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cherrygirlfriend · 4 months ago

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ examination table

pairing: gynecologist!rafe x reader synopsis: you go to get artificial insemination. your gyno has a different method. warnings/tags: smut, artificial insemination, unprotected piv, breeding kink, public sex, small surprise at the end, MDNI! wc: 1.2k a/n; aside from having to do a strange amount of research about ovulation, iui and me overall being against male gynos; this was fun.

rafe masterlist ♡

you couldn't resist the urge to tap the heel of your boot against the linoleum floor - rolling your golden wedding band so you wouldn't bite your freshly manicured nails. it felt like your heart was going to thump thump thump out of your chest and land on the floor in front of you.

there were only three other people in the waiting room, a few posters related to women's health decorating the otherwise plain, dull, light green walls of the office, the tick-tock of the clock and the hushed whispers of the two nurses behind the front desk being the only thing you could focus on, along with the overpowering stench of chanel no 5 that was wafting from the other customer waiting for her appointment browsing through an age-old copy of cosmopolitan.

you nearly hopped to your feet when the door to one of the offices opened, clutching your purse like it was the only thing keeping you afloat. "come in." doctor cameron said with a small smile on his lips, gesturing towards his office.

you followed the tall man into the sterile, white office, holding your arms tightly against your chest, your shoulders hunched. when doctor cameron noticed how skittish you were being, he offered a small smile, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder before using it to cup your cheek and lifting it up so you were forced to look at his freckled face, "there's no need to be nervous. this is a pretty regular procedure. you can change into the gown and lay down on the examination table."

when you let out a reluctant nod, the doctor walked further into his office, giving you some privacy. while you listened to him rifle through papers, slowly, you tugged your sweater off along with your jeans, leaving your underwear to cover your skin that was now in goosebumps while you covered yourself with the blue rustling hospital gown, until it came time to slip them off.

you took a few tentative steps towards the examination table, walking on your heels as your gynecologist turned to face you, your chart in his hands, his blue eyes skimming over the details as you sat down onto the examination table, the paper sheet rustling against the paper gown in a way that made you cringe.

"so, how many days ago did you take your last dose of clomid?"

"eight days ago." you said with a tight smile, fiddling with the hem of your gown, "and i did an ovulation test before i left home, and it said my ovulation should be at its highest."

"you've really done your homework." he chuckled, placing down the clipboard, placing his warm hand on your bare knee in a comforting gesture. "are you ready to get started? i've got your husband's specimen prepared. don't worry, the catheter won't hurt, you might just feel a bit uncomfortable for a moment."

you took a deep breath, closing your eyes and laying back as you steadied your breathing, trying your best to get comfortable. "ready." you whispered softly, opening your eyes to look up at the slightly yellow-tinted fluorescent light above you.

"it helps the sperm to travel if you've got your pelvis propped up." doctor cameron said in a slightly hushed tone, lifting your hips up and placing a pillow underneath your hips, his hands pressing your hips down to meet it, keeping them there as he looked down at you with a small smile. "there you go. are you comfortable?"

"it does." you swallow dryly, fiddling with the paper sheet underneath you, sighing. "i hope it works out. we've been trying to get pregnant for a year now."

"yeah?" he looked down at you, his eyes crinkling slightly, the feel of the pads of his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he drew small patterns to the hem of your hospital gown. "you know what people say helps with getting pregnant?"

"what?" you almost whispered, your thighs starting to form goosebumps under doctor cameron's fingers as they slowly slid under the crinkly god-ugly gown.

"orgasms." his hand continued to slide up your inner thigh, the metal of your doctor's wedding ring a pleasing contrast against your warm skin, "it's never been proven to be accurate, of course." his hand was just under your crotch, drawing infinity-symbols on your skin, a pondering look on his face as he cocked his head to the side, a small smirk appearing on his face, "but it never hurts to be thorough, right?"

doctor cameron had you folded over on the examination table, holding your legs at your sides, his warm lips placing sloppy, hot kisses on your neck as his cock slid out of you before slamming against your cervix, the man letting out a soft breathy laugh at every little gasp or moan that managed to escape your lips.

"how many times do i have to tell you, sweetie?" he mumbled against your skin, rafe's words intensified by the pace of his hips snapping against yours increasing, a loud yelp leaving you, "you don't need to try and keep quiet. no one's gonna hear us." he breathed out.

the pad of his thumb found your your clit, starting to draw small circles on it as the room was filled with your unsteady breathing combined with the lewd squelch of your pussy every time his hips met yours, "come on, let me hear all those pretty little noises... it's not like this is the first time we've fooled around here."

rafe tried pulling away from your neck, but you tugged him closer by his hair, holding him there as tightly as possible "god, rafe..." you moaned out, the doctor letting out a pleased hum against your skin.

"come on, sweetie... tell me how much you want me to put a baby in you, yeah?"

"so badly..." your back arched off the examination table while rafe's long fingers slid up to your breast, teasing it with small kneads and pinches before his left hand found your hand, your fingers intertwining with his, your matching wedding bands meeting.

"i love you so much... i can't wait for you to be all pretty and pregnant." he smiled against your skin, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

MEANWHILE….

"i wonder what's taking dr. cameron so long..." the receptionist wondered aloud with a frown on her pouty lips, turning to look at the clock on the wall as she tapped her pink fingernails against the desk, "i mean, it's almost lunchtime."

the other receptionist let out a snort, interrupting the movement of the file against her long nail, turning to look at the other girl with raised brows, chewing gum. "what, you don't know?"

"know what?"

"oh, this is good." the receptionist laughed, throwing her head back with laughter in her office chair. "you don't know who she is."

"what?" the other girl asked, huffing in annoyance as she grabbed a cheeto out of the bag sitting in front of them.

"that client is mrs. cameron."

"as in-"

"yup, that was doctor cameron's wife." she let out a loud snort of a laugh as she shook her head, grabbing a cheeto before going back to filing her nails. "guess she gets special treatment."

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sweatermakers · 1 year ago

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ultravi0lence14 · 6 months ago

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SWEET ANGEL

dean winchester x angel!reader

2.5k | angst, enemies to lovers, szn nine

summary: with angel now living in the bunker, dean has to swallow his pride and realize not everyone is out to get him.

WHEN ANGEL FALLS IN LOVE

the drab walls of your room in the winchester’s bunker stared back at you, almost taunting in how their beige and gloomy colours looked around you. it was coming up on week four post fall, almost a month since you were locked out of heaven, and you seemed to be making absolutely no progress.

sam had tried to teach you about humans, explaining different types of slang and technologies that they had created. though, he decided to stop after his brief pop culture unit turned into a brutal argument stemming from your confusion.

it didn’t make it any better that you had no clothes. your white dress from the day you were found under the wilting willow was all you had; grass and mud washed away though the memories still lingered.

everything was starting to become unbearable. the scratchy sheets on your bed, the barren walls with no life or colour. your day to day routine wasn’t too bad. wake up, talk with sam about humanity and it’s customs, try a new snack, and then hobble away to your room where you’d indulge in copious amounts of youtube videos and pinterest boards.

there happened to be an old laptop of sam’s lying around, and after some grumbling from dean, both he and his younger brother helped you set up and navigate the device.

dean was a topic you wished to never bring up or even think about. the man stuck to his word, not talking to you unless you initiated first. even then he sometimes wouldn’t respond. when he did, it was always snippy responses that had you rolling your eyes, retreating to where you actually felt wanted; an enigma of a place that you created in your own company.

the internet was something you marvelled at. looking at a plethora of video content on youtube, and all different types of pictures on pinterest.

a sense of fashion was something you started to pick up on, looking at countless pieces online and even grabbing magazines from the store when sam would take you out with him.

your angelic roots peaked through in the fashion and aesthetic you gravitated towards. a girly vibe was always something you enjoyed, but you also seemed to like the more quirky and unique styles. skirts, plain and colourful tights, bright sweaters and form fitting tops seemed to find a way into your brain; the drab cotton dressed you landed on earth in going to shame as you looked at all the different patterns and fashion choices.

it finally dawned on you that this is what you needed. the boring walls, uncomfortable bedding, and borderline empty room just wasn’t doing it for you anymore. you needed to find yourself, express who you wanted to be without the chains of heaven wrapped around your body.

you needed to go shopping, and fast, but there was simply one problem. sam had left yesterday to go help some hunter friends on a case, leaving in their car and expressing how he’d be back in two weeks time. so, it seemed as though dean was the only person who could help you with your recent epiphany.

the plan was a lost cause, but begrudgingly, you got up from your bed and made the short walk to dean’s room. twirling your hair nervously, you found yourself stood in front of his door, hearing the faint sound of music coming from what you assumed to be his record player. slowly lifting your hand, you let a delicate knock linger on the wood; a drastic change from the intense music playing from behind the door.

music halted, a metaphorical record scratch being heard as heavy feet came towards the door. wind blew the front pieces of your hair back, and you were greeted with dean’s gloomy face as he stared down at you from where he stood.

“what do you want, feathers?” his words had a cadence of annoyance, like he’d rather be doing anything else but talk to you. it made you wring your fingers together, picking at your cuticles as you looked up at him through your lashes. “i have a favour to ask.”

if this were any other occasion, dean would say no. hell, he’d probably slam the door in your face. but those eyes, those goddamn eyes that stared into his soul. they were big, giving your already angelic features a doe-like look. dean was mentally kicking himself at how easily he was folding.

with a sigh, he cocked his head to his right, staring at you intently, a way to mask how your look was making him feel. “i’ll only say yes ‘cause sammy’s away — but tell me what it is first. i’m not going on some whack ass trip all ‘cause you batted your eyes at me all pretty.”

the words that left dean’s lips had your own parting in shock, eyes widening even more. he was so strange. one second he hated you and the next he was flirting like you were a girl he saw at the bar. but you decided a while ago to not question dean’s ways, for diving in too deep would be like swimming in the mariana’s trench.

with a light cough, you continued your recent proposal as dean looked down at you with a cocky grin on his face. “i want to decorate my room, get new clothes, really integrate myself into society. and before you complain, i’ve been wearing the same dress for a month; it’s time for a change.”

dean would love to say no, he truly would. he’d love to laugh in your face, tell you that your sweet and innocent act wasn’t working on him. every angel — besides cas — that sam and dean had come across left them with more problems then they started out with. why should dean trust you?

but over the past weeks, he couldn’t help but realize how unreasonable he was being. cas trusted you, and sam seemed to be doing just fine in hanging out with you everyday. dean had to swallow his pride and realize that someone wasn’t planning to hurt him or his brother, that all you had on your mind was reinventing yourself and not dwindling into psychosis by staring into your empty abyss of a room.

though it was dean at the end of the day, and he could never admit that for once he was wrong. so with practiced ease, he pushed down those feelings and huffed loudly, reaching across the door frame for his keys and pushing past you out the door.

“c’mon feathers,” he grumbled as you stood by his door shocked, not knowing how to react to dean actually wanting to help you. “hurry up before i change my mind.”

the car ride was tense, an awkward tension that had you smushing into the side door. dean’s music blared through the speakers, a testimony on the fact he didn’t want to talk to you. there was no place in your bones that had you wanting to talk to him, but after 2 hours in the car, you got confused on where he was going.

“umm, dean?” you questioned, turning your body towards his and watching as his jaw ticked from his side profile. “where are we going?”

he didn’t turn his head, didn’t look away from the road as his jaw tensed and his fingers gripped on the steering wheel. “minnesota.” your lips parted, confused on why he was going to a whole different state before he spoke again. “you’ve never been to the mall of america. i’m giving you important life experiences, feathers.”

dean watched as your eyes widened, pouty lips opening wide as shock filled your body. he honestly didn’t know why he was driving a whole ten hours for you to go shopping. it was unnecessary, but dean couldn’t stop himself from continuing his drive.

“oh.” your voice came out breathy, your head going down to your chest as you fiddled with your fingers. “well, i’ve never been on a drive this long. what do you do?”

what did you do? when he was with sam, it was like muscle memory. sit in silence for a bit, jokingly bicker back and forth, sam would sleep for a bit. but you had never done this before. so dean had to think of a whole new way to keep you entertained.

he truly was trying to work on his animosity towards you. so with a sigh he turned slightly to look at you. “some people sleep, some talk to the whole time. what do you wanna do, sweetheart?”

“can you tell me about your views on the world?” your words had dean fully turning his head to look at you. he briefly gave you a confused look before turning back to the road. why would you ask that? he understood you were an angel, a heavenly creature that didn’t know anything about her own father’s creation, but why did you what to know his views on it?

sensing his confusion, you backtracked as best as you could, shaking your head and staring out the car window at all the trees and fields melding together like molten lava. “i just mean, i’ve heard how sam feel’s about certain things, but i want to know how you feel. your favourite music, movies, what your dreams are. i don’t know dean, i just want to know more.”

he was shocked, not ever having someone ask him what his dreams and favourite things were. he slightly turned his head again, eyes watching as your hair curtained your face. tentatively, he pulled his hand away from the steering wheel so he could brush the strands away from your face. your cheeks blushed as he tucked it behind your ear, hand gracing your cheek softly as he let it fall down your arm.

“sure, whatever you want, angel.”

that’s how you two spent the rest of the drive; dean raving on about all his favourite things while you silently listened, inventively taking in all his interests. you noticed how over time he became more open, excitedly talking about his interests from childhood to now. it was nice, listening to all the things that made dean, well, dean.

it wasn’t even like he wanted to stop. this was one of the most relaxing drives he’s had in a while. you didn’t interrupt him, you just sat and listened. sitting in his front seat like the heavenly angel you were and looking more like a painting than a celestial being.

dean even drove through the night, not wanting to wake you as you slept so pretty in the car. he didn’t mind not getting any sleep if it meant not waking you up to go to a motel. he was also accustomed to not sleeping for days, so he was honestly fine.

the mall finally came into view just as your eyes peeled open. you were confused, not used to the notion of sleeping. it was like a massive weight had lifted off your chest, arising like snow white out of her bed of flowers. as you noticed where you were, you excitedly looked at the structure, eyes wide in awe as you scrambled out of the car and dashed towards the entrance.

you were like an excited bunny, hopping around from store to store as dean kept a close eye on you. each shop you came out with something new — god bless fake credit cards — and dean had to stop himself from thinking about how pretty you looked in certain items.

at first you needed to figure out what your size was, so dean would be succumbed to sitting in stuffed changing rooms with obnoxious pop music playing while you tried on tops and skirts behind a flimsy curtain. when you came out in your first outfit — a long sleeve black and white striped top with a denim mini skirt — dean almost passed out in the fucking store.

his breath almost lodged in his throat, making him choke on his own breath like a damn child. that white dress of yours never let him see how long your legs truly were. they exemplified the skirt low on your hips while your just as long torso helped the shirt fit perfectly.

he knew you were a tall person, but holy shit.

you were like a fucking model. dean had to remind himself of his forced hate towards you for if he didn’t, he’d push you into that change room with his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

when dean awkwardly mentioned that you probably needed to buy some undergarments, he sat outside the victoria’s secret as you toddled in with a perplexed look on your face and his credit card in hand. the bag you came out with was massive, and dean was enough of a gentlemen to not look inside or too close to it.

the rest of the stores were a blur. a plethora of bags filled with tight fitted zip ups — some knitted, multiple skirts, tight fitted tops, cozy and colourful sweaters, a multitude of coloured tights, brown and black suede boots, and even more dresses that dean swore that it wouldn’t all fit in the impala.

it didn’t make it any better that you even shopped for your room. floral sheets with ruffled pillow cases, a white comforter, multiple tall, thick and short candles to decorate the space, and a multitude of prints and paintings that had dean shocked by your artistic eye.

as you finished at the mall, dean decided that a couple of thrifts store wouldn’t hurt. you were enthralled, looking around and grabbing as many cool trinkets as you could for your shelves. he found you a used cd player, taking you to the section with cd’s so you could pick out some music.

sam had gotten you a spotify account, so you knew the stuff you liked. songs and albums from artists dean didn’t even know you knew about graced your cart. britney spears, alanis morissette, carrie underwood, abba, fleetwood mac, and other similar artists that dean didn’t simply like, but he’d buy them just for you.

he even saw you pick up old one direction and justin bieber cd’s, and decided to not even question you on it.

you were so excited, and dean didn’t want to dim the ravenous sparkle that lilted your eyes. you rambled on about how you were going to revamp the old furniture without even needing to buy new ones, how the art studio stool that you bought for the desk was going to be so much better than the uncomfortable wood chair.

dean promised he’d take you to shops around the bunker to get essentials like comfy clothes and pajama’s, but for now, it was time to go back home.

the ride home had dean’s heart pumping just like before. you kept asking him more questions, asking stories about his childhood and how long he’d been hunting for. you were so interested in his life, which sent a wave of electricity through dean’s bones.

he started to admit to himself that he may be an asshole. how could he be so mean to such a sweet angel like you. your innocence, darling nature, and soft yet exuberant aura left dean feeling like he was floating on a feather.

you just made everything simple, and dean realized that helping you become human was the best thing cas had ever decided for him.

TAGS: @floralscented @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @ostaramoon @haunteres @fallbhind @rubyvhs @foolinthera1n @taurus0queenie33 @vaiieydoii @jasvtsc @bitchykittenconnoisseur @angel-inspiredblog @galacticalllcafffeine @pascal-rascal424 @annoyingstrawberryballoon @fayeisuppose @geisterfvhrer @bluemerakis @si1ver06 @drqstqr @wh0s-ra3 @supernatural-bangtanboys @whump-loverz @mostlymarvelgirl @d3anwinchesterswife @youdontknowe @oceanolokys

*creating my perfect 2000s makeover montage in this chapter and living vicariously through it. also poor angel doesn’t know what online shopping is. she’s going to be a depop warrior tho i will tell you that much.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #imagine #supernatural x reader #dean winchester imagine #ultravi0lence14 #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x angel!reader #when angel falls in love #dean winchester series

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multi-fandom-imagine · 5 months ago

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Babe do you have any ideas with a Fred Weasley snuggling in his wife's lap? (Or gn partner idc) I don't know, he's had a rough day and needs comfort

something's made him angry or insecure...

A/n: MY BABY!!!

The Flat was quiet. Too quiet.

It was the usual kind of silence that didn’t belong in a home that was usually full of laughter, chatter, and the occasional explosion from the twins’ latest prank product. But tonight, the house felt still, as if even the walls knew something was off.

You were curled up on the couch, a knitted blanket draped over your legs as you waited for Fred to come home. He had sent a quick message earlier—just a short, clipped note saying he’d be late. No teasing remark, no cheeky nickname, just a plain message. That alone told you something was wrong.

Fred Weasley was rarely quiet.

The fireplace flared to life, casting a warm glow over the room, and a second later, Fred stepped through the flames. He looked exhausted, his shoulders hunched under the weight of whatever had happened today. His usual easy grin was nowhere to be seen, and his eyes, normally alight with mischief, were dull and tired. A frown forming on your lips the moment you caught sight of your husband's weary expression.

“Freddie?” you called softly, setting your book aside.

He didn’t answer right away. He just stood there for a moment, staring at the floor like he wasn’t sure what to do next. That’s when you knew—whatever had happened at the shop today wasn’t just a minor annoyance. This was something heavier.

Without another word, you opened your arms for him, book long forgotten.

And that was all it took.

Fred let out a quiet, shaky breath before making his way over to you. He practically collapsed into your lap, his long limbs folding as he buried his face in your stomach. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding on like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

You said nothing at first, just ran your fingers through his fiery hair, gently scratching his scalp the way you knew he liked. He exhaled slowly, the tension in his body beginning to unwind with every stroke of your fingers. His body already melting into yours, clinging to you as if you were his last resort.

It was rare to see Fred like this—so unguarded, so vulnerable. He was always the one making others laugh, lifting their spirits with a joke or a prank. But even the brightest souls had their dark days, and when those moments came, you were always there to catch him.

After a while, he mumbled something against your shirt, his voice muffled. Fingers flexing and unflexing around the sweater you wore.

“What was that, love?” you asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Fred shifted slightly but didn’t lift his head. “Just… a rough day at the shop,” he murmured.

You kept running your fingers through his hair, waiting for him to say more.

“Had a customer come in—some bloke who thought it’d be funny to start ranting about how we’re just selling nonsense, how it’s all a joke,” Fred muttered, his voice tight. “Said we weren’t real businessmen, that we were just playing around while people were out doing actual work.”

You felt a flare of anger rise in your chest. You knew how much Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes meant to Fred and George. They had built that shop from the ground up, pouring their hearts and souls into every product, every joke, every detail, not to mention how they had to rebuild everything after the war and to have someone belittle that, to make Fred doubt even for a second that his work wasn’t valuable—it infuriated you.

Shaking your head, pushing down your anger you calmed yourself. This was about making your husband feel better, the man who went out of his way to make you smile.

“Oh, Freddie,” you murmured, tightening your arms around him. “You know that’s not true, right?”

Fred huffed against your stomach. “Yeah, I know. But I hate that it got to me. Normally, I’d just tell a tosser like that to shove off, but today…” His grip on your waist tightened. “I don’t know. It just… stuck.”

You cupped his face, gently guiding him to look up at you. His brown eyes were stormy, filled with frustration and something more vulnerable underneath.

“Listen to me, Fred Weasley,” you said firmly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You and George created something incredible. You bring people joy, laughter, and a little bit of magic when they need it most. That’s not nonsense. That’s a gift.”

Fred blinked up at you, the corner of his lips twitching, like he wanted to smile but wasn’t quite there yet.

“And if some miserable sod doesn’t see that, then that’s his loss,” you continued. “Not yours.”

Resting your head against his, Fred just stared at you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the truth in your words. Then, finally, he sighed and nuzzled back into your lap, his face resting against your stomach once more.

“You always know what to say,” he murmured.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair again. “That’s because I know you, love. And I know how incredible you are.”

Fred let out a deep breath, his body fully relaxing against you. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, you know that?”

You laughed softly, pressing another kiss to his temple. “I do. But I never get tired of hearing it.”

He let out a soft chuckle, the first real laugh you’d heard from him all night. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other. No words were needed now—just the warmth of your embrace, the steady rhythm of your hands in his hair, and the quiet reassurance that no matter how hard the world tried to bring him down, you would always be there to lift him back up.

#drabbles #drabble #fred weasley is alive #fred survived the war #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #HP #hp x reader #hp x you #hp x y/n #female reader #JKR is a hoe

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astrologydray · 2 months ago

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😩😩Rising Signs as Style Personas: Men/masculine edition😩😩

Aries Rising – The Alpha Statement-Maker

• Athletic streetwear, combat boots, muscle-fit tees, bomber jackets, and jeans. elements like leather, denim, and statement pieces. tailored pieces like blazers, jackets with sharp lines, and well-fitting pants

• Red, black, and bold colors; Don't shy away from other bold hues like orange, yellow, and hot pink. strong silhouettes. experiment with unique looks. faux fur, animal prints, or distressed fabrics

• Sporty meets rebel energy (think: leather jackets, fitted joggers) Edgy & Trendsetting. Bold & Eye-catching

• Vibe: Confident, daring, always ahead of the trend

What to Avoid Wearing:

• Anything too soft, pastel-heavy, or romantic. Oversized fits that hide your assertive build

• Overly neutral or “quiet luxury” that feels passive

Taurus Rising – The Luxe Earth-Toned Classic

• Cozy, high-end fabrics (cashmere, suede, organic cotton). Well-made, durable pieces. such as well-tailored suits, quality leather shoes, and classic accessories

• Earth tones (greens, and deep blues) neutrals, olive, cream, chocolate brown

• a refined, understated style rather than overly trendy or flashy looks. a classic watch, a simple bracelet, or a quality leather belt as key accessories. Quality over Quantity

• Vibe: Rich, warm, slow fashion king

What to avoid Wearing:

• Loud logos, synthetic materials, or cheap fabrics. Anything too uncomfortable or overly trendy

• Harsh color blocking—stick to soft blends and textures

Gemini Rising – The Whimsical Chameleon

• Layered streetwear, bucket hats, mixed patterns

• Pops of color (especially yellow, mint, light blue). Their fashion choices may reflect their intellectual curiosity and love for communication

• Y2K, vintage, or experimental fashion hybrids giving Versatility and Adaptability.

• Vibe: Playful, unpredictable, and always current

What to Avoid Wearing:

• Super serious or corporate looks that mute your playful energy. All-black or monochrome outfits too often

• Stiff fabrics—flexibility is key

Cancer Rising – The Soft-Edged Romantic

• Vintage sweaters, cozy textures, warm layers. incorporating elements from the past into their fashion vintage or retro

• Soft neutrals, seafoam green, rose tones. pastels, moonlit shades, and blues, including cerulean, sky, lapis, teal, or even arctic.

• Casual elegance—button-ups over tees, wool coats, Cozy Knits and Oversized Sweaters. Heirloom Jewelry: Add a touch of personal history and significance

• Vibe: Emotionally stylish, intimate, nostalgic

What to Avoid Wearing:

• Harsh lines or icy fashion aesthetics. Clothes that feel too “masculine-coded” or rigid

• Cold, metallic color palettes

Leo Rising – The Regal Showman

• Statement pieces, bold patterns, gold jewelry, bold watches, stylish sunglasses, Gold necklaces, eye-catching rings

• Designer streetwear, custom tailoring, dramatic coats. A sharp, well-fitting suit in a rich color. Luxurious fabrics like velvet or silk, satin

• Jewel tones like gold, crimson, and royal blue or yellow, orange, red, and magenta

• Vibe: Spotlight-ready, never underdressed

What to Avoid Wearing:

• Super plain fits, especially if they mute your presence. Cheap or flimsy materials—your aura deserves more

• Neutral palettes that erase your shine

Virgo Rising – The Clean Precisionist

• Sharp tailoring, neat fits, elevated casual wear, polished and put-together look

• Crisp whites, navy, beige, olive, brown, green, blue, and tan

• Structured pieces: polos, chinos, trench coats

• Vibe: Minimalist, intentional, impossibly clean

What to Avoid Wearing:

• Cluttered or chaotic patterns. Oversized, sloppy streetwear (unless it’s tailored)

• Trendy, throwaway fashion without purpose

Libra Rising – The Harmonized Prettyboy

• Matching sets, silk shirts, perfect layering. Quality chinos, button-down shirts, and cashmere sweaters

• Soft pastels, balanced color blocking, clean sneakers, Dusty rose, deep coral, and midnight blue.

• Stylish with romantic undertones (scents, grooming, accessories) shades like watermelon, coral, punch, fuschia, and strawberry pink. Denim, berry, indigo, spruce, peacock, and navy blue are also good options.

• Vibe: Effortless charm, aesthetically gifted

What to Avoid Wearing:

• Mismatched patterns, clunky shoes, or dirty details. Harsh “alpha” fits that throw off your balanced energy

• Outfits that look too rushed or undone

Scorpio Rising – The Intense Icon

• All-black everything, dark denim, leather boots. Deep reds, black, purples, maroons, and burgundies. Denim, berry, indigo, spruce, peacock, and navy

• Fitted pieces, trench coats, silver jewelry. leather, velvet, and satin

• Sexy without trying: mesh, open collars, deep V’s

• Vibe: Mysterious, powerful, hard to read

What to Avoid Wearing:

• Bright neons or loud graphic tees.. Overly “friendly” or bubbly fashion

• Excessively baggy clothing that hides your allure

Sagittarius Rising – The Explorer Adventurer

• Layered flannels, denim jackets, printed shirts, hats, scarves, statement jewelry, or unique belts to complete their looks

• Rustic color palettes: burgundy, navy, forest green

• Hiking boots, lived-in leather, festival fits. Bohemian/Eclectic touches: elements like flowy silhouettes, ethnic prints, or vintage-inspired pieces.

• Vibe: World-traveled, spontaneous, cultural

What to Avoid Wearing:

• Overly structured or restrictive fashion. Repetitive looks—your style thrives on movement

• Anything you can’t breathe or run in

Capricorn Rising – The Power Dresser

• Executive neutrals, high-end tailoring, quiet luxury

• Fitted turtlenecks, crisp blazers, designer watches, Dark wash jeans, White button-downs and polo shirts . Classic coats and jackets in neutral colors

• Black, charcoal, taupe, forest green, navy, gray, and white, browns, ochres, and dark greens

• Vibe: CEO energy, rich and respected

What to Avoid Wearing:

• Over-the-top streetwear or cartoonish prints. Messy or rebellious fashion

• Inexpensive-looking fabrics that clash with your prestige

Aquarius Rising – The Style Alien

• Futuristic fashion, unique color pairings, gender-fluid silhouettes. embracing trends early and can even be trendsetters

• Metallics, layered chains, cyberpunk or thrifted one-of-ones

• Iridescent, bold accessories, and asymmetry

• Vibe: Unpredictable, iconic, walking Pinterest board

What to Avoid Wearing:

• Basic “mall fashion” or generic trends. Super traditional or stiff, conservative clothes

• Anything too normal—you’re built to defy boxes

Pisces Rising – The Ethereal Artist

• Linen, cotton, and silk. soft textures, layered neutrals, artistic accessories, relaxed fits, and unique accessories like beaded necklaces or woven belts; Bohemian & Eclectic Touches

• Colors like seafoam, lavender, ivory, ocean blue, blues, in general, greens, purples and softer pastels.

• Dreamy fits: oversized sweaters, scarves, painter pants, linen shirts,

• Vibe: Poetic, imaginative, unbothered by the real world

What to Avoid Wearing:

• Harsh lines or stiff, military-inspired fits. Strong neon or heavy black on black—too harsh

• Super minimalist looks that erase your softness

#astro notes #astrology #birth chart #astro observations #astro community #astrology observations #astrology community #astrology degrees #astro #astroblr #fashion #astrology content #astrologyposts #astrology insights

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bibookdemon · 4 months ago

Text

The System is always watching.

It was on signs everywhere, just plain black text underlined against a white background. The lack of anything else always did the trick - so blunt that it chilled you to the bone.

Shen Yuan was hurrying along an empty street somewhere in the slums, hood pulled up with one hand and groceries tucked under his arm with the other. Rain was pouring down, but he didn't have an umbrella. Too conspicuous in the slums - it could attract unwanted attention.

After getting soaked through to the bone - who was he kidding, the sweater never fucking helped - he made it to his little house. It was an old flower shop that had been converted to living quarters. He'd bought it because it was the only place being sold for cash and with very little ties to the System. It had seen no modern technology in its life, so the System had no connections that way, though it was registered, so Shen Yuan had to be careful about keeping his paperwork up to date.

He placed the key in the lock, jiggled it a bit, and pushed his way inside, flipping the lights on. It was a relief to step into a dry area and peel away his shoes and outer layers. He looked forward to a long, warm shower after he got his groceries put away.

Shen Yuan dumped the bags of food and other essentials onto his island bar - originally the counter at which customers would pay - with a grunt, sighing when the weight was out of his arms. He had things going on with his body, but he couldn't risk a trip to any doctor. None remained untouched by the System. He couldn't risk it.

He stretched his back with a pop and resolved to use some of his nicer bathing salts because he deserved it after a long shop. He turned back toward the door to collect his wet socks and sweater to dump them in a laundry basket on his way to the bathroom, then stopped. A familiar figure stood there, eerily still, eyes glowing blue.

Hello, Shen Yuan. We meet again.

The System had found him.

◇

Futuristic world where society is ruled over by the System

SY is on the run from the System after hacking into it in an attempt to shut it down (it is destroying free will but no one will acknowledge the truth)

SY is about to be penalized by the System (killed, uploaded, brain used to test security)

SQH arrives and saves him! Turns out he's been leading a rebel group (turns out the group is just. SQH - but he had to convince SY to join forces with him somehow!!!) for many years to get rid of the System

They develop a friendship

The System manages to reveal to SY that SQH is its creator. SY is, of course, pissed the hell off

SY storms off in a fit of rage, which reveals their location.

SQH gets captured and nearly killed

SY has to save him

During the process of saving him he figures out how to end the System (with SQH's help)

And so society regains their free will and has to figure their shit out.

SQH and SY meanwhile lay low and have intense hate makeout sessions that they deem 'blowing off steam' (they're gays in denial your honor)

Yes I love Cumplane FIGHT ME

#cumplane #shen yuan x shang qinghua #shang qinghua #shen yuan #the system #dystopia au #??#svsss au #svsss #scum villain self saving system

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dearjoons · 1 month ago

Text

☕️ BARISTA!TAEHYUNG HEADCANNONS

warnings: barista!taehyung x customer!reader. shy, introverted, & mysterious tae. blue haired tae. fluff fluff FLUFF

lulu speaks: welcome to my very first tae au!! heehee blue bwl tae speaks to me. i had to do this for my own sanity.

꩜ barista!taehyung who works the earliest shift management lets him take; he opens the café while the city’s still half-asleep.

꩜ barista!taehyung who wears oversized cream sweaters and plain, bleak t-shirts under his black apron. his hair, though? bright blue. the color is so vibrant you’d think he stole hair dye from an emo.

꩜ barista!taehyung who doesn’t talk much other than the usual customer service lines. you don’t know if he’s shy or just introverted, but it adds so much more to the mystery that is blue bartender boy.

꩜ barista!taehyung who doesn’t mean to write “you look like an angel” in your drink. it just sorta…happened. he looks up and realizes you’re already walking away, and his heart stops. he debates chasing you to say it was a mistake—but doesn’t. you smile at the cup. he knows he’s doomed.

꩜ barista!taehyung who thinks about it all night. lays awake, replaying it like a broken record. why would you smile like that, why would he write that, what if you think he likes you? sure, he does, but you don’t need to know that.

꩜ barista!taehyung who takes people aback when he does speak. his voice is deep, slow, and unexpectedly smooth. customers get flustered. he pretends not to notice. (he totally notices. and it’s his favorite part of the day).

꩜ barista!taehyung who blushes easily. pink ears, pink cheeks, glancing away when complimented. he covers it up with polite & humble dismissal, then by pretending to be busy cleaning spotless countertops.

꩜ barista!taehyung who doesn’t flirt, because he doesn’t know how to. what does know how to do is stare—and stare, he does.

꩜ barista!taehyung who catches himself watching you in between customers.

꩜ barista!taehyung who talks to the plants. there’s a pothos on the windowsill he named “minjun.” he tells minjun about entitled and annoying customers, but also about the cute one who ordered a vanilla latte and made him nervous (yes, you).

꩜ barista!taehyung who calls you “miss” in the softest voice every time, even though he clearly knows your name.

꩜ barista!taehyung who practices saying your name when no one’s around. quietly, gently, like a song lyric. just to hear how it sounds coming from him.

lulu speaks pt2: i’m sorry this is so short i ran out of ideas 💔💔💔

cai bot. masterlist. navigation.

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jamesmcalover · 2 months ago

Text

cinematic - pt 2

Fred Hechinger x afab!reader

Warnings: fluff, SO ROMANTIC, hinting at smut (didn't feel like writing actual smut sorry xx)

Summary: reader works at the cinema and a really cute blonde man walks in one day

part 1

2.5k words - not proofread!

I'm so sorry it took me so long to finish this, please forgive me :( I hope you like it!! <3

The train ride home was quiet, but my mind was anything but. I stared out the window, watching the blurred city lights streak past, replaying the events of the night like a movie reel I didn’t want to end.

Fred Hechinger.

His name sounded surreal in my head now, almost like a punchline to a joke I hadn’t been in on. And yet, there he was, smiling at me like I was someone worth noticing. Not just a cinema employee stuck selling popcorn to unfriendly customers.

The crumpled receipt sat in my lap, his number staring back at me in messy scrawl. I’d unfolded it twice already, smoothing out the creases with my thumb as if memorizing it would make it feel more real.

Would he really want to see me again? The thought made my stomach flip. Actors didn’t meet random strangers in bars and ask for second dates. Not in real life.

But then again, Fred didn’t feel like every other actor plastered on movie posters. He was normal. Warm. Real in a way I hadn’t expected.

Still, the doubt crept in. What if this was just some fleeting moment for him? A funny story to tell on some late-night talk show one day? I tried to push the thought away, but it clung stubbornly, casting shadows over my excitement.

The train screeched to a halt, and I snapped out of my thoughts, gathering my bag as I stepped onto the platform. The cool air hit my face, and I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head.

When I finally made it home, I dropped my things on the kitchen counter and stared at my phone. He’d asked me to text him when I got back, but now that the moment was here, my fingers hovered uncertainly over the screen. What if I was overthinking it? What if he was expecting me to?

I grabbed the receipt again, reading the number for what had to be the fifth time. This is ridiculous, I thought, shaking my head at myself. He wanted me to text.

Finally, I typed out a message, simple and casual, though my heart was racing like I was about to step on stage for the first time.

Hey, it’s Y/N. I just got home. Thanks again for tonight. It was fun :)

I hit send before I could second-guess myself.

The reply came faster than I expected.

I’m glad you had fun. I really meant it when I said I want to see you again.

I read the message twice, a smile tugging at my lips despite myself.

A week later, I found myself standing in front of my closet, chewing my bottom lip as I debated the life-altering question of what to wear. This was not supposed to feel so stressful.

Fred had texted me every day since our first meeting. Little conversations that felt easy and effortless, like I’d known him for years instead of days. He was funny, thoughtful, and occasionally self-deprecating in a way that made him even more endearing. But tonight was different.

Tonight wasn’t just texting. Tonight, I’d agreed to meet him again, this time for dinner.

I tugged out a black sweater, then frowned and shoved it back. Too plain. A dress? No, too much. I groaned, flopping onto my bed, surrounded by a graveyard of rejected outfits.

My phone buzzed beside me, and I grabbed it instinctively, already knowing who it would be.

I hope you’re not stressing too much about tonight. Whatever you wear, you’ll look great. I promise.

I blinked at the screen, then let out a laugh. How does he always know?

Are you psychic, or do you just assume I’m a chronic overthinker?

A little bit of both. ;) See you soon.

I rolled my eyes but smiled anyway. Maybe he was right. I could spend hours agonizing over details, or I could just… let it happen.

Thirty minutes later, I was stepping out of my apartment, the cool night air nipping at my skin as I hailed a cab.

When I arrived at the restaurant, Fred was already waiting outside, hands stuffed into his coat pockets. He spotted me instantly, his face lighting up in a way that made my chest tighten.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and familiar.

“Hi,” I replied, suddenly hyperaware of the way my pulse quickened.

He held the door open for me, and we stepped inside, the buzz of conversation and soft clinking of glasses filling the air.

By the time our drinks arrived, I realized that Fred wasn’t just easy to talk to. He had a way of making me forget everything else. He asked questions about me – genuine ones, not the superficial kind – and listened like he actually cared about the answers. He told stories about awkward auditions and the chaos of filming, peppered with self-aware humor that had me laughing until my sides ached. I found myself laughing more than I had in weeks, my usual self-consciousness melting away under his easy charm.

At one point, Fred tilted his head and studied me, his expression softer than I’d seen before. “You’re different than I expected.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Different how?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, smiling faintly. “I guess I thought you’d be a little more guarded. But you’re… real.”

The sincerity in his voice left me momentarily speechless. My chest tightened, and for a fleeting moment, I wondered if I was imagining things.

“Thanks,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Fred’s grin returned, and he leaned back in his chair. “Glad to hear it. So… what do you say we keep this going?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Keep it going?”

“I mean, if you’re not sick of me yet…” He hesitated, looking uncharacteristically shy. “I could show you my place. It’s nothing fancy, but I’ve got some decent coffee. Or tea, if that’s your thing.”

It was such a simple offer, but something about the way he said it made my pulse quicken.

“Sure,” I said, surprising even myself. “I’d like that.”

Fred’s apartment was cozy in a way that felt authentic, like him. The small living room was scattered with personal touches; a guitar leaning against the wall, a stack of dog-eared scripts on the coffee table, and a framed photo of him with what looked like an older woman, maybe his mother.

“Sorry for the mess,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he led me inside. “I wasn’t exactly expecting company.”

“It’s fine,” I assured him, taking in the space. “It feels lived in. In a good way.”

He smiled, gesturing toward the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. Coffee or tea?”

“Tea, if you’ve got it.”

Fred disappeared into the kitchen, and I sank into the plush cushions, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the throw pillow. There was something disarming about being here, surrounded by the pieces of his life. It felt intimate in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

When he returned, he handed me a steaming mug and sat beside me, close enough that our knees brushed.

“So,” he said, his tone playful, “what’s the verdict? Am I as terrible a host as you imagined?”

I smirked, taking a sip of the tea. “Not terrible. But you could’ve vacuumed or something.”

Fred laughed, shaking his head. “Harsh. Next time, I’ll roll out the red carpet.”

For a moment, the room fell quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. It was the kind of silence that felt full, like words weren’t necessary.

“You know,” he said suddenly, his voice softer, “I don’t usually do this.”

“Do what?”

“Invite people over. At least, not like this.” His eyes met mine, searching. “It’s just… different with you. Like I don’t have to try so hard.”

The vulnerability in his words took me by surprise, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. Instead, I reached out, my fingers brushing his. It was a small gesture, but it seemed to mean everything in that moment.

Fred’s lips curved into a faint smile, and he turned his hand over, his fingers tangling with mine.

“Do you ever think,” he murmured, “that maybe some people just… get each other? Like right away?”

My heart skipped a beat. “Maybe.”

I didn’t know if it was the tea warming me from the inside or the way Fred’s hand felt in mine, steady and grounding. The weight of the moment pressed gently, making the air feel heavier, like it carried more meaning than I was ready to put into words.

“Tell me something,” Fred said, his voice low, like he didn’t want to break whatever spell we were under. “What’s something about you that no one knows?”

I hesitated, looking down at our joined hands. His thumb brushed over my knuckles, an absentminded movement that made my chest feel tight.

“That’s a big question,” I murmured, trying to smile.

“I’ve got time,” he said, leaning back a little, still watching me like he actually cared about the answer.

I thought for a moment, the words catching in my throat before I finally let them out. “Sometimes… I think I’m more afraid of being understood than being misunderstood.”

Fred’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t interrupt. His hand stayed where it was, grounding me in a way that made the confession feel a little less terrifying.

“When people misunderstand you,” I continued, “it’s like a shield. You can hide behind it, tell yourself they just don’t get it. But if someone really sees you – like really sees you – there’s nowhere to hide. That’s what scares me.”

Fred was quiet for a moment, his gaze never leaving mine. When he spoke, his voice was softer than I’d ever heard it. “I’ve never thought about it this way. But I think I get it.”

His words hung between us, and I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he held back. Instead, he shifted closer, his knee pressing into mine more firmly now.

“You don’t have to be scared with me,” he said finally. “I mean, I don’t know if I’ll ever really get you, but… I want to try. If you let me.”

The honesty in his words made my breath catch. I didn’t know how to respond—at least, not with words. Instead, I leaned forward, closing the small gap between us. His breath hitched as I pressed my forehead against his, the tea mug in my hand forgotten on the coffee table.

“I think you already do,” I whispered.

For a moment, neither of us moved. His fingers tightened around mine just slightly, and I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. Then, slowly, Fred tilted his head, his lips brushing against mine in the softest, most hesitant kiss.

It wasn’t rushed or hungry. It was tender, careful—like he was giving me the space to pull away if I needed to. But I didn’t.

Instead, I leaned into him, letting the moment wrap around us like a cocoon.

When we finally pulled apart, Fred’s eyes searched mine, his expression open and unguarded.

“Was that okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I smiled, my heart fluttering somewhere between nerves and something sweeter. “Yeah,” I whispered. “That was okay.”

His thumb brushed gently over my hand again, slower now, lingering. Neither of us said anything for a moment. The quiet was different this time. Charged, almost heavy with possibility.

Fred leaned back slightly, his gaze flicking to my lips and then back to my eyes. “I was gonna ask if you wanted another cup of tea,” he said, voice low and warm. “But that feels kind of ridiculous now.”

I laughed under my breath, not letting go of his hand. “Depends on what kind of tea.”

“Oh,” he said, pretending to think. “The ‘stay a little longer’ kind, maybe.”

My pulse fluttered again, this time in my throat. I didn’t look away.

“I could be convinced,” I murmured.

Fred’s smile tugged a little wider, less amused now, more certain. His gaze lingered, steady and searching, as if waiting for me to take it back. I didn’t.

He stood, his hand never leaving mine, and I followed his lead, pulse drumming steadily beneath my skin.

The apartment felt smaller as we walked. The hallway dim and quiet, interrupted only by the soft brush of our steps and the weight of everything unspoken between us.

At his bedroom door, he paused, turning to face me again. There was no smirk now, no clever line. Just a glance that asked a question without words.

I answered with a nod, barely more than a breath.

Inside, the room was just like the rest of his place. Lived-in. Comfortable. Real. The sheets on the bed slightly rumpled, a hoodie draped over the back of a chair. I didn’t have time to overthink it, didn’t want to.

Fred let go of my hand just long enough to turn toward me. His other hand found my waist, careful, like he was still giving me space to pull away.

I didn’t.

Instead, I reached up, fingers brushing the edge of his jaw, and leaned in. This time without hesitation. The kiss was deeper now, slower, with a kind of patience that only made the heat coil tighter beneath my skin.

His hands slid up my sides, thumbs grazing over fabric like he was learning it by touch alone. And when we broke apart, just for a moment, his forehead rested against mine, his breath unsteady.

“Still okay?” he asked softly.

I didn’t answer right away, just smiled, letting my hands find the hem of his shirt.

“Still very okay.”

Fred’s breath caught, and I felt it more than I heard it. My fingers, slow and uncertain at first, slipped beneath the hem of his shirt. His skin was warm under my touch, and I let my fingertips graze lightly across his stomach, just enough to make him shiver.

He didn’t move right away. Just stayed there, his forehead resting gently against mine, as if anchoring himself to the moment.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I laughed, quiet and breathless. “I thought actors were supposed to be dramatic.”

“Only when it counts,” he whispered.

His lips found mine again, deeper this time. Still unhurried, but with something heavier behind it. A quiet hunger, restrained only by mutual reverence. I felt his hand slide along my thigh, slow and careful, as if asking without words.

I answered by tugging gently at his shirt, my eyes meeting his with quiet certainty.

Neither of us said anything. We didn’t need to.

A moment later, Fred shifted, pulling the shirt over his head and letting it fall somewhere beside the bed. I traced the line of his collarbone with the back of my hand, and he leaned into the touch like he’d been waiting for it.

The kiss deepened, breath mingling with breath, until everything else, every doubt, every second-guess, melted into the hush between us. The kind of hush that doesn’t need to be filled.

Only felt.

#fred hechinger #fred hechinger x reader #fred hechinger x you #fred hechinger fanfic #fred hechinger fanfiction

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m1d-45 · 5 months ago

Text

the corner of 1st and 9th

summary: you've given a little too much information to your favorite barista... not that it matters, when he already knows.

word count: 3k

-> warnings: stalking . he is unwell guys

-> gn reader (you/yours) is a hot drink enjoyer . mb

taglist: @samarill || @sarienic || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

reasons to NOT think that he is stalking you:

you tap your pen on the corner of your paper, eyes glancing between your writing and the clock. there’s no sound but the intermittent ac and the chatter of voices from the common room, a group of your dormmate’s friends that you’re not keen on interacting with. it’s a reminder of the fact that you’re assuredly spending too much time locked up in your room thinking about this, but you can’t stop. you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, about him.

thoma was a normal barista at an innocuous cafe. and he was definitely, assuredly not stalking you… right?

you go there fairly often

the estate was a dimly unpopular cafe set right near your dorms, perfectly on the way to most of your classes and not too far out of the way if you wanted a quick bite. despite clearly being a family business, it had managed to partner with the university, and accepted the meal plan you were forced to buy. given its proximity to you and the fact that the other options got rather repetitive, you frequented the small shop. it was never too crowded, so it wasn’t impossible to assume that you were one of the few regulars.

there were exactly two consistent baristas that worked there, with the occasional new face only ever showing for a few days. there was no set uniform, as far as you could tell. one was a young girl, likely another student, who constantly yawned and always had to push up her sleeves to work the register. she didn’t talk much; the one time you had complimented her sweater, she looked at you like you were a raccoon that had waltzed in and tried to pay with cash.

the other was the object of your paranoia: thoma, a chatty redhead who always seemed to drag out the conversation longer than he had to. he didn’t wear a name tag, but did introduce himself after you gave your name for your order, like you were meeting as friends and not in a mercantile exchange. when he handed you your receipt, there was a doodle of a dog in a suit at the bottom wishing you a good day.

your schedule was rather uneven, what with waxing and waning stress and assignments and the various misaligned tests you had to take. but still, you had credits to burn and their menu was solid, so you came back whenever you wanted.

2. he’s just being nice

thoma was an occasionally odd guy, but not overtly strange. he smiled and said hello and goodbye in the regular tone someone in customer service would, provided they were either really enthusiastic about their job or desperately trying not to get fired. he wore a plain black tee and jeans and despite the silver tags around his neck, never really screamed ex-military. he seemed rather young to be deployed anyway…

regardless, he was still just a normal guy. it was normal to memorize someone’s order if they came back so often, right? normal. it was normal to ask why you looked tired, or what had happened if you were in a better mood, or to wish you luck if you were about to head to class.

he was a normal, nice guy. he never made a big deal if you came in near closing time—in your defense, their hours seemed to shift from week to week—and still recited your usual back to you in case it had changed.

it never did. his smile was proud whenever you said so.

he was forgiving, from what you could see. whenever another staff member made a mistake, or if a customer dropped something, or if a funny looking bird flew by the window and he spilled whatever he was holding, he was quick to laugh it off. he laughed a lot, actually. rarely was any visit when he was working devoid of it, whether loud and excited or quietly amused. when he wasn’t, he wore an easygoing grin, the kind that implicitly forgave you for tripping over your words or the rug by the front door. he worked quickly and quietly and sometimes you’d find you were given a discount “just because.”

3. you’re probably overthinking things.

the problem had started around the same time midterms did.

the attendees at the tables grew sparser, busy studying or sleeping or praying. there were days when you’d walk in and be the only one there, aside from whoever was at the counter that day. when you walked in, you had just enough time to see the deep frown etched on thoma’s face before it slipped away, customer service smile back on his face.

you debated over whether to ask the entire time you waited. it was the polite thing to do, wasn’t it? it wasn’t as if you were friends, but still. if someone’s sad, you ask why. that’s the normal thing to do..

he still called your name, despite you being the only one there. how did this place stay afloat? surely there was some bigger chain willing to pay the rent. the middle of a college campus was the best spot for a place selling caffeine..

now that you thought about it, why was this place so quiet?

you shook it off and went to pick up your drink, finding a small pastry there instead. you blinked, looking up to correct him, but he was already looking at you with the same smile as always.

“they’re going to go out of date soon,” he explained, “and we over-ordered, anyway. take as many as you want!”

…odd. this didn’t look like a new building. did they not know business slowed around this time?

but not too far out of order. you took the freebie, waited a few minutes longer for your drink, and went on your day.

reasons TO think he is stalking you:

he knows where you are

you, like everyone else, had assignments due, and tests to get to. your free time dwindled to a select few naps, and your, like everyone else’s, trips to the cafe slowed to a stop.

and yet, the next time you visited, he knew.

he knew.

you dragged yourself through the doors on a spur of whim, determined to reward yourself for making it through the past few weeks. god, you were tired. you blinked the exhaustion from your eyes long enough to find the barista on shift; thoma, as usual, greeted you with a smile.

“welcome back! same as usual?”

you nodded, digging through your wallet, but instead of punching in your order as usual, he reached behind him, setting down a to-go cup in front of you.

it was still steaming.

you froze, the sight settling into your exhausted mind, unable to even force your hands to pay.

why the fuck did thoma know you were coming back today?

you didn’t even know you were coming. this was an impulse, an idea you barely thought through.

after what you can only assume is too long, he lets out a laugh. not nervous, or uncomfortable, but the same casual laugh as when he spills something while someone’s watching. your eyes find his, easygoing and bright.

“i hope you’re not too surprised,” he starts, like you’re not keenly aware of every beat of your heart. “i just figured you should get some rest as soon as possible.”

is it worse, you wonder, if he just made the same drink every day until you came back and simply got lucky? that’s the only answer that doesn’t involve you calling student services, but even that makes your skin crawl. you pay as fast as you can and grab the drink, rushing the rest of the trip back to your dorm.

it went cold on your desk, too unnerving to ever take a sip of.

2. he knows your schedule

it took… a lot of mental energy to force yourself back to the estate. you didn’t even want to go, not really, but the other options nearby either didn’t take school credits or simply tasted worse. you didn’t know what it was, but it was always off. too strong, too weak, with an odd aftertaste. it was a different problem every time, one that wore down your resistance.

nothing was better than a (technically not) free pick-me-up. you had all these credits anyway, you might as well use them on something you actually liked, right?

it’s not like you were known for making good decisions, okay? maybe… maybe it was just a fluke? maybe you could ask him about it. there’s even a chance that it’s not him working the counter!

…yeah, not a chance. a quick glance inside shows the same bright copper hair as always… though the girl is at the register this time, and he’s in the back. there’s only a handful of other people inside, so you’re probably fine.

you walked in, the bell ringing, a few patrons looking up on instinct. the girl at the register does the same right as thoma abandoned the order he was working on, tapping her on the shoulder. “sayu, let me handle this one, okay?”

great. sayu, apparently, looks at you with what you can only describe as pity, shrugging and returning to the back counter. you stood a bit further from the counter than normal, but thoma still continued to smile.

“hey there! your usual?”

he looked so normal. you couldn’t ignore how pleasant his smile was, how easily he waved like he wasn’t the reason you stayed up until the sun rose, unable to look away from the cup on your desk. it almost annoyed you, knowing he probably didn’t even think about it. so you grabbed that irritation, twisted it into words, and pushed it through your teeth; “how did you know when i was going to come here?”

for a moment, his smile faltered. his laugh was quieter, nervous, nothing like before. he shrugged, pushing up the bandana around his forehead, green eyes avoiding yours. “ah, lucky guess?”

you’re a lot of things. stupid is.. probably on that list, given your presence here, but you’re not stupid enough to believe him about that. to his credit, he seems to recognize that, shoulders slumping with a sigh.

“okay, that’s a lie. i’m sorry.” he shakes his head, as if chiding himself for trying. “one of my friends happened to see you, and he said you looked upset. i thought you might appreciate the thought…?”

yeah, you might, if that wasn’t a fucking insane thing to do.

he looks sheepish enough, or as much as one can when it’s clear he doesn’t actually feel bad for what he did.

“…don’t do it again. it’s weird.”

it’s comical, how much he brightens, standing straighter like a flower finally put in the sun. “of course! if you don’t mind the wait, then i’m not complaining.”

that should have been it. you paid, you waited, and though sayu is the one that makes your drink it’s thoma that called you up to the counter. it’s a constant, at this point, same as your order and the chipper grin as he handed you your drink instead of leaving it there, a wax bag in his other hand.

“take this as an apology,” he explains, “i really didn’t mean to unnerve you.”

sure. you’re willing to believe that, if only for the sake of normalcy. you took both, the warmth easing your tense hands.

he lingered. he always did. he stood, and waited, and when he had enough of your staring, he spoke. “if there’s anything else i can do, just let me know. i could even give you my notes to study, if you want! i know you’ve got a test coming up.”

you’re learning to hate his smile. it’s so easy, his words soft and fluid with a genuine curiosity that sent chills across your skin.

there’s the possibility that he just also attends school. you’re aware of that. you swallowed your fear and managed the breath to ask what you really, really didn’t want to know. “do you also have ms yae?”

if you had access to a time machine… well, you’d stop yourself from ever stepping foot in the estate to begin with. but if you couldn’t do that, you’d come back to that instant, and keep yourself from ever asking such a stupid question.

some things were better unsaid. never did you understand that more than when thoma replied, eyes as sharp as a blade of grass.

“of course not. but you do, don’t you?”

you put your pen down, the ink from your anxious tapping now covering most of the upper corner of the page.

you hate it. you hate it. you hate that you wrote his name willingly, you hate that you’re so shaken by something you could have easily avoided, you hate that your life has taken such a turn.

you should have just stayed gone. you’ve stopped now, but now he knew you were stuck here for this semester. leaving mid-term would wreak havoc on your transcript, let alone your grades or schedule or however you were supposed to find another college to attend on such short notice.

you refocus on your list. objectively speaking, there’s more reasons to think this is normal, but the downside of lists like this is that they failed to fully capture the way your heart had dropped that day.

it was a month ago. a month, and you haven’t been able to stop looking over your shoulder whenever you went outside. you should really just call someone…

would student services be open at this hour?

you dig through the school’s website for a bit, but only find an address and a phone number for the department head. what “department” this falls under, you’re not sure, and you’re not keen on making a call less than an hour before midnight, so you don’t ask either. no dice. not for a few hours, at least. it’s just you, not really alone in your dorm, both because of the phantoms in your periphery and the fact that the walls are thin, letting you hear the cheers and disappointment of whatever game they’re playing in the common room.

it’s a bit of an anchor. the world is still going to turn, after all, and you need to be ready to meet it; you need to rest. being on edge for so long is wearing you down, and the weight on your shoulders will only grow if you keep sitting here. after a moment to consider the paper, you rip the list of your worries into short shreds, dumping the remains into the trash. you stand, stretch, and begin to tidy up, plugging in your phone and reaching for your water bottle, only to find it empty. you must have forgotten to refill it in your panic.. you look to the door, mentally weighing the benefits of going out and refilling it. there’s people in the common room, and you’re not too keen on being looked at right now, but it’s not as if they’re the ones plaguing you. it’s a common room for a reason, and filling it now will reduce the number of things to do tomorrow morning.

in search of a blessing for your future self, you unlock and open your door, the voices getting louder. some are familiar, but you shelve the memories. you have a mission. you unscrew the cap as you walk, aiming for the small kitchenette against the wall. archons willing, you won’t even have to interact with anybody. you walk, avoiding their eyes and even doing a rather good job at it, in your opinion. you fill your bottle, lingering just long enough to get the cap on without spilling anything, and turn to leave.

in a moment of weakness, you glance at the tv. there’s some sort of pvp game going on, with both players and bystanders crowded around the lone couch, most watching the ebb and flow of victory in earnest.

most, except one. on the floor, hands neatly in his lap, is the last person you want to see. he’s missing his bandana, but he still has that same smile, one gloved hand raised in a familiar wave.

you don’t think about what he’s said or done. you don’t think about the fact that you definitely should have told your roommates not to let him in. no, all you can think about is the fact that he now knows where you live, right down to the suite number.

it takes a lot of effort to drag your eyes away, pulling your feet into the dorm. you don’t want to think about how much effort it will take to leave tomorrow.

you don’t want to think about what could be waiting for you.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #gender neutral reader #thoma #genshin thoma #thoma x reader #x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin x you #yandere genshin impact #yandere thoma #<- is that not a popular tag #guys. i'm disappointed in you #yan thoma . the potential . do you not Get him . guys #yandere #oh i gotta uhhh #tw stalking #stay safe out there kids . please god call 911 if this ever happens to you holy shit #fun fact this post is like 8hrs late bc i was busy being homo abt . god so many people guh #kamisato ayato the man that you are holy #btw . it was initially written that you dorm w a kamisato twin but w the Gender stuff involved there it would have been really clunky;#and their personalities are so different that would have been awkward too so . this is a secret for you tag readers out there. thumbs up .#stupid fucking tag character limit let me YAP . freak ass website #this is such a lukewarm post im sorry . in my defense . i dont have one mb #what is it abt the kamisato estate that makes everyone inside it insane and also so edible #i need to crunch him like glass

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ilydeku · 1 year ago

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‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎How to Love a Hero

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎← menu →

01. ENCOUNTER

‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎9:13pm | Fri, April 28

Pen Square, a not-to-shabby small bookshop conveniently located just remote to your apartment. It's name was well unknown and there weren't many avid customers to preserve it, but you didn't mind at all—you pretty much kept its existence intact. It was like the bookshop practically belonged to you. The oakwood bookshelves that gave off a sort of earthy scent, the beanbag chairs that lie at every corner, the novels old and new practically whispering your name everytime you strolled down an aisle. Not to mention that the shop owner was quite gracious of you being a regular, and quickly caught on to your favorite genres and plots. There was just no bookstore like ol' Pen Square.

"Looking for something sweet, hm?" The owner grins, propping up their arm on the register table. They've noticed your fixation, a slow circling pace around the romance shelving.

"Eh. Just looking for now." You answer with a shrug. "Trying to see if I can find something new besides my series. Oh, isn't the new one out yet?" You inquire and they answer by a show of the newly released novel of the series in hand.

With great excitement, you beelined toward the register, but that joy was quickly plucked from your chest and replaced with fear as one of the bookshelves suddenly came towering over you.

Fortunately, the bookshelf caught onto the next like a failed domino attempt, caging you from harm, except for the tumbling rain of volumes.

"Ah! I'm so sorry—are you alright?" An anxious voice exclaimed from behind the inclined bookshelf. Chips of oakwood were scattered around you on the old floor, along with books opened and flipped over. The owner quickly came running to the scene, first to squawk at the one responsible, then to assist you out of the situation.

"—now clean up this mess or so help me—you okay dearie? You're not hurt are you?"

You shake your head as you're pulled out from under the unfolded ruckus, taking a quick glance at the person gathering the stray novels. But as he looked up, you couldn't help the slightest bit of entrance. He was a burly young man, verdant disheveled curls that framed his plain, but pleasant face adoringly. Curious round eyes and emerald irises, virtually glowing at the sight. The light blue sweater cascaded over his black tee and shorts loosely, red shoes creasing as he sat up to mind you more clearly. He spoke gently, his voice placate and collected.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about that. I was just looking for a couple comics," elaborated he, his eyes darting to the mess before him. "But then I saw these books under the bookshelf and well...I guess I didn't realize they were supporting it." A guilty, lopsided grin played across his lips. No surprise to you that that bookshop couldn't even stand on its own. The owner escorted you back to the register and handed you the new edition, sealed and bagged with care, along with a few other nick nacks.

‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎!! Accolade Aquired:

‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Sour Dreams" Soft Candy !!

You were quick to take out your wallet and the money, but the owner stopped you, sliding it back and simply noted: "It's on the house...for the troubles." A dirty look casted in the direction of the guy on all fours.

The muffled chittering of crickets began to arouse as the great dark descended over the skies. It was getting late, and you knew better than to stay up the day before work. The 12 hour shifts at the hospital will absolutely bite you in the back in return.

Thanking the owner, you turn to step out into the night, but you find yourself momentarily glancing back toward the guy with verdant hair and the illuminated streets just outside the entrance.

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎What will you do?

#how to love a hero #w.midizu #izuku x reader #deku x reader #midoriya x reader #deku x y/n #izuku x y/n #izuku x you #deku x you #izuku midoriya x y/n #izuku midoriya x you #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #deku #bnha x reader #deku fluff #deku headcanons #deku imagine

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cherrygirlfriend · 4 months ago

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the process

pairing: gynecologist!nanami x reader synopsis: you go to get artificial insemination. your gyno has a different method. warnings/tags: smut, artificial insemination, unprotected piv, breeding kink, public sex, small surprise at the end, MDNI! wc: 1.2k a/n; i posted another version of this for another character, but since i was debating between who i wanted it to be about, i pretty much just decided to make one for nanami too

nanami masterlist ♡

you nearly hopped to your feet when the door to one of the offices opened, clutching your purse like it was the only thing keeping you afloat. "come in." nanami said with a small smile on his lips, gesturing towards his office.

you followed the tall man into the sterile, white office, holding your arms tightly against your chest, your shoulders hunched. when doctor nanami noticed your skittish behavior, he offered a small smile, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder before using it to cup your cheek and lifting it up so you were forced to look at his freckled face, "there's no need to be nervous. this is a pretty regular procedure. you can change into the gown and lay down on the examination table."

you took a few tentative steps towards the examination table, walking on your heels as your gynecologist turned to face you, your chart in his hands, his brown eyes skimming over the details as you sat down onto the examination table, the paper sheet rustling against the paper gown in a way that made you cringe.

"so, how many days ago did you take your last dose of clomid?"

"eight days ago." you said with a tight smile, fiddling with the hem of your gown, "and i did an ovulation test before i left home, and it said my ovulation should be at its highest."

"it helps the sperm to travel if you've got your pelvis propped up." doctor nanami said in a slightly hushed tone, lifting your hips up and placing a pillow underneath your hips, the blond man's hands pressing your hips down to meet it, keeping them there as he looked down at you with a small smile. "there you go. are you comfortable?"

"it does." you swallow dryly, fiddling with the paper sheet underneath you, sighing. "i hope it works out. we've been trying to get pregnant for a year now."

"yeah?" he looked down at you, his eyes crinkling slightly, the feel of the pads of his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he drew small patterns to the hem of your hospital gown. "do you know what people say helps with getting pregnant?"

"what?" you almost whispered, your thighs starting to form goosebumps under doctor nanami's fingers as they slowly slid under the crinkly god-ugly gown, stroking your skin gently.

"orgasms." nanami's hand continued to slide up your inner thigh, the metal of the man's wedding ring a pleasure contrast against your warm skin, "it's never been proven to be accurate, of course." his hand was just under your crotch, drawing infinity-symbols on your skin, a pondering look on his face as he cocked his head to the side, a small smirk appearing on his face, "but it never hurts to be thorough, right?"

doctor nanami had you folded over on the examination table, holding your legs at your sides, his warm lips placing sloppy, hot kisses on your neck as his cock slid out of you before slamming against your cervix, the man letting out a soft breathy laugh at every little gasp or moan that managed to escape your lips.

"how many times do i have to tell you, honey?" he mumbled against your skin, his words intensified by the pace of his hips snapping against yours increasing, a loud yelp leaving you, "you don't need to try and keep quiet. no one's gonna hear us." he breathed out.

the pad kento's thumb found your clit, starting to draw small circles on it as the room was filled with your unsteady breathing combined with the lewd squelch of your pussy every time his hips met yours, "come ooon, let me hear all those pretty little noises... it's not like this is the first time we've fooled around here."

kento tried pulling away from your neck, but you tugged him closer by his hair, "god, kento..." you moaned, pressing him against your neck, the doctor letting out a pleased hum against your skin.

"come on, darling... tell me how much you want me to put a baby in you, yeah?"

"so badly..." your back arched off the examination table while kento's long fingers slid up to your breast, teasing it with small kneads and pinches before his left hand found your hand, your fingers intertwining with his, your matching wedding bands meeting.

"i love you so much... i can't wait for you to be all pretty and pregnant." he smiled against your skin, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

MEANWHILE….

"i wonder what's taking dr. nanami so long..." the receptionist wondered aloud with a frown on her pouty lips, turning to look at the clock on the wall as she tapped her pink fingernails, "i mean, it's almost lunchtime."

the other receptionist let out a snort, interrupting the movement of the file against her long nail, turning to look at the other girl with raised brows, chewing gum. "what, you don't know?"

"know what?"

"oh, this is good." the receptionist laughed, throwing her head back with laughter in her office chair. "you don't know who she is."

"what?" the other girl asked, huffing in annoyance as she grabbed a cheeto out of the bag sitting in front of them.

"that client is mrs. nanami."

"as in-"

"yup, that was doctor nanami's wife." she let out a loud snort of a laugh as she shook her head, grabbing a cheeto before going back to filing her nails. "guess she gets special treatment."

#⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x you #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujustsu kaisen x reader #kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento fanfic

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kyriat-sims · 4 months ago

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Myrto’s Winter Favorites

Winter is hard, but some new clothing in bright colors helps!

One of the hardest thing for me in my Early Civilization save has been dressing up my sims for winter, and unfortunately EA has very few usable meshes. Fortunately I found something functional in the Batuu GP (of all places), and with some modifications and new colors it looks surprisingly fitting for ancient times in my opinion!

You will need the mesh and/or packs for the recolors to show up in your game.

These items are not historically correct, but they don't hurt my eyes in my Early Civ save.

All colors are from my Efrosyni and Knossos palette and from @vintagesimstress Southern Dyes palette. This means a lot of colors, but you can easily remove the ones you don't want using S4S.

Myrto also has summer favorites here.

Winter outfit

Mesh:❗Star Wars: Journey to Batuu

for Adults T-E

Found in Body - Long dress/Outerwear

69 swatches + a plain white for your own RC

Custom thumbnail

Disabled for random

Sweater

Mesh: ❗Cats & Dogs

for Adults T-E

Found in Top - Sweater

54 swatches

Custom thumbnail

Disabled for random

Skirt

Mesh:❗Star Wars: Journey to Batuu

for Adults T-E

Found in Bottoms - Skirts

48 swatches

Custom thumbnail

Disabled for random

Shawl (hijab)

Mesh:❗Star Wars: Journey to Batuu

for Adults T-E

Found in Hats - no brim

54 swatches

Custom thumbnail

Disabled for random

TOU: Don’t upload and claim as your own. You may include with sims if you give credit with a link to this post, but please don’t upload to paysites or behind ad.fly.

📥 Download (SFS)

📥 Download (Patreon - always free)

Happy simming! 💕

Hello @allhistoricalcc - @anitasims - @emilyccfinds - @itsjessicaccfinds - @mmfinds

@public-ccfinds - @sssvitlanz

Thank you for sharing! 💕

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yeoja-dream · 1 year ago

Note

Could you write an ot7 x reader fic where the reader feels they arent good enough because they're not particularly skinny but not fat and feels they're not that talented compared to the boys? Pretty angsty but some fluff? ❤

God. You sigh inwardly looking at your body for the millionth time in the standing mirror of your bedroom, jeans unbuttoned wide, mocking. The perspiration on your brow from exertion tells the rest of the story.

You had gained weight. Again. As if it wasn't hard enough to be the girlfriend of the seven most talented men on the earth, all muscle and grace. The picture of masculine beauty, and you, textbook mediocrity.

You kick the pants off in anger, hot tears stinging your eyes as you flop back onto your bed. You are going to be late for work. You scolded yourself. Fuck work. You snapped back like the world would come to a screeching halt if one cashier at Francine's was 15 minutes late.

What happened to the diet? Your inner critic asks, voice dripping in bitter sarcasm. They work so hard and you can't even look good for them? People would laugh if they saw you together.

Your phone buzzes, bringing you temporarily out of your shame spiral. You wipe away your now-flowing tears to see the message light up your screen.

Jiminnie ❤️: Good morning everyone ꜀( ˊ̠˂˃ˋ̠ )꜆

You smile somewhat bittersweetly to yourself. Jimin, always the first one up, always the first to tell everyone good morning. You recall, briefly, the day when Tae beat him to the punch and how he pouted the whole day.

Y/N: Morning chim~ Have an amazing day today! ❤️

Jiminnie ❤️: You too!!

Have an amazing day. Well, you could certainly try. You pick yourself off your bed and select a frumpy sweater and a baggy pair of jeans. It was cold, anyway, you told yourself disguising your plummeting self-esteem in faux practicality. You studied your face in the mirror, plain, if not a little pretty, but certainly not superstar-worthy. You swipe on some waterproof mascara and don your sneakers before the self-criticism has a chance to sink in.

Work was awful. You were so swept off your feet with customers, that you had barely had time to glance at your phone in between getting screamed at for not carrying certain sizes or being out of stock. You had slipped to the stock room more than once to put your waterproof mascara to the test. Last double I ever work. You say to yourself, shutting the lights, arming the security, and slipping out the back.

The autumnal night air had a wintery bite to it, you regret not bringing a jacket. It is only now that you have the chance to read your phone, slightly wincing at the piled notifications from the day. Most recently, you read:

Yoongi 😻: Finished working with Namjoon a little while ago. You must be done soon too. It’s cold, so I am going to come and pick you up. Did you eat?

Y/N: How presumptuous, Mr. Min~

Your tone is sardonic, but really, you're glad for the ride as a chill begins seeping into your bones. Before long, you see his black sports car pull up and you waste no time jumping in the front. You had done this routine before.

“Hi,” Yongi says, looking you up and down before leaning in for a kiss.

“Hi,” you say back, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“What? Is that all I get?” He quips in faux hurt. “Oh did you want to make out right now, leave Namjoon to drive?” You tease back before turning to face the man in the back seat. “Hi,” You greet him as well, offering him your hand.

“Don’t let me stop you” Namjoon says with a chuckle, “I just didn’t know you were looking to die today.” He then picks up your hand, placing a gentle kiss on the knuckle. “Hi, baby.” He said with his signature, dimpled smile. The sight of which clenches your heart, the words from your shame spiral this morning coming back full force. You don’t deserve this.

“Where am I dropping you off?” Yoongi asked. “Did you eat? We could get dinner.”

“My place, please. I had a big lunch and I think I’m just going to reheat some leftovers for dinner. You guys go ahead.” You lie, but you were in no mood to be eating food in front of them.

Yoongi looked at you, piercingly as he always does. Just when you think he’s going to call you on your lie,

“Alright.” He says, before putting the car in gear. Your apartment is only 10 minutes away, but Yoongi goes the long way letting you rant about stupid customers and annoying managers. By the time he pulls up, you feel better and you realize, he knew you needed that. A lump forms in your throat at the notion. You offer the pair a kiss, before sliding out of the car as quick as you can go, lest you start crying again. Yoongi waits until you’re inside, safe before pulling off. He always does. You don’t deserve him. You don’t deserve them.

Dinner is another mental warzone as you peruse your kitchen, biting commentary from two halves of your inner voice. After what happened this morning you don’t deserve to eat. The boys wouldn’t want me to starve. You’d be so much prettier if you were skinny. Starving isn’t a good way of weight loss anyway. The mental back and forth is exhausting, so you settle on a sandwich and settle on the couch.

TaeTae: You wanna ft? I miss youuuuuu why didn’t you come over today???

The message lights up your phone. You respond by calling him. He picks up right away.

“Y/N!” He exclaims. Even disheveled, he looks amazing. After catching up on the group chat, you learned that the maknae line had the day off and had a “staycation” as they put it while the hyungs were busy away.

“Hi Tae” You giggle back at his enthusiasm. It was infectious, it always was.

“Why didn’t you come over today?? We missed you!” He pouts.

“I am tired, Tae. And I have work early tomorrow and the following day. All doubles.”

“Jeez. I swear you work harder than us!”

You could laugh at the insinuation. They were multinational artists, constantly writing music, performing, dancing, recording music, recording content, and you folded clothes and got screamed at by people 10x richer than you for 12 hours a day. You would hardly call that working harder. You keep the thought to yourself.

“EY YO.” You hear Jungkook's unmistakable voice shout in the background. “IS THAT Y/N?”

“Yes, but I’m talking to her!” Tae says ripping the phone away from his dongsaeng as he flopps down on the couch next to him.

“Hey, I wanna talk too!” He says, yanking the older boy’s arm back so the two of them come into view.

“Hi, kookie.” You say, giving him a small wave.

“Y/N! I’ve been locked in the house all day with these schmucks, can you believe that?” Jungkook says, exasperated.

“Hey!” Tae shouts, offended. “You weren’t complaining about being locked in when me and Jimin brought you pancakes in bed. Or when we did face masks and painted our nails!”

“Yeah, we did our nails, look!” Jungkook says, ignoring the rest of Taehyung’s remarks. On Jungkook's hand, he has nicely painted black nails, on Taehyung a well-manicured clear coat.

“You did an amazing job!” You say giving them a small round of applause.

“We miss you.” The youngest says after a few beats of silence. The sincerity pulls at your heart.

“It's only been a week.” You say sticking your tongue out. “I miss you all too.” That at least was the whole truth.

“Well you’re busy and we’re busy…” Taehyung trailed off. You understood what he was getting at. No matter what you felt for them, there was always going to be miles of difference between you and them. Different leagues, solar systems.

“But don’t be busy this weekend! Saturday~” Jungkook reminds you AGAIN. The boys had been teasing you for weeks about this surprise. You couldn’t forget if you wanted to.

“I have to go to bed.” You half whine, stretching.

“GOOD NIGHT WE LOVE YOU SLEEP WELL” They yell at you in half unison before hanging up.

“I love you too.” You say to no one, before getting up and going to bed.

And so the days passed like that, days rushed off your feet, nights full of loud face times, and spare thoughts dedicated to your inadequacy. Pushing every single worry, every bitter thought down, lest you worry them with your stupid problems. They had plenty on their plate. You were so boring, untalented, plain. They shown brighter than the sun, thousands of beautiful, perfect successful girls would kill to be you. Should be you. You lucked into this position. Just because you were in the right place at the right time. Just because Jin was so friendly. You tricked him. He just introduced you to everyone else because he pitied you. They just pity you. You can’t even be happy around them. You can’t even be fun for them. What do you provide them? It was suffocating. They deserve better. They deserve better. They deserve better.

Friday night you walk home, music blasting through your earbuds, tears running down your face. It was the wind, you say to no one, bitterly wiping them on your sleeve. You finally understood what you had to do. Saturday, when you met up, you’d thank them for everything, and let them find someone worthy. For their own sake. You wouldn’t let them waste any more time on you.

Sleep was fitful and tear-stained that night, the night soon passed, and Saturday morning came.

The group chat through the day was uncharacteristically silent, save for Jimin’s obligatory good morning text. Fuck, you were going to miss that.

In terms of the plans tonight, you had been given instructions to show up at a certain place by 5 pm. Even when inquiring about what you should wear was vague, anything you felt like. You felt like crawling into a ball of self-pity and hiding under the sheets, but still, you pulled yourself together enough to ready yourself for anything. Pulling the place up on Google Maps revealed it to be a warehouse of sorts. Weird. You thought, clipping your earrings in and pulling your shoes on as the Uber blared its horn obnoxiously outside.

You went for something practical, but cute. Tennis skirt with thigh-high socks, a button-down blouse to match, and a puffer jacket. Makeup was light, and minimal. Cry proof, you were going to break up with 7 men you had come to love after all. It was for their own good. You reminded yourself.

The ride itself was as blissfully silent as an Uber ride can be, and not long. Outside of general city limits, there was marginally less attention and fewer chances of a slip-up. Being seen with you was the last thing they could afford.

The Uber pulled away leaving you in front of a large, white warehouse. This was some kind of industrial complex, you noted. Double checking the warehouse number with the number JK had sent to you 2 weeks prior. This was the place.

A feeling of unsettlement crossed your mind now, in the time you had known these men they had never once given you pause to worry, let alone make you feel unsafe. And yet, here you were, alone in a line of massive, empty warehouses. A bit of fear began to prickle under your skin and your scalp. They wouldn’t hurt you, right? Hell, maybe this is the merciful way out. A dark side of you thought.

Without wasting any more time, you stepped forward opening the door and stepping into total blackness.

The temperature was fine, temperate even. The scent of woodland, peat moss, and petrichor was thick in the air. Seconds in the dark felt like hours, panic sets in and you take a step backward, feeling for the door. Before you can grasp the handle, the lights come on all at once, and several voices shout HAPPY ANNIVERSARY at you.

You visibly jump, startled, but then audibly gasp at the scene before you. The warehouse had been decorated, floor to ceiling to resemble an enchanted forest. Large trees stood relatively tall in the vaulted ceiling of the space, their gnarled limbs covered in deep green vegetation, moss hanging from them like beards. Lights and glass baubles hung too, their glittering looking like forest spirits in suspended animation. Impossibly, from somewhere high and unseeable, light streamed down through the tree tops, golden and warm as the real sun. The floor seemed to be made of real, deep green moss that squished slightly under your feet. You noticed that there seemed to be several large stones forming stepping stone paths through the moss and into the fake woods. Feint music and animal chatter could be heard too, bringing the space to life. In front of you sits a large, stone arch, twisted with vines and seemingly weathered with time, though which was a clearing, where sat 7 of the most beautiful men you had seen in your life at a long, beautifully decorated, rich dark wood table.

The boys had dressed themselves in complete congruence with the environment. They each wore long hair of varying lengths some shoulder length, some to the waist, but all done up in a manner of braids, flowers, and gems. Each wore a manner of robes and belts of several different colors, draped and tied perfectly to emphasize their physique. It hits you at once what this all is, and nothing could stop the torrent of tears that spring forth as a result.

“Oh! Wait, those seem like upset tears!” Jin is the first up and rushing over to you. “We were hoping for happy tears not upset tears!”

“God damn it you guys I told you so many times we should say something and that we were going to scare the shit out of her on accident!” Namjoon said in a huff, standing up and making his way over to you. The rest follow behind, all echoing cheer-ups and apologies alike.

You sob openly now into your hands, and even with all 7 of the men you have grown to love surrounding you, you lock your abs and you don’t allow one to pull you into a comforting embrace. Jin is the first to speak again.

“Y/N, what has gotten into you? We just wanted to do something nice and memorable for our 1st anniversary together.” Jin said with a level of love, concern, and sincerity that something in you finally snapped.

“Why. Are. You. Being. So. Fucking. Nice. To. Me.” You ask, demand in between heaving sobs.

“Because we love you!” Jungkook answers first, and everyone answers in the affirmative.

“I. Am. Fucking. Worthless.” You sob again.

“Don’t say that!” Jimin says this time, trying to grab you, hold you. You resist him again.

“First I am so up my own ass I can’t be bothered to remember that it's our anniversary, and you guys go and do something so nice, so beautiful for me. I can’t give you anything. All I do is take. You are all so perfect and beautiful and talented and I am just a plain worthless girl, working a dead-end job, with a shitty flabby body and plain face who tricked you guys into caring for me. I drag you down. We live in different worlds and I am tired of watching you all pretending I’m worth anything more than a cheap fuck.” The words fall out in a blubbering mess, a stream of words, feelings, and sentiments bursting forth after being pent up for a year. You can’t bring yourself to look at anyone in particular, so you study the floor.

“Enough.” The voice rings out so sternly it stops your torrent almost in its place. You look up as Hoseok, who had been standing behind everyone else, pushes his way to the front, standing directly in front of you. His face, normally the definition of sunshine and joy, only held fury.

“First of all.” He began, clipped and stern. “That dead-end job keeps you so busy you hardly have time to eat and shower, so you’d be forgiven for forgetting.”

“But- You begin before Hoseok cuts you off.

“I am not finished. Second, I’m grateful for that dead-end job because it lead us to you. If you hadn’t been working at that boutique, Jin-hyung would never have met you, and I wouldn’t have ever met you in return. Lastly,” He begins, stepping forward another step, holding your face in between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to make eye contact with him. “You can talk shit about anyone you’d like, but you are not ever to speak that way about anyone I love. Not to me, not to any of them. And further, you are not ever, and I do mean ever, to tell me who I am and am not permitted to love.”

At this angle, you search his face, and you find anger, so much anger, but more so you find hurt and love and honesty. Tears well again in your eyes, but this time when Hoseok pulls you into his arms, you don’t resist him. One by one, everyone piles into what is, ostensibly, the cheesiest group hug ever, but you can’t find it in you to care. You cry again for what seems like ages, breathing in the mixing scent of them and allowing yourself, finally, to let them love you.

After your crying stills, you break apart and survey the group, more carefully this time. They had even themed their outfits around it.

“My dream.” you sniffle and gesture to them, then the set behind them. “Our first group date, I told you about a dream I had as a little girl. The enchanted forest and its 7 protectors. You even dressed up as them.” You say in a half laugh. “The dragon,” you said gesturing to Namjoon, “Gumiho,” You say pointing to Jimin, “Hydra,” You say pointing to Yoongi, “Fae King, Werewolf, Griffin, and Phoenix,” You say, pointing to Jin, Jungkook, Hoseok, and Jimin respectively.

“The very same,” Yoongi says with a bow.

“Wow…” You say, breathless. A silence falls on the group before you speak up once again. “I am… sorry.” You start.

“Don’t be!” Various maknae line members clamor to interrupt you.

“Let her finish,” Namjoon says sternly.

“I have been feeling this way for a long time. I think it's been building up from the beginning, actually. I have always felt like you guys were all a billion times more attractive than me, and I started to feel like on top of that, I was talentless and useless in comparison. I never wanted to burden you with my insecure ramblings so I kept them buried and I guess they ate me alive a little. A lot. Truthfully I came here ready to break up with you.”

“What?!” The group of voices collectively reacts.

“No I mean I didn’t want to but I felt super useless and ugly so I thought you were just wasting your time with me I mean I love you all so much and I feel so grateful and lucky to have you but it was for your own good that you found someone else-” You begin spouting off.

Jin takes your hand, interrupting your stream of consciousness “I thought we’d exchange the sweet stuff at dinner but there is no greater time than now. I consider meeting you to be one of the luckiest days of my life. And I know I can speak for everyone and say this past year, you have brought so much joy and intrigue and fun into our lives and we wouldn’t give you up for anything or anyone.”

“Besides.” Yoongi grabs your other hand, giving it a light kiss. “You are a terrible liar. I could see you were suffering from something inside. I know what that's like.”

“AND” Jungkook adds loudly “NOT THAT IT IS ABOUT THIS” he begins loudly, “AND WE VALUE Y/N THE MOST FOR HER KINDNESS, HER CONSIDERATION, HER WORK ETHIC, HER SPUNK-”

“Get to the point.” The group says collectively.

“Y/N to me, to us, you are a work of art. You can’t see yourself the way we do. Your face belongs in a Monet, your body is as if it was sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. Even the little things you do, the way you tie up your hair when you are trying to concentrate when you throw your head back and laugh when something is really funny, when you pace around the apartment when you're on the phone, you are beautiful”

“Aw, kookie…” You clasp your hand around your mouth, before wrapping your arms around him.

“God please no more tears,” Taehyung says, desperately.

You laugh, letting go of Jungkook. “Tae, I don’t think I have any left in my body.”

“Listen, everyone, I can’t promise you this discussion is going to make the voice telling me I’m inadequate to go away. But what I can promise is that I will talk about them. I won’t let them build up so bad.”

“That’s all we would ask of you,” Namjoon says in return. “Besides I’m kind of worried who the hell we’ve been dating this last year if you think we are perfect!”

“Without getting personal,” Jimin pipes in “We are all at least a group of barely functional, workaholic perfectionists who don’t eat enough, don’t sleep enough, and who care far too much what the public thinks of us. And that's just what applies to all of us, forget our individual faults.”

“True…” You concede. “Is it still too late to enjoy whatever this is?” You ask, gesturing toward the table.

“No not at all!” They all scramble away, leading you to the table. You immediately notice that apparently, a meltdown was not in the card for the evening, as lit candelabras were now dripping hot wax onto the table runner. Various foods dotted the table, sat in warming dishes to ensure they didn’t get cold while they waited. It was a variable fragrant smorgasbord, and you were starving.

“I feel a little underdressed…” You admit, looking at them and then at your outfit. “You guys could have at least told me the dress code.” You said, teasing.

“OH SHIT RIGHT.” Jungkook jumps forward, bowing deeply and putting on a commanding tone. “Fae king, get the lady her vestments at once!”

Jin rolls his eyes at the younger’s commanding tone, but reaches under the table and pulls out a large, white box. From which he pulls out a deep green dress with several accessories and piles them into your hands. “If the lady would be so kind to change over there.” He said, gesturing to a tasteful rice paper screen that stood about 30 feet to the side of the table.

“She would.” You say, giving a little curtsey, walking off to change. The dress was form-fitting but in all the best ways. What you didn’t notice before, was that the dress was heavy, dotted with crystals made to look like you were covered in the morning summer dew. Over your shoulders sat a long cape made of leaves, arranged in the gradient from green, to yellow, to orange, to red, to brown. Atop your head, a crown of wildflowers and fruit tree blossoms, and a scepter for you to carry, clear crystalline in its structure, topped by a frosted glass orb from inside which, a dull blue light shown.

“It’s clearly season-themed…” You begin as you step from behind the screen. “But why?” You ask, taking in their expressions.

Your heart rate quickens and you feel the heat rise to your face as the group goes silent, somewhat slack-jawed. Some wear expressions of hunger, and desire, others of pure awe and love, but no doubt you hold all their attention.

“What?!” You ask demandingly, embarrassed.

“You look…” Jimin starts

“Perfect.” Yoongi finishes.

“Thank you” You offer, voice unsure. You somewhat walk over to them feeling awkward, but flattered.

“Queen of the forest.” Taehyung offers.

“Huh?”

“Queen of the forest.” He repeats. “That’s what your dream was missing. We protect the forest, but we still needed a queen.”

The depth of the metaphor forms a lump in your throat. You clear it before speaking. “Well, it’s beautiful. This is all so beautiful. Thank you, I cannot express my gratitude enough.”

“Thank you. For being here. For being you. You are everything we need you to be.” Jimin said with a sweet smile. “Shall we eat?”

And with that, the evening dinner festivities take off. The lot of you spend the evening drinking too much wine and sharing your favorite stories from the year together. At the end of the night, you go back to their place where you can all snuggle in Namjoon’s massive bed, and as the wine takes you to sleep, it occurs to you that maybe, you are right where you are supposed to be.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the request it only took me 4 years, 9 months, and 18 days to complete

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