in just a bit more.

“if i kiss you, would you take that as a yes?” you whisper, eyes focused on her lips.

hanni’s voice is barely audible as she murmurs, “mhm,” giving you the green light. you lean in and press a soft, quick kiss to her lips. she melts into it, feeling every nerve ending come alive in those few seconds. you pull back just enough to take in her flushed cheeks, the warmth of the autumn sun casting a soft glow over her face.

“i’d love to be your date, hanni,” you say softly, smiling as her face breaks into a relieved grin.

danielle marsh - apple picking

danielle stands beside you, her eyes bright with excitement as she takes in the familiar sight. she's wearing a pair of denim overalls over an old, oversized sweater that you know belongs to her dad, her wavy brown hair clipped up to keep loose strands from framing her face.

the apple orchard stretches out before you, rows of trees dotted with red and green apples glistening under the golden afternoon sun. you and danielle have been coming here every fall since you were kids, but this is the first time you've managed to make it back since starting college. the sunlight feels warm against your skin, but it definitely makes her shine brighter, even in the cool crispness of fall.

she grabs your hand, slipping her fingers into yours without a second thought, and pulls you down the path toward the orchard's entrance. you grin at how eager she is; being here together again fills you with a deep, comforting warmth. being around danielle always does that to you, really. 

a friendly man greets you at the entrance, handing you a basket and asking if you have any questions. you both shake your heads, and he gives you a cheerful smile, wishing you good luck.

it’s peak apple-picking season, so naturally the orchard is filled with families, couples, and groups of friends, all scouring the trees for the best apples. there’s a little worry in the back of your mind that the good ones might already be gone.

“so many people,” danielle breathes, a little awestruck. “i wonder if we’re too late.”

“we’ll be fine,” you assure her, squeezing her hand lightly. “when have we ever gotten a bad apple? even the green ones end up sweet.”

“maybe that's because you always pick them~” she teases, giving you that playful smile that always makes your stomach twist and turn. you hate it a little, but you love it more—especially the way it makes your cheeks heat up.

“you're so— ugh.” you look away, trying to hide the way she flusters you, but you tug her hand, pulling her along.

you wander a bit farther down the path, away from the crowd. danielle’s eyes light up when she spots a tree heavy with apples. she lets go of your hand, darting forward, studying the branches.

“this one’s perfect,” she says, reaching up on tiptoe, fingers just brushing a particularly shiny apple.

you watch her struggle for a moment, biting back a laugh. “need some help?”

she glances back, trying to look serious but failing. instead, she gives you her signature pout, the one that makes you melt everytime you see it. “i guess i could use a little help,” she admits.

you move closer, setting the basket down. “hop on,” you offer, patting your back.

she giggles before jumping onto your back, her laughter bright in your ear as you steady her by holding her legs. she reaches up, plucking the apple from the branch with a satisfied hum. "got it!"

“nice catch,” you say, lowering her back to the ground.

she turns to you, cheeks flushed from the thrill of the simple task, still holding the apple. “i’ve got my own personal apple-picking assistant,” she teases, nudging you.

“not free of charge,” you joke, smiling at her. 

her happiness is contagious, and you're more than willing to let it take over the afternoon. 

(and really, your whole life—but maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself.)

“but always happy to help, miss marsh.”

you and danielle spend the next couple of hours wandering through the orchard, picking apples, laughing, and reminiscing about the times you’d done this as kids. you remember danielle’s dad lifting you up on his shoulders when you were too small to reach, and the time she accidentally knocked one of your teeth out with a misplaced apple throw. her laughter fills the space between you, and more than once, she climbs onto your back again, her hands on your shoulders, her face so close you can feel her breath on your neck. it’s nerve-racking, but much more heart warming.

as the sun starts to dip, the air cools, and you catch danielle stifling a yawn. “getting sleepy?” you ask, watching her rub her eyes the same way she used to when you were younger.

"maybe a little," she admits, yawning again, trying to blink away the sleepiness settling in her eyes. "but i don't want to leave yet. this is too much fun."

 really, she doesn’t want the day to end at all. spending time with you like this feels like the good old days, back when things were simple and easy, and danielle would do just about anything to stretch it out a little longer. she's always been whipped for anything involving you, for every shared laugh, for every time your shoulder accidentally brushes hers. she knows she would spend every minute she has left doing nothing but this, being with you, if she could. it's been harder lately—with college and schedules pulling you both in different directions, with classes, work, and life taking up so much of the time she used to have with you. the thought makes her chest ache a little, makes her cling to this moment even more tightly, like she could hold on to it forever. 

“it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she adds softly, her voice barely above a whisper, almost like she’s talking to herself more than you. “since we just got to be like this.”

“yeah,” you agree, a touch of something bittersweet in your smile. “way too long.”

her fingers brush yours, almost like she’s afraid you’ll slip away if she doesn't hold on, her hand still warm from holding yours all afternoon. “i wish we could do this every day,” she sighs, her tone playful and smile warm, but it makes her heart ache a bit.

you feel your heart squeeze at that, at the honesty in her voice, and you reach out, squeezing her hand in return. “me too,”

for a moment, you both stand there, just holding hands, feeling the weight of all the missed moments and the sweetness of the one you’re in now. the orchard is quieter now, the sun sinking lower, casting everything in a soft, golden light. you think it makes her look even more beautiful, like she belongs in a place like this, caught between the sunset and the apples and the way her smile seems to light up her whole face.

“anyway,” you clear your throat, breaking yourself from your trance. “we’ve been here for hours, dani,” you chuckle. “it’s okay if you’re tired.”

“okay, maybe i am tired,” she says, shoulders slumping. “fine, let's head back.”

“it’s an hour drive anyway, maybe longer with traffic,” you point out, pinching her cheek just because. “you can sleep in the car.”

after paying for your apples and accepting a free mini apple pie from the cashier, you head back to the car. you hold her hand with one hand and carry the bag of apples with the other, feeling content as you walk through the fading light.

at the car, danielle settles into the passenger seat, her eyes fluttering shut as soon as you start driving. you glance over at her, peaceful and serene in sleep, her lips slightly parted. she looks so pretty under the soft glow of the streetlights that you can’t resist taking a quick picture when you reach the nearest stop sign.

you drive quietly, letting the soft sounds of her breathing fill the car. when you arrive at her house, you unbuckle her seatbelt carefully, brushing your fingers over her skin in the process. she murmurs something in her sleep, but doesn’t wake. you gently lift her out of the car, cradling her against your chest. she instinctively wraps her arms around your neck, holding on like she doesn’t want to let go.

getting inside is a bit of a challenge; you end up going through the gate to the backyard. once you’re inside, you lay her down gently on the couch, intending to pull away, but she tightens her grip around you. “no, y/n… stay,” she mumbles.

your arm moves around her, instinctively pulling her closer, and you can feel the gentle rise and fall of her breathing against you, her body fitting perfectly into the curve of yours. she smells like apples and cinnamon and the orchard and what it feels like to be a child and filled with adoration. it fills your senses, making you feel like you’re wrapped up in everything that feels good and familiar.

your fingers continue to gently massage her scalp, and before long, your eyes grow heavy, and you drift off with her beside you, feeling completely at peace.

—

you aren’t sure how long you’d been asleep when the creak of the front door makes you stir. your eyes flutter open to a blurry room, the dim light barely catching on the edges of furniture. you blink, trying to sit up, but danielle’s weight is still against you, her face tucked into the curve of your neck, her breaths soft and steady. 

a quiet voice breaks the sleepy haze. “well, look at that.”

you blink harder, clearing your vision to see danielle’s parents standing in the doorway, looking amused. their expressions are soft, eyes twinkling with the kind of knowing that makes your cheeks flush. you shift slightly, attempting to move, but danielle’s hold tightens, her face burrowing deeper into your neck, refusing to let go even in her sleep.

“hi,” you manage, voice thick with sleep, feeling the warmth creep up your face. “we were just… she fell asleep in the car, and i didn’t want to wake her.”

danielle’s mom smiles gently, eyes creasing at the corners. “you two look comfortable. did you have fun at the orchard?”

“yeah…” you murmur, still a little groggy, the day’s warmth lingering in your chest.

danielle’s dad chuckles, his gaze softening. “she’s hanging on like a little bear,” he says with a grin. “reminds me of when you two were kids, falling asleep in the backseat. she’d twist herself into the strangest positions, and you always seemed to make room for her.”

of course you did, you always made room for her, whether that was in the backseat of her parents’ car, your mind, or your heart.

you feel your cheeks get hotter, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. you glance down at danielle, her face still nestled into you, and it strikes you how natural it feels, like this was always how it was supposed to be.

as her parents quietly make their way upstairs, you lean back into the cushions, fingers absentmindedly brushing through danielle’s hair, the strands soft against your skin.

“y/n?” her voice is a soft mumble, barely more than a whisper. “are my parents home?”

“yeah,” you say softly, feeling her shift slightly.

“mhm... can we stay like this?” her voice is slurred, on the edge of falling back into sleep.

“whatever you want, dani.”

“okay,” she breathes, then after a pause, “hey, y/n?”

“yeah?”

“thanks for today,” she sighs, her words sleepy and warm against your neck. “i love you.”

the words make your heart swell, and maybe it’s the sleepiness or the quiet of the room, but you find the courage to press a soft kiss to her forehead, even if it means twisting awkwardly. you close your eyes, letting yourself relax into the moment, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

“i love you too danielle.”

[swiftlyinlove]

Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

summary: You and Spencer are best friends, but there's always been a little spark between you. When he cancels your plans for Christmas, you're determined to prove that you know him better than anyone else.

warnings: idiots in love, christmas fluff, a little angst if you squint??

word count: approximately 4.5k

a/n: Hi! It's been a long time since I wrote much of anything, but writing this for Christmas has been an absolute joy. I love Spencer so much, and this poor boy just suffers... I wanted to give him a happy ending for Christmas - or a happy beginning. I hope you like it.

The first thing you realized after the beep signaled the end of the phone call was how weird Spencer was acting lately.

To be fair, you two had an unconventional friendship. Due to the nature of his job, Spencer was often busy and therefore you couldn’t communicate as much as you'd like to, but you'd set up a base rule to make sure you never lost touch with one another: mandatory Friday night video call.

Every Friday, without fail, you would Facetime. Spencer wasn’t fond of technology, you were aware, but he’d gladly face his prejudice and lack of knowledge of anything digital if it meant talking to you. It didn't matter if he was home or if he was in another state for a case; come nine pm on a Friday, you two would be catching up about your lives.

That, of course, meant that you'd grasp at every opportunity you could to be with each other. He was in town for a case? You would meet up and have dinner if he had time; if he was doing something important and couldn’t finish it in time for dinner, he would drop by your place at the craziest hour in the morning and lie down next to you, gently shaking you awake to reveal he had gotten take out from your favorite restaurant.

Despite being awakened from your slumber, you would greet him with the brightest smile he’s ever seen - well, after letting out a little shriek of surprise, to which Spencer would respond with an “It’s me, little menace” and a chuckle that would make your heart flutter every time. 

The nickname had originated from your childhood. Spencer didn’t have many friends in middle school, and the fact that he was much smarter than kids his age didn’t help. His classmates either made fun of him or avoided him altogether, but you were… different. 

When you first moved into town, you were very nervous for your first day of school. Making friends was never easy for you, as your peers would deem you rather weird for always having your nose stuck in books. However, you quickly realized you had nothing to worry about - it took one look at little Spencer Reid, reading Crime and Punishment at the lunch table, for you to know you had found your place.

You sat next to him, ignoring the snickers from the so-called “popular kids”. He hesitantly lifted his gaze from the wrinkled pages - you reckoned he had probably read that book many times before -, expecting to see someone with a mean scowl ready to taunt him.

Instead, his wide eyes were met with your bright smile, your rosy cheeks, and your adorable ponytails, and he frowned in confusion. “Hello…?”

“Hi. I’m Y/N.” You greeted him excitedly. There was something about him that made you feel confident, so you continued. “I’m new here and I noticed you were sitting alone. And that seems like a really cool book if you don’t mind me saying, and I just thought you-”

You cut yourself off, realizing you were rambling. You could feel your cheeks warming up, and you were sure you looked as flustered as you were feeling. Before you could even dwell on how embarrassed you felt, Spencer’s lips broke into a smile. 

And that was it. From that moment on, you had been inseparable. Well, perhaps not physically; after all, he was academically way ahead of you and everyone else, and he even managed to graduate from high school at only twelve years old. 

That didn’t stop you from hanging out every moment you could, nor from exchanging letters every single day when he went to college. To this day, you still had those letters, safely tucked into a charming wooden box you kept on your bookshelf, but you’d never tell him that (although you were sure he knew, as the great profiler he was).

So, despite being separated due to your busy jobs - his more than yours - and living in different states, it wasn’t a surprise when you started arranging to spend the holidays together.

Since his mother was still institutionalized, Spencer didn't really have anyone to celebrate the holidays with and therefore didn't care much for the traditions. You, on the other hand, loved the holidays, but since your parents had passed away when you were in college, you were also alone during the season.

Thus, you cut a deal. Every year, he would use his extra vacation days to take a week off around Christmas and you would take turns visiting each other. Usually, you were both very excited about this occasion – it was one of the rare opportunities you had to be together in person, and you missed each other terribly.

This year, though... You had just called Spencer to confirm the date so you could book your flight to Quantico, and he had simply managed to say he couldn’t take time off before hanging up on you.

You were confused by this but chalked it up to it being one of those days for him. Working at the BAU, Spencer had to deal with a lot of gruesome cases often and, after a really bad one, he didn't find any energy to do much of anything.

While he'd never avoided you per se, when those days coincided with your phone calls, you would try to comfort him the best you could, and sometimes even managed to cheer him up a little. 

This time, you didn't even have the chance to, and that threw you off. Still, if Spencer was in a bad mood, maybe he just didn't feel like talking. Not even to you.

Deciding to not push it any further, it's only a few days later that you brought up your trip to Quantico, this time via text. You spent the entire day nearly jumping at your phone each time it vibrated, expecting a notification with his name on it.

It was only later that night that you'd get your answer in the form of an ‘I can't this year’. You read the text over and over again, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking, but you had hoped that, once he was in a better mood, he would be just as eager as you for your shared holiday season. 

It occurred to you that perhaps something happened, perhaps he couldn't file for a vacation because he had a big case that he couldn't step away from.

But if that were the case, he would've told you so. He would've explained, apologized even, and tried to schedule another date for your trip to make it up to you. So, you concluded, he just didn't want to see you.

That thought haunted you for the entire week.

Finally having enough of feeling blue and not getting any work done, you decided to go straight to the source in search of answers. Well, source adjacent - Spencer was still replying rather coldly to your texts, so you couldn’t ask him directly. Penelope Garcia was the next best thing.

You had met the members of the BAU after a particularly successful case in your city. Their flight would only leave in the morning and Spencer thought he could take the opportunity to take you to the cinema for a late-night movie, just like the good old days of your adolescence.

However, Penelope and Rossi had other plans. To properly celebrate their hard work that led to saving multiple women who had been kidnapped a few weeks prior, they decided to take the team out for dinner in a nice restaurant.

“And it’s mandatory. It’s not like we have anything else to do tonight, so no excuses.” She had warned in a playfully threatening tone. 

Spencer shifted in his spot while putting away his things in his satchel. After all the years he worked at the BAU, he still hadn’t told his coworkers - his found family, really - about you. It was the one thing he kept close to his chest, the one secret he wanted to keep forever.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he brushed his hair behind his ears, not daring to turn and face the team while he spoke. “I sort of already have plans.”

His voice was so quiet that the team wasn’t sure they had heard him correctly. After a moment of silence, Derek’s lips curled into his (in)famous smirk and he gently nudged Spencer’s side, making the lanky boy turn around to face his friends.

Spencer’s cheeks were flushed and he kept his eyes trained on the ground, not wanting to face the curious expressions on their faces. But when Derek nudged him again, asking him “Who’s the girl?” with such a teasing tone, he couldn’t help but look up.

“She’s just a friend.” He blurted out, eyes immediately widening upon the realization of what he admitted.

While the rest of the team just shrugged it off and dived into their conversations, Derek patted him on the back - the force of which sent Spencer stumbling a few feet forward -, and Penelope lit up like he had just told her that he won the lottery.

“You have to bring her!” Penelope begged, grabbing his arm as they walked towards the door of the local precinct they had been working on for the case. “I want to meet this mystery woman.”

Penelope didn’t say it to him then, but she was sure you weren’t ‘just a friend’. She might’ve not been a profiler, but the look in his eyes when he spoke about you and his hesitation to cancel your plans for the sake of the team made her think that perhaps you were much more special to him than he realized.

Her suspicions were, of course, confirmed when he showed up at the restaurant a few hours later with you in his arms, wearing an elegant black dress and a radiant smile on your face as you whispered something to him, immediately breaking into a fit of giggles.

Spencer tried to feign indignation at your comment, but he couldn’t help but smile as he led you to his friends, who were all watching the interaction with surprise and disbelief. Your laughter calmed when you reached the table, but the smile never fell from your face as Spencer introduced you, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. That’s when Penelope knew.

You clicked rather well with his friends. They were, naturally, very curious about you, and you did your best to answer all their questions. Meanwhile, Spencer, who was sitting next to you, placed a hand on your lower back, making sure you didn’t feel overwhelmed under the attentive eyes of his friends.

Penelope and you were a match made in heaven, Spencer reckoned. You quipped back and forth the entire night, even swapping numbers by the end of it, and Spencer even joked that you had found a new favorite FBI agent as you made your way to his car.

Chuckling at his statement, you stopped in your tracks, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to place a tender kiss on his cheek. “You’ll always be my favorite. But she’s a close second.”

Spencer was sure his heart had stopped right then and there and that he had gone to heaven.

Since that night, you frequently called Penelope to talk about numerous things - from the latest TV shows you were both hooked on to recipes for dessert -, but you rarely talked about Spencer. Until today.

“Penny, I need your help.” You blurted out as soon as the blonde answered your call. 

“Woah, woah, calm down my friend,” Penelope answered, amused and slightly worried about the urgency in your tone. “What’s on your pretty little mind?”

All it took for Penelope to know something was wrong was two words. “It’s Spencer.”

“What about boy wonder?” The technical analyst questioned, trying to make sense of what you were saying.

“He’s been acting so cold lately.” You explained, sighing in exhaustion as you plopped down on your couch. “Well, you know how we always arrange to spend the holidays together?”

Penelope hummed in agreement - every year when Spencer would put in a request to take time off during the holidays, she would make sure it was at the top of Strauss’ paperwork, knowing he was doing it for you.

At her approval, you continued. “This year I was supposed to come to Quantico, but every time I try to bring it up, he shuts me down and just says that he can’t. I don’t understand why he’s acting like this and it's been driving me nuts all week.”

The blonde’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at your image on the phone. 

“Are we sure we’re talking about the same person? Because he seemed pretty excited last week. He wouldn’t shut up about how he found the perfect gift for you and how he couldn’t wait to see your face when you opened it.”

This confused you even more, and you frowned as you processed her words. “Yeah, well, this week he can barely text me back. I don’t want anything crazy, Penny, I just want to be with him for Christmas.”

“I don’t know what happened. As far as I can tell, he did put in the request for a vacation.” Penelope replied. Then, her face lit up in realization and she cursed under her breath. “Morgan.”

“Morgan? What does Derek have to do with this?” You asked, more disoriented than ever.

“Wait here,” Penelope said, quickly getting up from her chair and leaving you to stare at her empty office. She returns a few minutes later, looking pretty annoyed, to see you making a cup of coffee in your kitchen.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweet cheeks.” The blonde said apologetically, making your gaze return to your phone, forgotten on the counter as you waited for her.

You quickly picked it up, registering her distressed expression. “What happened?”

“I found out why Reid’s acting like an ass to you.” She replied, her voice softening as she saw the glimmer of worry in your eyes. “It seems like Morgan has done quite a number on him.”

“What do you mean Morgan has done a number on him? What did he do?” You questioned, growing irritated by Penelope’s ability to beat around the bush. You loved her, you really did, but you just wanted to know what happened.

“I’m not sure I should be telling you this, but since you’re so upset…” Penelope trailed off, pursing her lips. “Morgan better pay me back.”

“Penelope, just spit it out.” You interrupted, your impatience reflected in your tone.

“Fine. I told you Reid wouldn’t shut up about you, and Morgan may or may not have teased him about his feelings for you and it may or may not have caused Spencer to clam up in his shell.” Penelope rushed through her words and you blinked, unsure you had heard her correctly.

You could feel your heart beating in your ears as you asked her, “Spencer… Has feelings for me?”

Penelope looked reluctant to answer your questions, clearly not wanting to violate Spencer’s privacy. Ever since she met you, she knew you and the resident FBI genius were destined for each other, but she wanted you to discover on your terms.

“Penny, please.” You sounded out of breath, and it cleared any sign of hesitation on Penelope’s mind. 

“Baby girl, I can’t be the one to tell you that. You have to ask him.” She responded, her voice full of empathy. “But between me and you, I’m pretty sure you know what the answer is.”

Spencer was certain that he was in the 9th circle of hell. 

Ever since Morgan’s comment, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He always knew what you two had was special.  You knew how to make him laugh; Spencer didn’t consider himself to be difficult to entertain, but he could be quite oblivious to his coworkers' jokes sometimes, especially if they were about him. But you? Oh, you managed to make him laugh hysterically with a simple comment, and it endeared him. 

You had been with him through the good and the bad, after all. You were there at his graduation, celebrating his first Ph.D. - and the two that came after that, too - and you were right there by his side when he watched his mother be dragged away to a mental institution, holding his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

That was what he loved most about you. He could always count on you to be there for him. He recalled the first moment he realized you were much more than a friend to him.

It had been after the Tobias Hankel case. Spencer slipped in and out of consciousness as the doctors dragged him through the hospital, murmuring to themselves about testing the drugs in his system and checking his vitals.

His life wasn’t in danger anymore, but he was oh so tired. He had spent days upon days of captivity without a wink of sleep, locked in an empty cabin where he was tortured by two of Tobias’ personalities, and all he could think about between getting tormented and getting drugged was you.

He was sure he was going to die then, and his main concern was that he wouldn’t be able to see your pretty smile again. He would tell you this when you appeared at his bedside a few hours later, claiming that you received a call from the hospital - unsurprisingly, you were each other’s emergency contacts - and had threatened a stewardess to get a ticket to the next plane to Virginia, and you would call him ridiculous for it.

It was only when you were sitting next to him on his hospital bed, his head leaning against your chest as you combed your hands through his hair, that he allowed himself to cry, to reveal how truly scared he had been under Tobias’ hands.

You whispered sweet nothings in his ear as you softly lifted his head, making sure he was looking at you when you softly kissed his tears away. His arms had tightened around you, a silent sign of his gratitude, and he knew then, he knew, you were everything to him.

How could he have not fallen for you after all that? 

But he could never tell you. He had been rejected many times in his life, but if he was to get rejected by you? He was sure his heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

So he tried to bury his feelings deep inside him, keeping you a secret from the people who knew him best and, when the time came, introduced you to them. As a friend. Because that’s all that you were. Friends.

When Morgan teased him about his feelings for you, Spencer entered panic mode. If Morgan could see Spencer was madly in love with you, then you could see it too - you could always read him like a book, after all.

And if you hadn’t brought it up… You didn’t want to. He knew you’d never want to hurt him, so the only logical conclusion he could reach was: you don’t feel the same.

He tried his best to avoid you. Cutting you off whenever you brought up your plans for the holidays, replying to your texts with short answers, and even refraining from watching Doctor Who in his free time, because it only reminded him of how you two used to lie on your couch during summer break and watch it together. 

What he didn’t count on was opening his door in mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve and seeing you standing in front of him, coat covered in the snow that was falling outside the comfort of his building and a small smile on your face.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.” You said bashfully, not sure how he would react to your presence. 

“Merry Christmas.” He replied, his breath knocked out of his lungs at how beautiful you looked standing there. He might have fallen in love with you all over again. 

After a beat of silence, he wet his lips, looking at you with the same wide-eyed gaze he greeted you with when you were kids. “What... What are you doing here?”

Your lips curled into a sheepish smile. “What, you thought I was gonna miss Christmas?”

Seeing you in front of him, hearing your voice without the faint static of the phone for the first time in a while… it was surreal to him. He couldn’t help but cave in and wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer into a tight hug.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders just as tightly, your body finally relaxing against his. You could feel his nose nuzzled into your neck, and you smiled against his shoulder.

“I missed you.” You whispered, letting your words linger between the two of you.

“I missed you too.” He whispered back, and you knew he was sincere. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

“I know.” You breathed in his scent, pressing a soft kiss against his shoulder before pulling away. He reluctantly let you go, a remorseful smile on his lips.

Spencer guided you into his apartment, and you took note of how he put up your usual Christmas decorations. “You managed to set up the tree by yourself?” You teased him.

He chuckled, watching as you settled on his couch and patted the space next to you. He promptly followed your lead, sitting down beside you. “Yeah, it was a real challenge.”

Before you could even reply, Spencer reached out to grab your hand, his thumb softly caressing your knuckles to calm his racing mind.

“Look, I’m so sorry. I’ve been stuck in my head lately, and it’s not fair that I treated you like that. We’ve had this tradition forever and I feel like I disrespected it and-” Spencer rambled, and you pressed your lips against his to shut him up.

Your sudden action stunned him, and he couldn’t help but succumb to your spell. Placing his hands on both sides of your face and closing his eyes, he kissed you back as gently and tenderly as he could, feeling you melt against him.

Once you pulled away, his eyes fluttered open, looking at you with a lovestruck, surprised gaze. He seemed to be speechless, which made you giggle.

“I hope that was on your wishlist this Christmas.” You joked, leaning your forehead against his. 

Your gaze softened as you took in his expression. “Penny told me everything. In all seriousness, I understand why you did it.  I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t just tell me.”

He gulped, feeling vulnerable under your loving stare. He always got the impression that you could see right through him.

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been in love with you almost my entire life, and when I finally realized it, I was afraid that if I acted on them, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” He murmured, his tone growing sadder.

“And when Morgan joked about my feelings for you, I just realized that maybe I hadn’t been as discreet as I thought and perhaps you already knew and didn’t talk about it so you wouldn’t hurt me.” He continued, closing his eyes again as if the mere thought was too painful to bear. 

He took a deep breath, his thumbs starting to slowly brush against your cheekbones. “I didn’t want to face you and find out if it was true, because… Because my heart couldn’t take it.”

You listened quietly to his words, his touch on your skin grounding you and sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It broke your heart to hear him speak like that, as if the mere thought of you feeling the same never crossed his mind, as if it was absurd. 

You knew he had low self-esteem, a permanent scar from all the times he was bullied throughout his life, but his self-deprecating view never ceased to shock you.

“Spencer…” You whispered his name like it was sacred, like he was something to be worshipped, and it made his heart skip a beat. “I know all your favorite songs, how you take your coffee, and your favorite books. In order. I know you. I’d be crazy not to love you.”

You could feel him exhale in relief at your quiet confession, his racing mind finding solace in your words. “Really?”

“Of course.” You replied with a chuckle, leaning forward to press a feather-light peck against his lips. “I’ve been in love with you since we were, like, sixteen. All I ever wanted was to be the one to give you everything you want.”

He smiled as you pulled away once again, thinking about how much time you two had lost while dancing around your feelings. Although, he supposed, it wasn’t lost time - you had spent those years giving each other love, even if it wasn’t necessarily romantic.

“We’re both idiots.” He replied, making you laugh once more. You stood up, grabbing both of his hands and guiding him to the kitchen. He followed you with a bright smile on his face; he would follow you anywhere, he suspected.

“I was thinking I could make those cookies you like and, afterward, we could perhaps… snuggle by the fireplace?” You suggested, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. 

He pretended to think for a moment, before he finally gave in, pressing a delicate kiss against your temple. “Anything you want, little menace.”

Spencer hummed, burying his face further into his neck. “I was thinking of reading a few books. Santa was going to keep me company.”

Later that night, when you were both snuggled up against each other in front of his fireplace while eating the gingerbread cookies you both made, you asked him curiously, “What were you planning to do for Christmas, if I hadn’t shown up?”

You laughed quietly at his admission. “Well, Santa doesn’t know you like I do.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Your genius agreed, peppering little kisses onto your skin. “You’re the best Christmas present ever, do you know that?”

“Yeah? Wait until you see what I actually bought for you.” You replied, a playful smile on your face. “Besides, a little birdie told me you got me the perfect Christmas gift.”

“I’m gonna kill Penelope.” He muttered under his breath, sending you into a fit of laughter. 

Well, maybe this Christmas time

You'll finally realize

That I could be the one

To give you everything you want

[kpop---scenarios]

Day Three: Changbin

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Smut and..Smut [18+ MINORS DO NOT READ]

Word Count: 1.1k

Day One: Felix | Day Two: Jeongin |

You let out a big yawn, situating your outfit before you walk into the empty gym. Late on Friday nights, you had a private session with Changbin, your personal trainer. They usually close around 5 pm, but he always comes to train you at 8 pm every Friday. You like to think it's because he has a thing for you, but most likely, he's just trying to be accommodating. However, that doesn't stop you from relentlessly flirting back and forth with him.

You swore you could cut the sexual tension with a knife when things got sweaty and you were ready to take things to the next level, if he was interested, and tonight you were going to find out.

“Hey.” You smile, setting your bag down. Changbin turns around, a grin plastered on his face as he sets down his weights. “Hey you.” He says, walking over to you. “Are you ready to go hard?”

“I'm ready to go very hard.” You smirk. You can see a slight blush creep across his face.

“As usual, we'll start on the treadmill to warm up.” He says, pointing to the machine. You knew the routine, but he always told you. Treadmill for 30 minutes, stretching, squats, push-ups, sit-ups, the works. He liked to work you until you were dripping sweat.

An hour later you're laying on the mat, sweaty while he looked so fucking good. He wasn't sweating at all, in fact he smelled so fucking good. “Deadlifts today.” He grins. He knew you hated them, which is why it made him happy to make you do them. You weren't terribly upset about it, because now you could finally see if there was truly anything between the two of you. You get into place, the weights on your shoulders, your hands in position and Changbin standing behind you, closely for support. You squat down with the weights and as you come up, you stick your ass out every so slightly. Just enough for it to graze his cock. You're watching him in the mirror as you squat down again, and stick your ass out and graze his cock again. He lets out a deep breath as he shakes his head, trying to focus.

“Again.” He whispers. You squat down again, this time sticking your ass out even more, grazing him again, but you pause, squatting down again and going back up just to tease him a little more. You can feel how hard his cock is as you come back up.

Changbin clears his throat, stepping away from you. “Take a break.. I'm gonna lift some weights.” He says looking around, all his blood must have rushed to his other head. You watch him in the mirror lay down on the bench as he lifts weights. You can see his cock pressing against his sweatpants and you fucking wanted it. You walk over to him standing in front of his head to spot him. But instead you just distract him. You bend over letting your tits spill out of your sports bra a little.

“Fuck.” He groans, continuing to lift.

“You okay?” You ask, cocking your head to the side.

He sighs. “You're making it really hard to concentrate.”

“Why is that?” You ask.

“Because all I want to do is bury my cock so deep inside you.” He says, continuing to lift. You walk around standing near his legs now. He watches you as he lifts the weights up and down. He watches you slip off your shorts. He watches you get down on your knees and pull down his sweatpants, letting his cock spring free.

You get on your knees, wrapping your hand around his cock, slowly pumping him as you watch him struggle to focus on lifting the weights up. You laugh as you move forward a little more, wrapping your lips around his tip. You take your tongue, swirling it around the tip.

“Christ.” He groans, as he slightly bucks his hips. You slowly swallow more of him until he hits the back of your throat. “Fucking hell.” He yells as you bob your head, forcing his cock down your throat even more. You lift your head, taking a breath before you swallow it again, making him groan loudly.

“Sit on my cock before I fucking cum in your mouth.” He snaps. You release his cock with a pop, and stand up. You can feel your wetness spilling from inside you. You go to straddle him, placing your hands on his chest as you slowly sink down onto him. You throw your head back as your pussy swallows his cock. He thrusts up, pushing himself deep into you.

“Fuck.” You cry out, rocking on him, grinding your clit against him as you ride him. He reaches up, gripping your ass, giving you a hard slap as he thrusts up, slamming himself inside you. He rams himself inside you a few more times before he sits up, you continue to rock on him as he lifts up your sports bra, letting your tits out. Changbin reaches up, pinching your nipples before cupping your breasts, putting his face in between them. He wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking hard while you bounce on his cock.

“Oh shit.” He groans, his hands now roaming your body. “You gotta cum.”

“I'm.. right.. there.” You whine, grinding faster on him. Your clit was at the perfect angle to rub against him, the feeling of his cock deep inside you, leaking precum made your orgasm come even faster. “Fuck I'm cumming.” You cry out, your body tensing as pure pleasure releases through your body.

“I'm close.” He moans.

“Cum in my mouth.” You whisper. You get off of him, getting down onto your knees as you take him in your mouth, slurping up your cum from his cock, shoving him down your throat and sucking hard.

“Jesus christ.” He yells, throwing his head back. you use your hand to jerk him off while you sucked in his tip, teasing him, while your other hand gently groped his balls. “That's feels..so fucking good.” You start to go faster and harder, he was like putty in your hands, the pants and whimpers that came from his lips made you want to do more to him.

“Shit, I'm cumming.” He cries, his orgasm hitting him hard. He's breathing heavily as he shoots his cum into your mouth, panting from the unexpected work out. You look up at him and smile, swallowing his cum. He looks shocked, his mouth open wide.

“What? You haven't seen that before?” You chuckle.

“Nuh uh.” He says. “I'm keeping you forever.”

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 1

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 2.7K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut

Author's Note: hello! i'm Eva and this is my first fic on tumblr ever! I've been a reader for so long and I've always wanted to write my own stories, so I figured I finally would. I know it’s kind of short but I promise the other parts will be longer. Please give me any feedback you have and let me know if you'd like there to be a tag list or anything! I hope you guys like it!! p.s. I'm totally posting this instead of doing my morphology homework that's due in 15 minutes

masterlist / next

The door to your childhood home looked artificially welcoming. There were too many flowers lining the walls encasing the looming wooden door. The grass on the lawn just was a bit too green without a blade out of place and the paved walkway was freshly powerwashed and missing even a speck of dirt. You let out the deep breath you were holding and gently took hold of the overly ornate bronze knocker adorning the painted wood of the door. Two loud thuds rang out as you knocked and the door quickly opened afterwards.

“Hello, Miss Y/N, your parents have been expecting you.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you, Mrs. Oh,” you responded quietly, nodding at the grey-haired woman. She shot you a sympathetic smile before ushering you in, taking your coat and carefully laying it over her arm. After removing your shoes, you followed her past the foyer to the living room where your parents awaited. 

You knew what was coming, you knew that this had been decided long before you were born. Yet, you still felt unprepared. You had grown comfortable, living in your simple apartment in Gangnam and your quiet work routine. Biting your lip, you reprimanded yourself internally, You should’ve brought this shit up in therapy before it happened.

“Here we are, Miss Y/N,” Mrs. Oh said, snapping you out of your self-pity session. You nodded gratefully at her, sending a small smile her way. Her eyebrows wove together in her own pity-ridden expression and she quickly whispered, “Good luck,” while exiting swiftly. You steeled your nerves and forced your chin up high, knowing that you’d most likely cower inwards as soon as you faced your parents anyway.

Stepping into the room, you noted the almost intervention-like setup your parents had arranged themselves in, with your father sitting proudly in his reclining, leather armchair, clad in a dark blue quarter zip and khaki pants. Your mother stood facing the fireplace, arms crossed, in a simple and elegant turquoise dress and hair tied up in a tight and neat bun, with her baby hairs smoothed back to prevent any imperfection. You could almost imagine her pinched mouth, forever encased in a stern and unamused expression. 

“Hello father, mother,” you started, trying to smooth the slight trembling in your voice. Your mother turned around, eyes narrowing at your form, “Sit down.”

You promptly obeyed.

“Your father and I have decided on your marriage. It’ll be to the Min family, to Min Yoongi.”

“What? To him? But,” you began protesting but your mother quickly cut you off with a steely glare. 

“It has already been decided. Your wedding will be in eight months. I’ll forward you the invitation list and you can add three people of your choosing. You’ll be having dinner with us and the Min family on Friday at six. I’ll have Yujin send you an email with further details. Don’t be late.” 

You looked to your father in a desperate plea but were only met with stony silence and a passive face. You turned back to your mother and registered the composed expression painting her face. Your fate had been decided, and it had not worked in your favor at all. Rising slowly, you set your hands by your side and bowed towards your parents, “I understand. I’ll be there.”

Your mother swiftly exited the room, evidently deciding the conversation was over. You could hear her dangling earrings tinkling against each other in what felt like a mocking melody. Your father calmly produced a cigar from the table next to him and lit up, no longer acknowledging you either. You let out another slow breath and walked out. 

Collecting your coat from Mrs. Oh, who tried to give you a comforting shoulder squeeze but it felt more like condolences than anything, and made your way to your car parked in front of the gate closing off your parents’ home. 

That’s it then.

You felt eerily calm yet stressed as you started up your car and carefully reversed out, making sure to avoid hitting the carved statues your parents had in front of the iron gate. As you drove home, your mind started racing with the information you had been relayed. 

Min Yoongi as your soon-to-be-husband? What irony.

Does he even know you exist?

Will you be able to survive this?

Hand gripping the steering wheel hard, you quickly dialed the most recent number in your contact list. She answered after only two rings.

“Y/N! Are you still alive? How’d it go?”

“Hi Joohee, not great. I’m completely and totally fucked.”

Joohee chuckled on the other end of the line, “Want to come over?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “I was hoping you’d offer.”

“I’ll get the booze.”

“Min Yoongi? Now that’s ironic,” Joohee chuckled, seemingly at your expense. You shot a glare her way which she shrugged in response to.

“How long have you been crushing on him? This is, like, practically fate. Maybe this’ll be a good thing.”

You scoffed in response, “A good thing? Joohee, be serious. The last thing I want to do is get with my long-time infatuation, not crush, by forcing him to be my husband.” You took another swig of wine. It was a cheap pink Moscato, perfect for nights like these with Joohee. 

Joohee shoved a pillow in your direction in an effort to gain more room on the couch you had stuffed yourselves onto. The trash reality dating show you had on in the background was showing a rather dramatic fight but you paid it no attention, “It’s just…I haven’t talked to him in the last, what, five years? He probably doesn’t even remember me. And you’ve heard the rumors, I don’t think he’ll be exactly thrilled at giving up his playboy lifestyle just because he has to marry me.”

“What if he doesn’t give that up?”

You stared at Joohee in slight surprise, “What do you mean?”

“Like, what if he says that he doesn’t want to stop hooking up with other people? What will you do?”

Your brows furrowed as you considered the question, “I don’t know, I guess. I mean, I can’t really stop him. I guess I’d just have to live with it.”

Joohee hummed in response before continuing on, “Well, this is happening whether you like it or not. Just try to make it amicable at the least. Maybe it’ll work out, you never know. Just look at Jin oppa.”

Kim Seokjin, Joohee’s older brother and a friend of Min Yoongi’s, was arranged by Joohee’s parents to marry Song Yeonhee, and the two had seemingly fallen in love after a rocky start to their nuptials. You had seen them recently at Yeonhee’s baby shower and she had been glowing, looking unbelievably happy. You recalled the loving gaze that Seokjin had sent her during the party and the pang of envy you felt, knowing that you would likely never get to experience that. 

“Yeah, well,” you responded, “He’s an outlier. Most of these types of marriages don’t work out. I have a feeling I’m going to be a part of that group.”

“You’re too negative, you haven’t even met him for dinner yet. Maybe he’ll surprise you. You just have to give him the chance.”

You mulled over Joohee’s words and nodded, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess I’ll see how Friday goes.”

You weren’t technically late. 

While you still had about 5 minutes before the dinner officially started, you weren’t early, and that was unacceptable by your mother’s standards. A mini emergency at your job had left you scrambling to leave on time, only noticing the late hour when one of your coworkers asked if they should order take-out for the team. After profusely apologizing to your team, they encouraged you to go, practically shooing you out the door, claiming they could handle the situation for now. 

Which left you barely on time to park in the lot outside the ridiculously fancy Japanese restaurant your mother’s assistant, Yujin, had sent to your email earlier that week. You quickly stepped out, smoothing out your dress that you had kept in the backseat of your car and had hastily changed into in the parking lot of your office. Tugging down the hem, you took a moment to look at your reflection in your car window and attempt to look more presentable. Your hair was slightly frizzy but nicely combed back, and you had extremely minimal makeup on from only remembering last minute this morning, and your eyes looked tired. 

You felt tired.

Shaking off your nerves, you headed inside the restaurant giving your family name to the hostess who took you back to a private room where your mother and father were waiting. Your father spared you only a cursory glance before returning his gaze to his phone and your mother looked you up and down before uttering a curt, “Hm.” You held in an eye roll and quickly sat next to them, trying to calm your heart rate for the sure-to-be exhilarating dinner ahead. At six on the dot, you spotted the same hostess leading the Min family towards your table. Your mother stood, welcoming them and urging them to sit down. You stood as well, a little less welcoming, a lot more obligated. 

Mrs. Min looked like the epitome of a rich older woman with dark black hair combed back and glittering jewels lining her ears and neck, complementing the midnight blue gown she had on. Mr. Min was dressed quite similarly to your father, in a simple suit, the only difference being his starkly greying hair providing quite the contrast to his dark blazer. Close behind them was the person you were the most anxious about meeting, Min Yoongi. His pitch-black hair complemented his slightly tanned skin nicely and his feline eyes remained straightforward and untelling. He was dressed in a simple black suit as well with an expensive-looking watch adoring his wrist. His mouth was closed tightly and he did not smile at your mother when she greeted him, not at your father when they sat down across from your family, and certainly not at you.

Your hands nervously played with each other in your lap as you took your seat again. You listened quietly as the mothers exchanged pleasantries and the fathers gruffly greeted each other. You were trying to avoid looking at Yoongi as much as possible.

“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Min started, making you startle to attention, “How old are you now?”

“Twenty-nine, ma’am.”

“Ah, so only a bit younger than Yoongi. That’s good then. How is your work?”

You felt your father stiffen next to you and prayed your discomfort didn’t show on your face, “Good. I’m in the middle of producing a new project with my team.”

“How lovely. Although I’m sure you’ll be leaving that soon after the wedding. You won’t need to work then after all,” Mrs. Min smiled at you. It was hard to read her so you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or not, though if you had to guess, it was likely the latter. Your job was a point of contention with your family. Choosing to work in a video game production company did not go over well, and if your older brother, Kyungsoo, hadn’t been in line to inherit Seo Industries, you would’ve never been able to keep it. 

You smiled awkwardly in response to Mrs. Min and returned your gaze to the empty plate in front of you. 

As the conversation dragged on, you couldn’t help but steal a glance or two at Yoongi, who was periodically checking his phone and looking permanently bored of the conversation. Not that you could blame him. The dull talk of social circle gossip and work was beginning to get grating, and even the introduction of fancy entrees wasn’t enough to stop your stomach from feeling queasy. 

Yoongi had yet to say one word to you. To be fair, you hadn’t said anything to him either, but he had barely looked in your direction since he entered the private dining room. How exactly were you supposed to start a conversation with that? 

Soon after the desserts came out and were finished, with you politely refusing, feeling like you were going to throw up any second, Mrs. Min suddenly pushed her chair back and stood. She looked down at you and Yoongi and announced, “Well. I think we can leave them to talk on their own for a bit. Why don’t you join us for a drink at our home, Eujin-ssi?”

At the sound of her name, your mother stood, nodding, “Yes, that sounds lovely. Let’s let them get to know each other a bit more.” With that, the parents swiftly gathered their belongings and left, before you could even protest, leaving you staring open-mouthed at the exit. 

Slowly, you turned to face Yoongi and were startled, seeing his eyes already boring into yours. 

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Yoongi stated, his deep and stable voice wrapping around you for the first time that night, “This marriage means nothing to me. It shouldn’t to you either. I’ll do my thing and you do yours. Most importantly, stay out of my life except when necessary. Just because my parents are forcing my hand doesn’t mean I have to adhere to every little thing. Nothing will be changing except for our living situation and a ring on our fingers.”

A little stunned, you could only stutter a passive agreement and watch as he rose and left without sparing you another glance. 

Letting out a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to understand what had just transpired. Your heart raced as you quickly stacked up the dishes to be a bit easier for the busboy and quickly made your way to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you vaguely registered Min Yoongi’s cold demeanor towards you.

It seems he didn’t remember you after all.

The dress you had on was itchy, but you knew if you complained, you would only end up with a sharp stinging on your cheek and tear-filled eyes. You had escaped the boring party with grown-ups and were sitting outside on a stone bench in the garden, trying to remedy your hurt feelings at the hands of the mean, older boy, Hyunsoo. 

He had confidently poked fun at your appearance, saying the dress was a bit too small on you and that your parents should’ve sprung for a size that could fit an elephant instead. He continued on, saying your parents must’ve forgotten to vaccinate you for measles considering all the red spots on your face that were actually acne. Being a tender twelve years of age and going through the worst bits of puberty, his words hit you hard and you quickly ran from the scene into the garden. 

Unable to contain your tears, they slipped down your face in large droplets and soaked into the front of your dress. 

“Hey, you.”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy a couple of years older than you standing in front of you, black hair shining in the light from the garden lamps. His sharp eyes trailed down your tear-stained face. You quickly turned away in shame, not wanting to undergo any more embarrassment tonight. 

“Hey, snot-face.”

You shot him a glare but softened when you saw his hand extended, holding a handkerchief, his face turned slightly away, “Use this. You look ugly while you’re crying.”

You gingerly took the cloth from his hands and blew your nose, noticing him wince out of the corner of your eye. 

“Thank you,” you managed and he only rolled his eyes in response. 

“Yeah, whatever. I think Joohee’s looking for you,” he grumbled before turning on his heel and stalking off back towards the party. 

Confused, your eyes followed after him, not knowing how he knew that Joohee would be looking for you. You unfolded the handkerchief and noticed an elegant embroidering of three letters in black near the bottom, MYG. 

Oh, you realized, Min Yoongi. Joohee’s older brother was friends with him but you had never seen him before. Joohee had described him as kind of rude and quite closed off, but you disagreed. He certainly didn’t seem that bad.

masterlist / next

[luveline]

extremely random thought for shy friday: r works up the courage and bakes steve some kind of baked good. little do they know it’s with the one ingredient steve absolutely HATES (idk man like grapes or something) and he feels bad so he doesn’t tell them and eats it until dustin or someone walks in and is like 🤨🤨🤨 ur eating that???

thank you for your request! steve x shy!reader

Steve knows that while you may not seem nervous on the surface, you're a shy girl. You're always overthinking things, always watching people out of the corner of your eye so you can respond to their behaviour. You minimise yourself.

It's why he can't tell you he doesn't like raisins. You've made him something, expressed your creativity, your passion, and your feelings (he thinks) through baked goods. Steve's sure your German apple strudel would be delicious if he could stand raisins. He does a great approximation of a smile as he eats one.

"You like it?" you ask hopefully.

"Who doesn't?" he asks, clumsily avoiding the question. "Everybody likes strudel. Thanks, Germany."

Your smile cleaves him open. It's a mixture of incredible sweetness in line with your proferred treats, a hint of bashfulness he adores, and your usual go-to grin. It's familiar and new at once, and Steve wants to take a photo.

"I promised some to your friend," you say, closing the lid of the tuppperware you'd brought with you, "but what he doesn't take you can have. I kind of made them for you, anyways."

Steve melts. He's cool and sophisticated, obviously, but his stomach goes molten at the idea that someone would care about him enough to make him food from scratch without his having to ask, and that someone being you makes it all the more warming. He feels like jelly.

He's slow on the upkeep, and doesn't know who you mean until Dustin and co. are peddling up to the bench you're sitting at full pelt. Steve curses under his breath as they come to a slow, and Dustin's eyes hone in on your box.

"You have the goods?" he asks, like this is some box office drug deal, and not like he's interrupting your almost-date.

You shake your box gently. Lucas and Will share an enthusiastic, "Nice!"

Mike, less prone to distractions that aren't his girlfriend, nods at Steve's hand. He's frowning. "What are you doing?"

Four sets of eyes move between Mike's stare and Steve's hand like spectators at a tennis match. Steve can't tell him to cut it out while you're looking, so he polishes off the apple strudel, feels sick at the wrinkly, gelatinous texture of the raisins as they go down, and glares at the kids full force. "What, you're so greedy you need them all?"

"You don't like raisins," Mike says.

Dustin blinks at him. "You actually ate one of those?" He shifts on his bike, foot on the ground so he doesn't fall. "You said raisins are the evil cousin of a chocolate chip."

Steve doesn't know what's worse, the embarrassment of being caught red-handed or your tiny pout.

"Sorry," he says to you quickly, uncool, so uncool, "I mean. No, I don't like raisins. But they were still good!"

You're expressionless despite his insistence. "It's okay," you say, and there, a twitch to your brow he actually understands for once. You're amused.

You dole sweet treats out to the boys and they bike off calling thank yous and giggling like idiots at the mess they've made, no doubt. You smile down into your almost empty box, one remaining strudel with nowhere to go.

"Steve," you murmur, sounding pleased, "why didn't you say something?"

He hooks his elbow over the back of the bench. "And tell you to your face I don't like what you made for me? I know I fell off the wagon, but I'm not hopeless. You don't do that to girls."

"Well. Next time, you should. Is there anything else you don't, uh, don't like?" Steve can't hide his surprise. You drop your gaze to your lap. "You know, so I can make you something else?"

"You want to?"

You rub your thumb against the opposite index finger. You can't meet his eyes, but Steve knows you're alright.

"Yeah, I'd love to make you something you'll actually enjoy. Was kinda the whole point."

Steve places his hands between yours where they worry in your lap, dipping his head to the side hoping it'll encourage you to look up. You do, and he can practically see the heat emanating from your face, even if there's no evidence of blush.

"Anything you make I'll like."

"So long as it doesn't have raisins," you say.

He squeezes your hand gently. "Exactly. And maybe not too much cinnamon. It makes me think about my great grandma's house. Which wouldn't matter, but she totally died choking on a snickerdoodle."

You laugh, and you clamp your free hand over your mouth.

"That's terrible," you say between your fingers.

He elbows you gently. "You laughed. Makes you the terrible one." He thinks about your offer, and how sweet you are, and how horribly he fucked it up by pretending to like something he didn't. "Thank you. For the thought."

You take your hand from your cheek and place it over his. It's practically aflame it's so hot, and your lips are worse when you dot forward to kiss him. You were likely aiming for his cheek, but he turned a little and it ended up a centimetre from his closed mouth.

You sit back sharply.

"You're welcome," you say, eyes widened.

"Thanks," he says again. He clears his throat.

He pretends not to notice how flustered you are from your almost kiss. Maybe he should poke a little fun at you, call you forward or eager or in a rush, but he doesn't.

He'd be a hypocrite to make fun of you, because Steve's flustered too. Your lips are the sweetest treat you could give.

[therantsofawriterrr]

Hey love 💝 would you think about doing a Bucky Barnes imagine where he's madly in love with Wanda's best friend, who often visits the Compound. One day you're also over seeing Wanda but she's still in a Meeting or something, so you end up alone in the living area when Bucky gets there after training. First he doesn't notice you staring at him all shower-wet and half naked but eventually he notices you and gets all shy. Just until you simply walk up to him and kiss him, which he happily returns. You both end up in his bedroom, making love and cuddle afterwards where you both finally admit your feelings for each other. In the end you fall asleep naked and cuddled together. And that's just how Wanda and the others find you after searching for you the whole day. I hope it's not weird and okay with you 🫶🏼🩷 thank you !

Warnings: use of l/n and y/n once (never thought I'd ever be typing that, but ig there's a first time for everything), SMUT UNDER THE CUT MDNI, fluff too hehe, anyway tell me if i missed anything

A/N: Hello, sorry for the vvvvvv late reply, i changed stuff a bit i think, i hope you like it🫶🩷

Being the absolute SIMP he is, Bucky would absolutely always be asking Wanda about you, if you'd be visiting, and just trying to fish for information.

Being Wanda's bestie meant having a good rapport with the Avengers, the security guard and the receptionist. You were there pretty often, so even FRIDAY could tell it was you so she just gave you entry.

You always did whip out your phone to open the camera in the elevator though, just in case your hair was weird or something was stuck in your teeth. It was usually likely that the adorable but dangerous Bucky Barnes was there amongst the others, and even though you didn't talk much, you'd developed a crush on him because of his sweet clumsy antics around you.

So, just like any other day, you were in the elevator, expecting Wanda to come running over to hug her as soon as the doors slid open. But, surprisingly, there was no one.

Even as you walked out, there wasn't anyone on the couch watching TV, or anyone in the kitchen getting a coffee or anything.

"Hey, FRIDAY?" You called out.

"Yes, Miss L/N?" The machine replied.

"Where is everyone?" You asked next.

"Most of them are in a meeting, Miss L/N. It will take some time to finish, I'm afraid."

"Oh," you said, looking around the empty room.

"Shall I call Miss Maximoff and tell her you're here?"

"No, that's okay," you dismissed, batting a hand as you plopped down on the couch. "I can wait."

After about ten minutes, you got bored. You didn't feel like scrolling or playing on your phone, so you just sighed, setting your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands.

Some heavy footsteps made your ears perk up though, and you turned your head to look at the person who'd just walked into the hall.

And then, immediately, your mind produced just one sound.

AWOOOGA!

Because apparently, Bucky in low-slung grey sweatpants and nothing on top made you think of that.

Bucky, on the other hand, wasn't able to breathe because of the endearing scene that was your cheeks squished in your own hands.

He had the urge to peck the lips that were open in a small o, to trace the shape of those soft lips.

You looked a bit shocked, and for good reason. Case in point:

He was half naked. His nipples were staring into your soul. You liked it.

There was one drop of water that was enjoying its journey down from his Adam's apple to the valley of his pecs and then his abs to a place that you'd only imagined on lonely nights.

Low. Hanging. Grey. Sweatpants.

So, nobody could blame you for staring, and wanting to lick his abs, which were still shining from the sheen of water. He was probably straight out of the gym shower after training, your short-circuited brain registered.

It still wasn't fair that he had a body that any warm-blooded human being would want to be crushed by.

Bucky finally noticed her staring at him, and through the haze of his imagination, he realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. A flush of red went up his body as he burrowed his hands in his pockets shyly, making them go a little bit lower, making your mouth water.

Your mind produced another visual, licking down that happy trail and then sucking him off like he was a lollipop. You couldn't help but brush your thighs together, feeling yourself get a little wet.

Bucky noticed the little action and his cheeks warmed even more with shyness and a little pride, because he found that he affected you just as much as you affected him.

"Like what you see, doll?" He asked, trying to hide his shyness behind a cocky smile.

Caught red handed, your eyes immediately flitted to his, blue eyes shining with adoration and just a little embarrassment.

You felt a rush of boldness as you got up, slowly making your way to him as his eyes widened, gulping at the way your hips swayed with so much intent in them.

When you reached him, you threw your arms around his neck, crossing your wrists behind his neck, your nails and fingertips, brushing against his skin.

Those featherlight touches were unintentional, but it lit his body on fire.

"Yeah," you whispered, tipping your head up to look into his wide, curious but scared eyes. "I like what I see."

Then, you did something that you only dreamed of every night.

You closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his. His eyes widened even more for a second, before he bent his head down and kissed you back, a hand pressing on the small of your back, and the other going around your waist.

He pressed your body to his as the sweet kiss you were hoping for turned into a heated one, as his tongue swiped at your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you granted.

His tongue made you forget every thought as he played with yours, exploring your mouth as your hands played with the small hairs that ended on the back of his neck.

He groaned into your mouth, his hands going to knead your ass as he reluctantly parted for breath.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed against your lips. "You taste like candy."

You just hummed as you pressed your lips to his jaw softly, making him squeeze your ass. "You wanna take this elsewhere?" You asked huskily before nibbling on his earlobe.

He growled as he kissed her again, this time his actions were almost desperate.

He picked her up, her thighs going around his hips as her ankles crossed at his ass.

As soon as they reached his bedroom and the door was closed with a kick, he lay her down on his bed and started undressing her, just barely stopping himself from ripping it all off.

He wanted you naked and bare, and he was desperate for it.

As soon as everything was off, he just took a minute to stare at you, all spread for him.

His mouth watered as his eyes roamed, lingering at your pretty breasts and your wet pussy.

His hot gaze made you squirm, your pussy starting to drip a bit and the sight made him scramble to get the sweatpants off.

His pretty cock sprang out against his abdomen, and good god, you needed him inside you, foreplay be damned.

He still did make sure to stretch you out a bit with his fingers, scissoring two of them inside you just so that he could make it hurt less.

"Shhh, now doll, I don't wanna hurt you," he said, tone low and soft as his thumb drew circles on your clit.

You were just a moaning mess when he finally rolled on a condom and rubbed his head against your soppy folds and pretty little clit.

He couldn't help but double over when he was almost fully in you, your cunt sucking him in, clamping around him so tight that he almost shoved the rest of it in.

"Bucky, oh my god," you gasped out as he rolled his hips and worked himself in you till those crisp hairs at his base were tickling at your clit.

He bit his lip as he laid down his full weight on you, head lovingly resting on the valley between your breasts, hips thrusting in slow, leisurely thrusts.

He won't deny the fact that he had imagined this every night in the shower before he retired to bed.

He also won't deny the fact that he'd imagined being rough with you. Had seen both against the wall as he thrust into you like a depraved man.

But at the moment, he preferred this. Slow, soft, with your breasts on either side of him as he leisurely thrust into you, hitting that gooey little spot as he did.

You were whining and moaning, your hands running through his hair and rubbing soothingly at his back.

He lifted his head and shifted up a bit to capture your lips with his, both his hands starting to knead your breasts, rough palms brushing against your already pointy nipples.

His thrusts sped up just a little, his lips kissing down to give your nipples the attention they were begging for.

He was alternating between both peaks, hips never relenting, never stopping as his hands played with both breasts.

You both started moving urgently as both neared your climax, your pussy clenching around him, almost making it hard for him to move.

But he only kissed you again, tongue playing with yours as his hand went down to brush the little bundle of nerves.

Your legs started quivering as he started drawing tight little figure eights, holding back and waiting for you to cum first.

You cried out as you went over the edge, thighs squeezing at his hips as your arms hugged his shoulders.

He gave you three more sharp thrusts before his orgasm, burying his face into your neck with a long, drawn out moan.

A few minutes later, after discarding the condom and cleaning you and himself up, he was getting in bed beside you, draping his arms around you and tangling his legs with yours under the covers.

You giggled when you felt him press your body against his with a satisfied hum. He looked down at you with a cute little smile, feeling sated and free and light.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, pecking your nose.

You giggled again, your happiness just bubbling out of you. He started pressing soft, featherlight kisses at every inch of your face, wanting to hear that laugh that he adored so much.

"Oh my god, stop," you said between laughs, wiggling under the covers.

He chuckled with you, looking at you with a look that melted your heart. "I love you, Y/N. I think I've loved you for a while now."

The confession made your heart skip a beat, a big smile on your face. "I love you too, Bucky."

Then, you both kissed again, this one sweet with the promise of unconditional love.

Meanwhile, outside his room, there was a bit of commotion.

FRIDAY had notified Wanda of your arrival when the meeting had ended, but strangely enough, you weren't there.

She and the others weren't particularly worried about you, but still, you have to be here somewhere, right?

After looking everywhere, they started wondering if you'd left, before Steve found Bucky's door open, just a smidge of a crack.

He opened the door and froze, his eyes widening with surprise as his mouth fell open with soft gasp. The gasp then turned into a relieved and wonderful smile, his eyes softening.

Sam, thinking he could get another picture of sleeping, angel-face Bucky for blackmail ran to stand beside him with his phone in hand.

But then, when he saw the scene of you two sleeping, he decided that this was much better for blackmail, grinning from ear to ear, even as he thanked the heavens for his friend's happiness.

[needtoloveoutloud]

Shadows Of Our Past, Present, and (possible) Future — Series

My Hero Academia — Female!OC Fanfiction on AO3

Part One (Completed — 93k words):

The one where Shota Aizawa stumbles upon a back alley full of stray cats and ends up adopting a child

“Fine, then a cat? We both know how much you love those little furry…things.” At this, Shota paused the game and turned to the pushy blonde next to him. “I actually have considered that.” “And?” “And: also, no. It makes no sense.” Hizashi looked almost scandalized. “Makes no sense?” “I made a pro and contra list.” “Of course you did.”

When underground hero Shota Aizawa, twenty-two years old, is out on patrol one Friday evening, he doesn't expect that a single meow from a cat would lead him to find a homeless girl called Yoru. From then on, Yoru and Shota grow up together, make mistakes together, and try to overcome every obstacle life throws at them.

>> Read on AO3 <<

Part Two (Ongoing, regular updates — growing long fic — 246k words so far — READ PART 1 FIRST, PLEASE AND THANK YOU):

The one where Yoru Aizawa tries to navigate through life at U.A.

Two days after her fifteenth birthday, Yoru decides to drop the bomb on him. “I want to go to U.A.” “You want to go to U.A.” Her Dad puts the book he's been reading down on the glass balcony table.  “Yes, I want to go to U.A.” She slumps down on the outdoor couch next to him, grabbing the discarded book. “What are you reading?” ‘A Book of Five Rings by Miyamoto Musashi — The classic guide to strategy ’. She raises an eyebrow. “Reading that for fun, huh?” “Why do you want to go to U.A.? You never cared much about heroes. Besides Edgeshot, that is.” Yoru smirks up at him. “What, jealous?” “As if.” “You know, even if they sold Eraserhead posters, I wouldn’t hang them up. It would be super weird.” “Good to know where your loyalties lie.” He rolls his eyes. “Back to the topic at hand, why do you want to go to U.A.? Because Shinso wants to go?” “No.” Pause. “Okay, that may be part of it. But I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and I really want to go.” “That might be so, but you still neglected to tell me why you want to attend there.” Yoru plays with her hair, noting how it’s time for another hair cut when she finds some splint ends. “I wanna be a hero.” Her Dad blinks. “A hero?” “Yes. Well, I want to help people and do some good with that shitty quirk of mine.”

When Yoru tells her Dad that she wants to attend U.A., she expects it to be a difficult path. She didn't expect all the awkwardness, blossoming friendships, confusing feelings, and near-death experiences, though.

>> Read on AO3 <<

Please heed the warnings/tags (TWs in the author's notes of chapters where they apply to).

This story is a mix of:

Slice of life

Hurt/Comfort

Angst/Fluff

Humor

Dadzawa

SLOW BURN Romance — Enemies to Lovers (Bakugo x Yoru)

Growing up, coming of age (hopefully lol)

Teenage awkwardness

Mixed media (pictures, music, chat screenshots (later on in Part 2), etc. — chat screenshots will always have the written text below, to make it accessible for visually impaired folks or people who use screen readers)

Author: NoBecksPleaseNo on AO3

Please don't copy the work, the character, the premise, etc. Also, no cross-posting anywhere, please and thank you.

Disclaimer: Yoru's image is AI generated and then edited/adjusted by the author. The other character images in the header are from Pinterest (besides the one of Present Mic/Midnight, that one's from the light novels) — unfortunately without a source. If you're the artist, and you're not okay with me using them, please message me and I will remove them. If you're the artist and are okay with me using them, please tell me, so I can credit you.

Besides the OC characters, I don't own any already existing characters from the My Hero Academia Universe — that honor belongs to Kohei Horikoshi.

[sissy-cheri-949-usa]

FEMINIZATION STEP #1 - PANTY HIM

One of the best ways to feminize a man, is to make him wear “girl clothes”. Putting your sissy (CD/TV) in panties is a great way to begin the process of his transformation.

Start off easy with panties. I’m thinking a soft color like pink, white, lavender or yellow. You're initial timing is crucial! Start with a Friday/Saturday night at home, watching movies, etc.. Then as things move to the bedroom, give him a night to remember, while he is pantied. Then don't say anything for a few days. Let his psyche absorb it. Next weekend, repeat; etc.. Keep This up for several weeks/months. What you are doing is IMPRINTING his psyche. He will associate the panties, to the great nights with you.

As for style of panties, anything works, but I would recommend something really sissy like full cut. You want as mush silk/satin touching his skin as possible. When we get to man-scaping, this will become apparent what we are trying to do. Make sure to try different styles initially, so he can experience things, full-cut, etc. Keep him guessing, and anticipating.

Later, we will get to his second pair of panties. Sissy's should always wear 2 pair of panties (to be explained later). But a nice thong or G-string feel perfect when he is plugged. A first pair can be used to "contain" (granny panties), with a second ultra-frilly pair on top. Also, first pair can have "rear-access" hole, for Mistress, while second pair are at sissy's ankles, etc.. Lots of scenarios.

After he has become used to being pantied on the weekends, we move to weekdays, under his male clothes. Start slow, maybe 1 day per week. Start with Fridays, as to build anticipation for the weekend. Then the weekend can include ultra-feminine panties like super, frilly, little girl panties. It's hard to be "manly" when wearing Princess panties !!!

When you have him wearing panties like a good boy, s/he’ll be so much more submissive and willing to please! When alone at home, make sure they are super frilly !!!

Wearing panties daily is a must for a sissy so s/he better get used to the feel and look of them!

P.S. one great idea is to have him match the color of his chastity cage with his panties. For example, if he is wearing a pink cage, have him wear pink panties as well!

For work, it doesn't matter if he still wears boxers over his panties. You just want him pantied, and not to be exposed. This is YOUR SECRET. This builds intimacy and trust in your relationship.

If you found this article helpful please reblog. There are many Cross-Dressers & their Wives who need to know. Comments are welcome; please be nice, so I can learn to improve.

All Feminization Steps Here

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

The first time Steve touches the guitar Eddie makes a strangled sound in his throat. Steve freezes, looks at Eddie, his mouth is hanging open, and he's frowning. Steve sets the guitar back down, so fucking gently.

"Sorry. I just- sorry." He nearly whispers, stands back up, back straight, his palms moving over his thighs. Eddie clears his throat, shakes his head, removes his black guitar from his lap as he stands.

"No it's okay. I didn't mean to like... make that weird fucking sound. Just um... it was my moms." He says, his hand wrapped around the neck of the black guitar as he holds it at his side. Steve's eyes go wide.

"Shit. I'm sorry. I wouldn've-"

"It's okay really. Here. You can use this one." He holds the guitar out. Smiles when Steve steps closer, hesitant as he raises his hand. Eddie nods. Steve takes it, climbs onto Eddie's bed awkwardly and sets it in his lap. Watching as Eddie gently picks up his mothers guitar and sits back down.

Eddie smiles at Steve, strums a few notes.

"Do you play?" He asks, because Steve's never said anything about playing. Never touched one of Eddie's guitars before. But Eddie had noticed him watching, as Eddie plays, or writes songs, while they hang out.

Steve's at his house a lot these days. Eddie feels like they might be dancing around something. But he hasn't been brave enough to make a move. Or even ask a question. They just... spend time together. He's been teaching Steve about DND for Dustin’s upcoming birthday. Steve wants to surprise him. And he'd been letting Steve read his copies of Lord of the Rings. It's been taking him a while.

But he lays on Eddie's bed while he reads, feet kicked out in the air above him when he lays on his stomach, as Eddie plans his campaigns, or writes songs, and tries not to think about how Steve looks like he belongs there, in Eddie's bed, frowning down at Eddie's tattered books until he looks up and asks Eddie to explain something for him.

And Eddie does. Always.

But this is new. Steve holds Eddie's guitar in his lap, a soft smile on his face, his fingers holding the neck gently. He shakes his head at Eddie's question, just the smallest movement.

"Naw. I always wanted to learn. But my dad always said-" he cuts off, his eyes jumping to Eddie, his cheeks flushing a little. Eddie's never met Steve's father, but he's sure he could guess some of the things he'd said. Steve shakes his head again, tries to smile.

"I just never got around to it. And then things went to shit around here so..." he shrugs, moves his thumb over the strings. Eddie smiles at the sound.

"I like how it feels. Holding it though." Steve says, blinks up at Eddie. Eddie wills his mouth to work, to say something, to say fucking anything, but it doesn't. He just smiles, softly, and nods. Steve looks away, back down at the guitar, and Eddie does the same. Fingers moving over his mother's guitar as he tries to work out the next verse he's writing.

~°~

Two months later he still hasn't said anything. But they have a rhythm now. Eddie's at home, doing whatever it is he's doing that day. Planning, or drawing, or writing. Maybe even just watching tv. Steve shows up, goes to his room, gets the black guitar, and sits with it in his lap, some days until he leaves. And Eddie sits, and watches him, and tries to will himself to say something.

It's a friday. It's raining. And Steve gets off work early, comes to Eddie's. Like always.

He takes a shower, changes clothes, and then crawls into Eddie's bed, guitar settled in his lap. Eddie looks up from his notebook, watches Steve's brow furrow as he moves his fingers over the strings. Just positioning them, not making any sound. Turns out that's all it takes, Steve's little frown.

"I could teach you." Eddie blurts, Steve startles, just a bit, a small flinch before his eyes move to Eddie, brows raised.

"Ya know if you- if you'd want... that." Eddie's lame attempt to backpeddle falling out of his mouth in fragments. But Steve smiles, big and bright.

"Yeah? You'd do that?" He asks, his hand flat against the guitar now, he's practically cradling it to his chest, holding it to himself like it's something special.

Eddie shrugs, tries to play it cool.

"I mean yeah. It's not a big deal. Just, guitar. Kinda my thing." He huffs a laugh when Steve's smile grows impossibly bigger.

"Can we start now? Or are you- you're busy. Planning stuff." Steve voice drifts to a soft dismissive tone, like he's talking himself down. And Eddie hates it. Hates that he's been conditioned to talk himself down from his own excitement. Eddie slaps his notebook shut with a purpose. The noise loud in the quiet room.

"We can absolutely start now. C'mhere." He moves from his desk to the edge of the bed, reaches for his moms guitar, stops, thinks better of it and just settles his hands on his thighs as Steve shuffles to the edge of the bed to sit next to him.

Eddie watches him look at him, waiting, and so fucking close. He can hear the rain on the roof outside.

"Where do we start?" Steve asks, his hands flexing as Eddie watches him.

"I'm gonna teach you some notes. See how well you pick it up." Eddie says, trying hard to keep the smile on his face to a minimum. Steve nods, serious.

"What if I suck at it?" Steve asks, his fingers fluttering nervously over the strings. Eddie looks at him, narrows his eyes.

"You've never played before? At all?" He asks, head tilting. Steve shakes his slowly, his cheeks tinting as he looks at his knees.

"Well then, and I hate to break this to you sweetheart, but you're probably gonna suck. At least a little. At first." Eddie scrunches his nose, delights in the way Steve's mouth drops open as he looks Eddie.

"You gonna be able to handle that? Not being perfect?" Eddie twitches his head to the side, bumps his shoulder into Steve's, Steve rolls his eyes, bumps Eddie back.

"I'll do my best." He huffs, his brow furrowing again as Eddie begins to guide him.

He plays something small, shows Steve how he moves his fingers, and then lets Steve mimic him. He picks it up pretty quick. His ears and cheeks flushing a pretty red when Eddie complements him, tells him he's doing good.

It takes Steve about three hours to realize Eddie had been teaching him a DIO song. He rolls his eyes again, shoves Eddie off the edge of the bed, but goes red again when Eddie says he's proud of him for recognizing it at all.

~°~

A week later, Steve comes rushing into his room, guitar in hand. Eddie had let him take the black acoustic home, so he could practice there as well. He stops short, his legs bumping into Eddie's bed, and then he looks, shy.

"Well good morning to you too Harrington." Eddie sighs, yawns, stretches his hands above his head and smirks as Steve's eyes trail over his stomach, his shirt riding up off his hips.

"Yeah. Morning." Steve says, his voice distant, eyes still focused on Eddie's mid section.

"What can I do you for?" Eddie asks, smirk planted firmly on his lips now. Steve's body jerks, just a fraction, as he tears his eyes away from Eddie's hips, to look at his face.

"What?" He asks, sounding startled. Eddie laughs, shakes his head.

"Forget it. What's up? You looked excited." Eddie says with a shake of his head, pushing himself up in bed a bit. Steve's eyes move to the ground, his fingers tighten on the neck of the guitar.

"I just- wanted to show you something. But you like... just woke up. Did I wake you up?" Steve asks, his voice going high like he's just realized he may have woken Eddie up. Eddie shakes his head, rubs at his eyes, holds back another yawn.

"Whaaaat? No. I've been up for ages." He smiles, watches Steve's face drop.

"Really?" His eyes narrowing as they move over Eddie, pajamas still wrinkled, hair a fucking mess he's sure.

"Yep. Been awake for hours. I mean I woke up at like- what time is it?" He looks at the watch on his wrist, his eyes bugging out.

"It's 7am!?" His voice is high, incredulous, he sounds... maybe a little disgusted. Steve clears his throat, his free hand going to his hip as he looks down at Eddie. Eddie clears his own throat, crossing his arms, schools his face.

"I mean... it's 7am. Which I knew. Because I've been awake since like... 5 o'clock. So 7am is the perfect time. For you to show up here. In my trailer." He glances to the small window in the door outside his room, his face falling a bit.

"Before the sun has risen, even. How... wonderful." His voice is flat by the time he finishes speaking, and he can see Steve trying not to laugh at him.

"I'm sorry I woke you up." He says, and he sounds so sincere Eddie can't even really be mad. He will be taking a nap later though, for sure. He yawns, waves his hand.

"It's fine babe. Just show me whatcha got." He wiggles his fingers at the guitar and Steve flushes, nods, and steps back, sits himself in Eddie's desk chair, and moves the guitar into his lap.

Eddie's heart flutters as Steve starts playing. It always does. Ever since that first day when Steve had picked up the DIO rif he'd shown him. It had been small, but he'd looked so proud of himself when his fingers had danced across the strings perfectly, bringing the tune to life.

Eddie smiles when he recognizes the song, some Billy Joel number Steve was always humming. Eddie had actually been playing peices of it here and there recently, sometimes, without paying attention. But it reminded him of Steve, and so his fingers tended to play it when his mind began to drift.

He smiles as he watches Steve play, his hair falling in his face a little, his brows knitted together in concentration. Eddie bites his lip and refuses to think about moving his fingers over those furrowed brows. Refuses to think about how Steve might let him. Refuses to think about how soft Steve's skin might feel underneath his calloused fingers.

Steve's own fingers pick that moment to stumble, he misses notes, trips up, flushes deeply and curses himself, his head hanging as he stops, takes a deep breathe.

Eddie was proud, he'd gotten better at dealing with messing up. But he could tell he was upset.

"Steve." He says name gently, too genlty, maybe, for this quiet morning in the dark. Steve huffs, but looks up at him.

"I always fuck that part up. It's too fast." He sighs, his voice harsh, he's being hard on himself. And Eddie doesn't know if it's the early morning hour, or the fact that it's still quite dark in his room, or maybe it's the fact that he hadn't slept much and now Steve was in his room. But he scoots back, just a bit, and pats the bed, swinging his legs over the edge.

And his chest flutters again when Steve doesn't even hesitate to come and sit beside him. Doesn't flinch away when Eddie presses close, moves his arm around Steve, curls his fingers over his on the guitar.

He does feel Steve's breathe catch when Eddie sighs across his neck, but he keeps the smirk off his face. Instead he strums the guitar, moves his fingers quickly, hitting the notes that Steve missed with ease. And he almost laughs when Steve turns, his shoulder pressing into Eddie's chest as he gapes at him.

"How did you- you know how to play this song?" Steve asks, his eyes wide. Eddie shrugs, his eyes dropping to Steve's lips, he's so close.

"Parts of it. You hum it a lot." Eddie says, almost whispers between them. Steve's face does some strange movement, jumping between a smile and frown and back again.

"Wait, have you never even heard the song?" Steve asks, his voice accusing.

"I dunno. Maybe like once. It was on in your car that time right?" Eddie shrugs again, looks away from Steve, his cheeks heating in the dark, with Steve so close. And Eddie is still sleep warm, and he swears Steve keeps leaning back into his chest.

"You're not even sure if you've heard the song and you can just play it like that!?" Steve asks, his voice a little louder now. But there's an amused edge to it that Eddie can't shake.

"Yeah. I'm-" he stops, swallows, his palms are starting to sweat so he moves his hands away from Steve's, hears him make a small sound in his throat, and finally, looks back at Steve's face. His features have softened, his eyes still sparkling with amusement, but there's something else there too.

"You can just play things by ear like that?" Steve asks, his voice soft, he's looking at Eddie, really looking at him in the low light of Eddie's room. And Eddie's arms are still wrapped half around him, he swallows, and nods.

"Guess so. Never been great at actually reading music. I don't focus well." He scrunches his nose.

"No. You?" Steve teases, and Eddie feels any lingering insecurities wash away. He shrugs.

"Yeah. I wasn't sure I could teach you actually. And I might have you all messed up. But you're good. Real good." He says it softly, and feels, without a doubt, Steve lean back, pressing his back into Eddie's chest.

"I think you're a good teacher. Maybe a little impatient sometimes." Steve elbows him gently. Eddie flushes, his hand moving to Steve's shoulder.

"Shit was I? I was trying really hard not to be." He frowns, and then Steve is turning, letting the guitar slip slowly to the floor. Eddie gulps, Steve's face is so close, and he's so warm pressed against him. And Eddie might have a real issue here soon if Steve doesn't move out his space.

"No it wasn't bad. I- I kinda like you impatient. You get bossy." Steve laughs, a small, giddy sounding thing, light in his throat. Eddie feels like he might vibrate out of his skin. Steve's hands move to his shirt, resting against his chest.

"You uh- you like when I'm bossy?" Eddie asks, his voice shaking, his hands trembling at his sides, he's moved them away from Steve. Doesn't want him to feel him shaking. Steve nods, once.

"Kinda yeah. Is that bad?" Steve asks, his eyes squinting, nose scrunching. And he sounds like he might be genuinely asking, like Eddie has any fucking clue.

"I don't think so. I'm sure it's fine. I-" Eddie stammers, is about to keep talking, not sure what's gonna come out of his mouth if he does. But Steve beats him to it.

"Why did you offer to teach me to play?" Steve asks, his thumbs move over Eddie's chest gently. Eddie feels his entire body flushing. He doesn't wanna talk about this. Not with Steve. He doesn't wanna scare him away. But Steve is looking at him, soothing his fingers into Eddie's shirt like he knows Eddie feels like he might float away. Like he's trying to ground him. Eddie licks his lips, sinks his teeth into his bottom one, and frowns.

"You can say it. It's okay." Steve assures him, a soft whisper between them.

"I thought you wanted to learn." Eddie says, his voice weak, unsure. Steve nods, slowly, one hand moving up, his fingers gently moving over the hot skin of Eddie's neck. Eddie makes a small wounded sound in his throat, and he swears Steve's eyes darken.

"That all?" Steve asks, his thumb pressing into the rapid heartbeat in Eddie's throat. Eddie shakes his head.

"I wanted to be close to you. But I didn't think that you'd want that... like that. With me. So-" he cuts off, swallows again, his breathe catching in throat. Steve softens in front of him, melts impossibly closer.

"So you offered to teach me to play. And then you curled yourself around me. Touched me. Moved me around like clay in your hands." Steve whispers, pressing closer, and Eddie can't breathe. And he feels guilty, all of a sudden. It burns in his throat, choking him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have done that." He stammers, and he tries to pull away from Steve, weakly. But Steve is stronger, holds him in place, and moves closer, his lips pressing to Eddie's ear.

"Don't be sorry. I liked it. Liked the way you moved me, and touched me, and taught my hands how to move and make music. I liked you pressed against me Eddie." He moved back, smiling at the whine that escaped Eddie's throat.

"I like you. Is- is that okay?" Steve looks shy, somehow, as he says this. After he's set every nerve ending in Eddie's body alight. Eddie nods. His body trembling now.

"Can I kiss you?" Steve breathes between, his hands moving to Eddie's cheeks now, holding him gently, the way he always holds Eddie's guitar.

"Yeah." Eddie nods. Steve smiles. And then a jolt of fear runs through Eddie, his hands land on Steve's chest, harder than he means too, holding him back.

Steve's brow furrows.

"What is it?" He asks, and Eddie almost laughs in his face, he sounds so concerned. But Eddie clears his throat, his eyes falling to his lap.

"I don't know how." He says, his voice so quiet he's not sure Steve will hear him. But it's early morning, and his room is quiet as the sun rises, filling the room with a warm glow, and of course Steve hears him, Steve always hears him. His hands moves under Eddie's chin, lifts head til he's looking at him. And Eddie watches Steve watch him, watches the sweet crooked smile that tilts Steve lips, his breath hitching in his chest as Steve moves his thumb over Eddie's bottom lip.

"I could teach you." Steve says, echoing Eddie's offer from all those weeks ago, and Eddie feels weak. His body shaking as he nods, his mouth frozen. Steve pulls him closer, his hand moving down Eddie's neck again.

"What if I suck at it?" Eddie asks, a wobbly smile fluttering across his face as he echoes Steve, and opens the door for Steve to tell him he will. That he will suck at it, at first, like Eddie had told him. But Steve's eyes darken again, his tongue running along his bottom lip as he stares at Eddie's mouth. Eddie feels trapped, in the best possible way, trapped under Steve's gaze. Steve's head moves slowly, side to side, his eyes still locked on Eddie's lips, Eddie feels Steve's fingers curl into his shirt near his ribs as he pulls him a fraction closer.

"With a mouth like that? I don't think that's possible." He breathes, and Eddie nearly fucking swoons, his hands fisting in Steve's shirt on his chest. Steve smirks at him them, moves the hand near his ribs around Eddie's back, holds him tight.

"I bet you're a natural. And if you're not," Steve presses his lips to Eddie's nose, pulls back.

"I'm willing to teach you. You'll be perfect when I'm done with you." Steve whispers, like it's a secret. It makes Eddie shiver.

"I might be a slow learner?" Eddie asks, his voice shaking but he's teasing now, and Steve smirks again, his fingers curling up into Eddie's hair and pulling, tilting his head to the side.

"God I fucking hope so." Steve almost growls the words against Eddie's lips and then he's kissing him. And despite the growl, and the low dip of his voice, the kiss is sweet. And slow.

Steve moves his lips genlty, let's Eddie get a feel for it. And, to Eddie's relief, doesn't deepen the kiss. His body is so overwhelmed already, he's sure Steve's tongue in his mouth would just send him into a meltdown.

But Steve doesn't press. He just kisses Eddie. Slow. Moves his lips over Eddie's, hums into the kiss when Eddie moves his hand into Steve's hair, hesitant, his hand shaking. Steve's arm around him pulls him closer, until he's tugged Eddie into his lap.

Eddie whimpers as Steve holds him, does his best to kiss Steve back, moves his lips the way he feels Steve's moving against his. Steve pulls back first, his hands moving up Eddie’s back. Eddie frowns down at him.

"Was that okay?" He asks, his fingers drumming nervously against Steve's shoulders. Steve smiles up at him, kisses him again, and Eddie's not sure he'll ever be over that warm press of soft skin.

"It was perfect." Steve says, tucks a lock of Eddie's sleep disheveled hair behind his ear.

"You're good at that." Eddie says, his body shaking against Steve. Steve smiles, and then moves, quick, he flips them over, landing on top of Eddie, hovering over him, his hands planted near his head. Steve leans down, presses close.

"Thank you. So are you." He moves his fingers over Eddie's cheek, fingertips tracing the jagged scar there. Eddie's brow twitches, he tries not to frown. Steve dips, presses his lips to the scar.

"Wanna make a deal?" He asks, lifting back up to look at Eddie.

"Sure. What deal?" Eddie agrees, before he even knows what it is. Steve smiles.

"I'll keep kissing you later. If you-" he stops, looks unsure as he looks down at Eddie. So Eddie reaches up, cups Steve cheek, because he can now.

"If I what?" Eddie whispers.

"If you hold me while we go back to sleep." Steve sounds shy, after everything that just happened.

Eddie smiles up at him, moves his fingertips over Steve's lips now.

"I'll hold you whenever you want. Just don't ever stop kissing me." Eddie says, tugging Steve down on top of him, Steve laughs against his lips and then sighs, deep, and happy, as Eddie wraps his arms around him.

Steve cuddles closer, presses his face into Eddie's chest and just breathes. Eddie listens to his breathing until they both drift off, the sun finally pulling itself over the horizon, Eddie and Steve's shared guitar temporarily forgotten, resting on the floor.

[yuquinzel]

[ 8:37 pm ] — miya atsumu.

the clock reads 8:37 pm, exactly 14 seconds to 38 and atsumu is painfully aware of each long, dragging and excruciatingly endless second because it's been exactly 4 hours, 19 minutes and 12 seconds since you left on him read.

he's currently laid on his bed, in his dimly lit room where the only source of illumination is the faint fluorescent glow of his mobile screen.

he's frowning, brows furrowed at the dull ‘seen 4hrs ago’ in anticipation because at any second now he'll see the ‘typing...’ indication and he doesn't wanna be late to reply.

atsumu is a fast and an energetic texter. he sends you at least 14 cat videos with the “ur the third one” message immediately after each. or he sends you those ‘ask your friend which hour of the day you are’ followed by a “you. blue hour” hopefully awaiting your reply because he needs to know if you think he's the golden hour or not.

y/n 🛐: you're definitely the golden hour then lol

the better twin: damn. didn't expect that.

he actually did. hoped for it in fact. he thinks about it for the next week.

you're not the type to leave people on seen for more than 5 minutes. at least not him. you reply as quick as you can with the same energy as him and have a habit of liking his rather funny texts from time to time.

so he's more confused than upset right now, thinking of all possible reasons you could've read his messages but were unable to reply. he hasn't seen you since last friday when you told him about a week long road trip with your family. his frown only deepens when the clock hits 8:40 and there's no sign of a reply from you.

he's beginning to type a quick “are u good?” when his screen flashes with a call. your contact name. the phone rings in atsumu's hand but his fingers are frozen.

you're calling him.

you don't like phone calls.

atsumu clears his throat because he doesn't want you to hear him squeal with excitement, but he's giggling and kicking his feet, running a hand over his heart and rubbing his eyes to make sure it really is you. he lets the phone ring for a mere seconds before picking it up, “oh hey” he hopes it's as casual as he thinks.

the moment he hears you speak from the other side, atsumu knows he has lost, “ATSUMU! I'm so sorry for leaving you on read. i was in the car and battery fucking died before i could reply and i lost my charger!” you're chasing after your own words, each cut by the next one.

“oh, nah that's fine. so ya found yer charger?” he groans internally at his words, but truthfully he doesn't know what to say.

of course you didn't willingly leave him on read. of course you're calling him now because you don't want him to think otherwise. of course your words are rushed, you've always been that way.

“oh, right yeah. i got home and charged it as soon as I could” you laugh with a newfound sense of relief.

atsumu blinks, “yer home already? weren'tcha coming this sunday??” he asks.

“ohh, no, we decided to come back earlier”

and the voice call ends, leaving you confused.

it's 9:29 pm and there's a knocking at your door, hastened and impatient, the way you know someone always knocks.

“’tsumu? wait, why are you here at this hour?” you ask, wide eyes set on the setter in front of you panting like he ran a marathon.

“ya said you were back and ya must be tired so i gotcha ice cream—” he breathes out, gesturing to the bag in his hand, “—gee, coulda told me you were comin’ back today, when'd ya get here anyway? how was the trip? did ya take pictures?—”

“atsumu” you say softly, and he pauses, “breathe ”

atsumu lives about 45 minutes away, 15 if he takes the car but as he's panting right now, you know he's ran all the way here. and if he stopped by the convenience store down the street and still get here in time, you're sure he needs at least a minute to breathe.

he smiles one of his boyish, princely smiles, “also got that movie ya wanted ta watch”

“i thought you'd have watched it already?”

“wanted ta watch it with you” he's giggling with excitement you know he's trying to hide.

“okay” you laugh, grabbing his hand to pull him inside.

“okay” he repeats.

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

[a-doubleh-x]

Buttonblossom Analysis in TADC Episode 2

(Background rainbows: hint, hint)

Ragatha was so sweet to Pomni in episode 2 🥺💖 Most people caught onto the obvious fact that Raggs is being codependant and leans onto toxic positivity on the way she tries to cheer up Pomni, but I still think for the most part her heart is in the right place.

I liked their dynamic in episode 1, but I liked it so much in 2 I decided to write a little analysis on it (plus the ship fuel 👀) in preparation for the romance fic I'm writing about them.

Without further ado, let's go!

Looking back at Ragatha, on the good side, she made some very strong, active efforts to help her during her transition into the digital realm. She checked first thing in the morning if she was okay, she tried to make her feel included in the adventure at the beginning and showed care for her safety overall.

My favorite scene, though, is when the circus gang falls into the fudge river and after checking in on them, the first thing she says is: "Poor Pomni!" 😭 Girlie is so empathetic she even manages to care for someone who's not even there, while she's in a terrible situation herself!

I think this proves how much of a good person Raggs is. She doesn't just help people to feel good or superior, she does it because she geniuenly cares for other people's wellbeing and I find that very noble 😊

On the negative side, she seems to have some very particular communication issues with Pomni, even though she seems to be the circus memeber she cares the most about at the moment.

For starters, her attitude comes off as a little condescending very often. She hardly asks questions to Pomni and tends to assume for her. She hardly acknowledges some of her struggles and tries to downplay them, like when she degrades their experience as "larping". Also, she makes Pomni feel like a child when she tries to "hype her up" in her own words.

If we take Pomni's nightmare into consideration, it seems she believes Ragatha thinks Pomni is not "cut out for it", which might be a result of her condescending behavior I just mentioned.

This makes sense to me and also sheds a little bit of light on how Pomni sees herself as: small and insignificant. It's unclear at the moment how she was before on the physical world, but I speculate based on this evidence she probably didn't think she had much agency in her life (just how she feels in the circus).

At the end, however, thanks to her experience with Gummigoo and looking at the crew grief over Kaufmo's abstraction, Pomni opens herself more to the crew, which is a very good sign.

I think her current dynamic with Ragatha is wicked cool! ✨️ There's a lot of room for growth, which is good in my opinion. Ragatha clearly cares a lot about Pomni and I think with time she could grow to reciprocate her as well.

Despite her cowardness in episode 1, I always had the feeling that Pomz was deep down a caring individual as well, which was solidly proven in 2 with her interactions with Gummi.

On the fanon side, I saw a lot of fans foaming at the mouth (myself included) over the fact that Ragatha was such a tryhard with Pomni (which was anticipated to be the contrary). Some fans have interpreted their potential dynamics as both being shy, which I really, really like.

I believe I will definitely include that in my future fanfic. Another idea I wanted to explore is Pomni talking to Ragatha about her overbearing issues, while still appreciating her good qualities at the same time.

I think it's going to be great ☺️❤ I already look forward to what the end result is going to be. I love mutual pining and I love sweet lesbians caring for each other (even when they're silly girlfails). I'm planning to start by submitting chapter 1 by next Friday and submit a new one every following one, as I've done before.

Get ready for digital lesbian shenanigans 🎪💙🎀 See ya!

[eddiesbandana]

Your bleeding

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n was making dinner for her boyfriend matt. and of course, his two brothers, nick and chris. but what happens when she cuts herself on accident and doesn't notice until matt points it out.

warnings: blood. that's it

a/n: please bare with me as im new to this writing scheme. if it's bad or not good, please let me know, and i will do better. this is also rly short bc i have no ideas.

It was a Thursday night in the Sturniolo household. Nick, who is sitting on the couch editing Friday's new video, Chris drinking Pepsi as always, Matt sitting in the kitchen on his phone talking with his girlfriend y/n who was making dinner for them. Chris decided to go into the kitchen to see what his sister-in-law was making. "What's for dinner, I am starving." Y/n looked at him and grinned."Pasta, but not just any kind of pasta. It's my grandma's secret recipe. " She smiled at her boyfriend, who is now standing next to her. Matt kissed her forehead. "It smells amazing, baby." She smiles. "Can one of you stir the pasta? I need to cut up the tomatoes." Chris nods and stirs the noodles. Matt watches his girlfriend in awe as she cuts the tomatoes. "Hey, I was thinking. What if we go out on a date this weekend? We haven't done that in a while, " Y/n looks up, still cutting and raises her eyebrows. "A date huh, what kind of date are you thinking?" Matt chuckles. "Oh, I don't know, dinner? A movie, maybe get ice cream afterward." He looks down and sees blood. "Babe!" Y/n looks confused as she doesn't feel any pain,"Matt? What's the matter? Looks like you've seen a ghost, " Matt calls for Nick,"Nick! Nick, we need gauze and a lot of it!". Nick jumps up and runs to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he comes out with gauze, paper towels, and bandaids. "Here." Y/n then realized she had cut herself, looking down at the blood. "Oh my god. Oh my god." Matt."You're bleeding! Here, let's wash it with warm water." Chris looks sick as he has a weak stomach, and then passes faints, and Nick is cleaning up the mess.

After Y/n is bandaged up, they sit down and eat. She looks down at her finger or where the tip of her finger once was. "Man, I never thought I would slice the tip of my finger off." She says as she takes a bite of her food and looks at her finger. Chris looks at her. "Please don't talk about that. While I am eating. I already passed out, and I don't want to do it again." Nick slaps him across the back of his head. "He's joking. I'm glad you're ok."

Matt looks at his girlfriend and kissed her forehead. "Yeah, thankfully it wasn't worse." She smiles, thankful of her family around her.

[natti-ice]

Never Been Kissed- Tom Riddle.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x fem!reader

You go out at night to meet a friend, and end up forming a new relationship.

Warnings: OOC Tom riddle, set in the Marauders era!

Author’s note: this is a reuploaded and modified fic I wrote a while ago!

Reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated<3

Sneaking out of your dorm room, you make your way up to the astronomy to meet Sirius Black. This was a normal occurrence, you two would meet every Friday to talk about what happened that week or what's been bothering them and just goof off. You and Sirius have been friends since first year and last year you two started this tradition of meeting weekly. Since you're both in your last year at Hogwarts, it's hard to make time to see each other during normal hours.

Crossing the castle careful not to run into Filch or worse Mrs. Norris... the biggest snitch in town. Thankfully you have never been caught, can't say the same for Sirius, that boy makes so much noise wherever he goes. After climbing the crazy amount of stairs to the top of the tower finally you see the clear night sky. It was truly a beautiful sight, the early November night was chilly but not bad enough for a jacket.

You're always the first one there, arriving at around 11:40 pm, but Sirius shows up fashionably late at midnight, making you wait.

Tonight he seemed to be taking his sweet time because your watch is reading 12:18 am. Maybe he's having a hard time picking out an outfit or got attacked by a wild banshee, maybe he just forgot? You thought to yourself. Knowing him, he probably had some superficial reason as to why he didn't come to see his favorite person at Hogwarts. You waited until 12:40 a whole hour late and finally decided Sirius Black had flaked on you.

It didn't hurt your feelings much since it was the first time it ever happened, but you're a little irritated that you wasted an hour doing nothing. You're a night owl so you aren't very tired, you decide to explore the school for a while. Standing up from the wood-paneled floor, you let your legs take you wherever.

You walk down many corridors, peaking into abandoned classrooms here and there while also keeping an eye out for Filtch. Eventually, you find yourself outside of the castle and decide to go by the lake, you always wondered what it looked like at night. Walking around the lake at night is kinda creepy when you think about it but you also find it oddly calming. You don't stray too far away from the castle just in case you need to make a run for it, you find a tall oak tree and sit under it.

Lost in thought thinking about everything and nothing, you failed to hear the footsteps approaching you rather quickly.

"Good evening." A voice pulls you out of your thoughts, You look up and see it's the one and only Tom Riddle. He was hovering above you, his signature smirk on his face.

"Uh... hi Tom" You reply a little startled

"Why are you out here so late?" He asks calmly

"Oh um, no reason, I normally-" you say when something comes to mind "Hang on, aren't you a prefect?"

"I am." He says with a hint of arrogance and pride in his voice

"You're not gonna write me up are you?" You ask calmly but on the inside you're praying he'll cut you some slack.

"No, no I'm off duty right now." With a slight smirk on his face, he replied "I'm breaking curfew as well" he whispers almost playfully

You chuckle softly, feeling immediately relieved "Alright then... would you like to sit?"

He doesn't reply with words but with actions, he sits down next to you. Not too close but not too far, a respectable distance.

You and Tom weren't close by any means, you had only met this year in potions class. Tom being known as the introverted Slytherin who had a way with the teachers. You who laughed with your friends and wasn't an overachiever but still had good grades nonetheless. Slughorn decided to pair people who he thought would sort of yin Yang each other so that's why you two sat together.

Not speaking, you sat in awkward silence. The wind tussling the trees filling the air, the night got colder since you left your dorm, now you wished you had brought a jacket. You rub your hands up and down your arms trying to warm up

"Are you cold?" Tom asks noticing your slight shivering

"Kinda... yeah" you replied

"Here take my sweater" he said pulling off his grey cable knit sweater

"Oh you don't have to-"

"Just take it... please." He said the last part softer

He had a hard time controlling his temper at times, he was working on not letting little things get to him.

"Thank you." You softly smiled at him, a small silence falls over you two as you put on his sweater. Wanting the conversation to continue you ask, "Did you see professor Dumbledore's outfit today?"

The both of you engrossed yourselves in conversation for 15 minutes straight jumping from topic to topic. Once you started talking it felt like you had been talking to each other for years.

"And then I bit her." You admitted embarrassedly after telling him a story of an altercation you had with a girl a few years ago.

"You bit her?!?" Tom asks with a shocked expression

"I did, I didn't mean to it was just instinct I guess."

"Wow remind me never to do that to you" Tom laughs

"It was so embarrassing it keeps me up at night" you sigh as you remember the embarrassment. "Okay, I have to know something embarrassing about you now." You say trying to divert the attention off of you

"What? Why?" He says with a puzzled look

"I mean, it's only fair"

He sighs "Ok ok fine, umm... I haven't had my first kiss." He swallowed

"I'm being serious Tom." You chuckle not believing him for one second

"So am I." Tom said with a straight face

"Oh." Your laughter immediately stops

"Is that so surprising?" He asks, almost sounding irritated by your response

"Actually yes, yes it is" You stated

"How?" He was genuinely curious about what she thought of him

"I mean, I figured you would've had a girlfriend or something. Like you're attractive and not terribly hard to get along with." You laugh softly while explaining

He suppressed his smile before he spoke next to not let you know how much your words affect him.

"No, no girlfriend. It's not that I'm waiting or anything, the moment just hasn't come I guess. Sometimes I just want to get it over with"

A pause

"I'll do it." You speak, not knowing what came over you

"Excuse me?" He questioned

"I'll kiss you" you offer

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, friends help each other out, right? It's up to you" you say not wanting to push him into anything.

He wondered if he should or not, he always thought you beautiful. He never had the courage to talk to you until he was paired with you in potions. What if I suck at it? What if she doesn't like it and tells all her friends? He thought. No, stop you'll be fine just go for it.

"Okay" he replied

He said yes, he actually said yes. You didn't think he would actually say yes but he did. You were very thankful he did because that would've been embarrassing if he said no.

You scoot closer to him slightly to close the gap between you. You search his eyes trying to find any ounce of doubt, you felt butterflies as what was about to happen hits you completely.

"Ready?" You whisper

"Yeah" he whispers back flicking his eyes down at your lips then back to your gaze. Slowly moving his head forward.

Copying his motion you lean in. As your lips connect your eyes flutters closed, Tom brings his right hand up to gently cradle your face. Rhythmically you two move your mouths as one, in a sweet gentle kiss.

After a few seconds he pulls away, both of your faces feel red hot. Not sure what to do next Tom clears his throat and looks down at his watch.

"It's late... we should probably go back to the castle" he says

"Yeah you're right" you agree feeling embarrassed

Tom rises first, he offers you a hand. You hesitate a moment before accepting it, allowing him to pull you up. Tom hand lingers on yours for a second too long before releasing.

Walking side by side into the castle headed toward your dorm. Tom insisted on dropping you off. You both walked together in a thick silence.

Making it to your common room entrance, it's time to say goodnight.

"I had fun tonight" you spoke first

"Yeah I did too" he smiles very softly

"I uh, I guess this is Goodnight" you smile "Goodnight Tom"

"Goodnight Y/N"Tom turns around walking a few steps before you notice you still have on his sweater.

"Wait, Tom, your sweater." You call out to him

He turns to face her with that same small smile

"Keep it, it looks better on you."Tom walks away.

You smile to yourself and think to yourself I think I like Tom Riddle.

[sweetcollywobbles]

my yandere!leon headcanons so far MDNI

hello! these are just a few headcanons i had about leon as a yandere and a person in general. there is nsfw below the cut, so MINORS AND AGELESS BIOS FUCK OFF ‼ also feel free to send me your thoughts on yandere!leon and your personal headcanons if you have any!!

xx

sfw

⟢ he's self-aware that what he's done to you is horrible. he knows you have every right to hate him, but that doesn't stop him from wishing you would love him back. he never meant to hurt or deceive you, but he's lost and given too much. leon wants someone to come home to, share a meal with, and feel needed and wanted. to receive a sliver of what he's given out. so forgive him if he's being selfish when it comes to you, but he deserves happiness too. so why not help him play house?

⟢ smells of bergamot and lavender. it’s nice and relaxing, but also musky and woodsy. he read somewhere that lavender calms the nerves, so he just absolutely lathers himself in the scent. Sometimes you swear he smells like sleep personified. unfortunately, he’s still a man, so he uses old spice lavender body wash. for cologne, he uses sauvage by dior. 

⟢ normalcy is hard. how can anyone go back into society as if the amount of  horrors you’ve seen, aren’t there? like you’re fine and everything is fine? so, leon has found a pretty good remedy, company. each friday, a sit down dinner with claire, chris, and jill. pizza, wings, and beer every sunday with chris watching whatever football game is on. sometimes they may not know the current standings of teams, but it’s fun to pretend that they do. yet friends can only fill the void so much, maybe with you, the world won’t feel so lonely. 

⟢ he has a major sweet tooth! likes his coffee with cream and sugar, won’t drink his coffee black unless he really needs it. leon will always have room for dessert lmao. has tried to bake, but he just doesn’t got it 💀something just always goes wrong. a big ice cream/frozen yogurt guy. once a month, leon will make a “everything under the kitchen sink” sundae. he’ll dump whatever pints of ice cream into a large bowl and top it off with whatever candy, syrup, and whip topping he has. leon is usually on a very strict diet, so why not splurge?

⟢ leon on his off time has taught himself how to smoke/grill meat. only knows how to make small side dishes to go with the meat that he’s made. mashed potatoes and grilled veggies are usually his two favorite go-to sides. 

⟢ i'm a firm believer that leon's receiving love languages are quality time and words of affirmation with a hint of acts of service. leon works a lot, whether at the office or away on another mission, this poor, tired man is always working. so when he's home be prepared to be attached at the hip. leon also has a lot of self-doubt and guilt about what he's done to you, so by telling him how much you love and appreciate him, it feeds his growing delusion that what he's done is necessary. you need him just as much as he needs you. it also adds to the reassurance when you do small things for him to show your love and appreciation, whether it’s real or not. like cleaning and folding his laundry, making him a cup of coffee in the morning, back rubs after a long day, or even packing his lunch for the day. 

i’m giggling at the thought of leon keeping all the small notes you add to his lunch, reading them when the day gets tough. or maybe he has one or two in a go-bag when he has to take small out-of-state trips for work. 

⟢ building off the one before, he won't admit it but he's clingy. he prefers showers, but will choose a bath if it means he gets a small intimate moment with you in the morning. not in a sexual sense, more in a “let’s bask in each other’s presence”. never sits across from you at a table or booth, always next to you. same thing for the couch. there could be a thousand pillows on the bed, but he always chooses yours. leon will also never lets you sleep facing any windows/doors for security reasons. there is no such thing as personal space with this man.

⟢ since leon is a yandere his reciprocating love language is all of them. he wants you to stay with him, so he is willing to drown you in his love until it's the only thing you'll ever know. i'm going to break this down a little in sections.  

⟡ leon isn't the best when it comes to choosing the words that relay how he feels. the words feel wrong and it leaves him awkward. so any sort of verbal praise from him is rare. the most you would get from him is a thumbs up and a "sure" or a pat on the back with a nod.

(😀👍🏻 <— leon fr) but, put a piece of paper infront of this man and all of a sudden he's writing words that’ll make shakespear blush. it's words so sickly sweet it gives you a toothache. leon really hates himself for not being able to verbal relay this to you, but maybe you can feel what he wants to say?

⟡ leon is just really good at showing you how he feels than telling you. I KNOW THIS MAN WOULD GIVE THE BEST HUGS BECAUSE HE SO DESPERATELY NEEDS ONE. just imagining leon giving you a bear hug, fully enveloping you, and he can't help but hold you a little closer. maybe even holds your head a little more to him. his eyes are closed, soaking up the loving moment, he might even do a little sigh of relief. because with you, he's safe. with you, he's loved. and he just wants you to feel the love he has for you through every action. to feel what he can't say. (SORRY I GOT OFF TRACK!!) leon also always has to be touching you in some way. his favorite places for kisses; nose, cheek, neck, or hand. every morning, when he's holding you close, he'll leave small repeated kisses on your neck until you wake up giggling. not really into lip kisses, but will sometimes start a lazy make out session. just loves holding you whenever he can and making sure you feel loved at all times.

⟡ leon will also do the most for you. having a hard time sleeping? he's awake with you, lightly scratching your back in small circles or holding you close while he's running his fingers through your hair. leon just can't sleep knowing that you're having a hard time sleeping. hungry but don't want to cook? he's in the kitchen cheffing it up. putting love in every plate that he makes you, even if it isn't restaurant quality. i feel like leon will also leave you small notes around the house in places that you would find, but it's little drawings instead of words. in the slow cooker, a picture of a flower. in between the dryer sheets, a bad stick figure drawing of what you think is of you and him. at some random page of the book you're reading, a simple heart. 

⟡ leon loves spending time with you. it doesn't matter what it is, even if you're doing nothing. he wants to do nothing with you. his favorite thing to do with you is listen to you. whether you’re rambling about the latest tv drama he knows nothing about or it’s late at night and you’re reading whatever book you’ve picked up. he loves being in the kitchen when you’re cooking/baking. he’s your dedicated sous chef, so feel free to boss him around like your gordon ramsay. although, i’m so sorry for the amount of “my name is sue” jokes he’ll make. loves watching movies, putting together legos/ doing diy crafts, and playing mario kart. 

I NOTICED THIS WAS GETTING LONG AND IDK IF I EXPLAINED THIS WELL BUT IM HOPING I DID. THIS WAS SOOOO SELF INDULGENT.

⟢ when it comes to pet names, leon will add a “my” to the start of it. he’s possessive and it shows in his actions. will often say: my girl, my sweetheart, my baby, my angel, etc.

nsfw (i’m not good at smut sorry)

⟢ the praise problem does not equate to what happens in the bedroom. i'm sorry, i just simply refuse. a complete 180, he's a talker. whether it's saying something so outlandishly lewd like he wants the whole world to hear or sickly sweet nothings in your ear, this dude will NOT stfu. (and it makes me giggle and kick my feet) I WILL PUT MY LIFE ON THE LINE AND SAY THAT THIS MAN IS ABSOLUTELY FERAL IN BED. he's always stressed. from his job, from the lack of self care, from the past that just never seems to leave him. he's on edge. he has healthy ways of releasing it, but sometimes the gym or extra training isn't enough. 

⟢ which can lead to leon being a little mean in bed. he’s absolutely degrading the life out of you while also giving you whiplash with the praise that he gives you as well. leon is a lot more aggressive and at some point you’re just a fleshlight to him. spanking, choking, biting, spitting, you name it, it is on the table. also licking whatever drool comes out of his mouth makes him lose his mind fr.

⟢ i'm not good at writing smut, but i do have an idea of what i think leon's favorite sex positions would be. the first one would be mating press. it's extremely intimate and it allows him to be close to your face and neck than the regular missonary position. again, he really gets off knowing that he's the one getting you off. another postition would be cowgirl, it gives him full view of your chest and face, except you're not really riding him. again, he just using you as a fleshlight like giving you the perception that you’re in control. another would be you on your belly and him basically putting you in a headlock. IDK WHAT IT’S CALLED BUT IF YKYK. and leon just saying the most down right atrocious things in your ear would make me go crazy. 

YOU’RE GONNA SIT THERE AND TELL ME YOU DON’T WANT HIS HUGE ARMS AROUND YOUR NECK, YOU’RE INSANE. 

⟢ last but not least, ✨moaning✨. i like to think that he’s a grunter and whiner at the same time. idk if that makes any sense? he’s loud but not obscenely loud. but sometimes when he overstimulates himself, he’s a complete whiner like lovi (again if ykyk).

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for giving someone an ultimatum without letting them know and then ghosting them when they failed said ultimatum that they didn't know about?

This happened a while ago, but I still think about it occasionally.

So I (18F at the time) had a friend, S (18 FTM) in high school. (when this takes place) We weren't super close, as we'd only met senior year and would only hang out at lunch, since we had no classes together. We had a pretty average high school acquaintance/friendship.

Then on the Friday before finals/graduation week, S confessed that he thought I was cute and asked me out on a date. I said yes, as I had a secret crush on him but didn't act on it before, as I didn't want to ruin the friendship/make it weird. So I was glad my feelings were reciprocated. We cuddled and held hands at the rally that day (too nervous to actually kiss or anything in front of the whole school yet) and exchanged numbers with the intention of going on a date in the near future, as he couldn't go after school that day.

This is where I feel I might be justified.

After I got home, I texted him "hey we never actually decided on a day/time for a date. I'm free any time, when is good for you?" And we ended up deciding to meet up after school the following Monday. Then we spend the weekend texting about dumb shit.

Monday rolls around. I don't see S at school, but figured it wasn't a big deal, as we didn't actually have any classes together. After school, I wait by our agreed upon meeting place and he doesn't show up. I text him, asking what was up and he responds that he didn't go to school. He didn't feel like going, so called out "sick". (I'm not belittling his sickness, he literally told me that he wasn't actually sick, he just didn't feel like going to school and had his mom call him in sick)

For whatever reason (I was young? Dumb? Bored? Liked him? All of the above?) I forgave him for standing me up and told him we could go on a date whenever he was free and was able to get a ride or I could get a ride to his place if he wanted, as S lived in the next town over. (Neither of us had cars and public transportation in our area was not great)

Then he strung me along for an entire summer. We would text almost daily. (I use the word "text" very loosely- he exclusively used snapchat- I actually grew to HATE snapchat during this time, as he refused to text on the phone and insisted I download snapchat just to talk to him....bro wtf) We'd mostly talk about inconsequential shit- what show we were watching, what music we were listening to, etc. Every once in a while, I'd go "so...about that date...?" and he'd blow me off, making an excuse about not having a ride or something lame.

I gave him an out pretty early on. After the 2nd or 3rd excuse, I said "hey it's cool if you asked me out on a dare (it's happened before) or if you changed your mind or something. I swear I won't be mad, just let me know now so I don't waste my time" S insisted that he actually intended to go on a date, he just had transportation trouble.

This is where I may be the asshole.

So, after a whole summer (I think it was the end of August or maybe even September) I got fed up and decided in my head to test him secretly. I decided (without informing him of my plan, of course) that I was going to give him one last chance to take me on a date or I'd ghost him. I would ask him one last time when he was available to go on a date, and if he still made excuses, I would ghost him.

So I did just that. I asked him, he made some excuse about not having a ride, and I cut off contact. When I thought of this test, I had also noticed that lately, I would always be the one to message him first and initiate conversation, so I also wanted to test if he would contact me first, as a 2 in 1 test.

HOWEVER, I didn't block him. I just stopped contacting him first and ghosted him with no explanation. He could've contacted me at any point, but didn't.

I never saw or heard from him again.

I know he's the asshole for asking me out, standing me up, and stringing me along, but am I also the asshole for giving him an ultimatum without his knowledge and ghosting him?

What are these acronyms?