#today's bread is: adorable

[lululeighsworld]

it was literally their moment and they just let us watch

(if you need me i'll be marinating in this for the foreseeable future)

[sinistercrows]

As great as it is to see a nice Tim and Bruce moment and just the general family feels can we please talk about this

WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING HERE

1. Why does he have a whole loaf of bread?

2. Why is it not wrapped up in anything? Was it just sitting there in his backpack loose?

3. Does Timothy "I have been a vigilante for years and have trained not only my body but also my mind to be able to take on some of the most fearsome people on the planet" Jackson Drake genuinely think that bread (a whole loaf of white bread) is the best food to bring to a cabin while you prepare to take down evil batman?

4. Why is this thing so huge, it's almost half of his torso, what else could he possibly have in that bag? What? His suit, his wallet, maybe some dried meat and a gigantic loaf of bread... that's it?

5. Why is he holding it out like that? I know it's to show that he has supplies but, like, really... Timmy, baby, stop waving around probably the only piece of food you have.

6. How did this pass through? How has no asked these questions? Has no one at DC ever been camping? Or gone on a hike?

So many questions so little answers...

[sttoru]

 𝝑𝑒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. nanami kento always hurries home towards his pregnant wife, you, to compensate for the time he spends at work.

tags. sheriff!kento nanami x pregnant wife!reader. fluff, sfw. wild west!au. girl dad kento lets go. reader gets called ‘sugar, darling, wife’. not proofread. wc around 1k

you’re comfortable laying on the couch, nibbling on a piece of bread, when you hear the familiar footsteps on the porch of your cozy home. the front door opens with a faint creak and reveals no one other than your husband, kento, in his work uniform. he’s home earlier than he normally would be.

“evenin’, sugar,” kento steps into the house, his tall frame filling the doorway. he looks over at you, a small smile spreading across his exhausted face as he takes in the sight of you sprawled out on the couch.

his eyes soften when they land on the swell of your belly–reminding him of the life you’ve created. both you and the child growing in your stomach are the reason why he works so hard every day. to provide for you and make the pregnancy as easy as possible for your body.

“hi, honey,” you greet him back with a big smile, “how was work?”

it never fails to make you happy; seeing your husband back home after spending the first half of the day alone. knowing kento is out there making sure you and your baby have food on your table at the end of the day is heartwarming.

kento closes the door behind him and the latch clicks into place. “the usual. nothin’ out of the ordinary today. thank the lord,” he answers. he sets his stetson hat down on the hook near the entrance and starts unbuckling his gun belt, the weight of the revolver and ammunition clinking softly. he hangs it up carefully before taking a couple steps towards you.

“aht-aht, don’t ya go gettin’ up now, sweetheart,” kento chuckles as he notices your attempts to get up to greet him like you usually would do. before your belly got this heavy, that is.

he holds out a callused hand towards you, silently urging you to take it. the last thing he wants is for you to pull a muscle. “i’m right here,” he reassures you as he kneels down in front of the couch.

you lean in for a kiss and your husband instantly does the same. his lips linger on yours for a good few seconds before he pulls away. he cups your face with one hand while the other comes to rest on your rounded belly, palm molding to the gentle curve of it.

“y’re getting’ more beautiful every day,” kento praises in a low yet soft voice. he dips his head to press a kiss to your stomach and closes his eyes, “our little girl ‘s also growing well in there, hm?”

“of course,” you reply with a giggle. your hand comes to cover the one on your belly, your hand smaller than your husband’s. your wedding rings shine beneath the sunlight filtering through your windows and it reminds you of the love you share for each other. your eyes meet kento’s and you’re about to lean in for another kiss when you feel your child kick. 

kento’s eyes widen the second he feels a small but distinct movement beneath your belly, your child stirring within you. a slow smile spreads across his handsome face, his eyes crinkling at the corners before he glances up at you with pure adoration. “that–” the blonde man doesn’t finish his sentence, simply looking back at your stomach with pure love and wonder. his thumb gently rubs small circles over the spot where your child had just made her presence known.

“that was our little girl saying hi to her daddy,” you comment with a giggle. you said it half-jokingly, but kento seems to have taken it seriously.

you’re not sure if he’s fighting the tears or if he’s just blinking rapidly and turning his head sideways so you wouldn’t see the emotions playing out on his face. probably both.

kento clears his throat before nodding. he rests his head gently against your stomach, stubbled jaw tickling your bare skin. “hi there, baby girl. You recognised my voice there, didn’t ya?” he chuckles softly, his voice raw with emotion that he tries to suppress. you can’t see his face like this, only the top of his head, but you’re sure that he’s experiencing all kinds of things at the moment.

you run your fingers through his fluffy blonde strands, the hair gel he uses in the morning almost gone by now. a few seconds pass and another faint kick on the side of your belly makes your husband’s breath hitch. it never fails to fascinate him, to make him feel a great sense of joy. 

“i can’t wait to meet ya too,” kento continues, holding a conversation with your unborn daughter like she’s responding to him. in a way she is, with the occasional kick. he sighs in pure content as his muscular arms wrap around your middle, keeping you close to him while he kneels in front of you. 

what he’s feeling is indescribable. a couple moments pass before he tilts his head back to face you again. you cup his face and rub at his cheekbones, smiling at the loving way he’s staring at you. “you’re gonna be a great father, ken,” you whisper. you’re sure of it. he’s a great husband and will be the best father to your child.

kentk smiles back at you and nods. “thank you. I will try my best, for both of you,” he replies with a determined glint in his brown eyes. his large hands massage your belly before giving it a final kiss. “I promise,” he whispers against your sensitive skin.

it’s a promise he will keep no matter what, until he draws his last breath on this earth.

[lamefish]

kento nanami is an anniversary man. nsfw

you think it's sweet, how he has the date of big events in his life on memory. when it's a loss, he'll take the day off to remember, with his head in your lap as he tells stories of whomever has passed. you listen intently, ask questions about them and watch as your husband recounts every good thing about a person.

he celebrates the good, too. almost excessively. the date you met is circled on the calendar, and kento will wake you up with breakfast in bed and a day of doting to show you just how important this anniversary is to him. you turned his world upside down in the best of ways, and what kind of man is he if not one to celebrate the light in his life?

of course, your wedding anniversary too. it's the one he goes all out for: more often than not you put a weekend aside to take a trip and spend some uninterrupted time together. you'll act as newlyweds again, because you still feel like newlyweds despite the passing years, and you'll be reminded over and over just how lucky you are to have found your soulmate in a man like kento nanami.

a man who is sentimental, and so very in love with you. and also celebrates the first time you had sex.

that first year, he had spent the day doting on you so profusely that you were convinced he was going to propose. he was pulling out all of the stops, taking you out fopr an expensive meal, dosing you with fine wines and so many kisses you could get drunk off the taste of him alone. he took you home, ran you a scented bath and took care of the house while you relaxed.

and of course the night ended in mind blowing sex—as your nights usually do. he had insisted on fucking you in missionary despite his recent penchant for taking you from behind and, once he has ripped two orgasms from you and was working on your third, he let it slip.

“we made love for the first time a year ago today,” he whispers against your lips, cock pulsing inside of you as he reaches deep inside of you. “just like this—looking into each others eyes, three orgasms from you, two from me. fell in love with you that night, do you know that honey?”

“you kept track of the day?” you cant finish your sentence without a moan breaking from your throat. “kento, you’re something else.”

“of course i did. it’s an important date, reaching such intimacies—feeling these beautiful velvet walls of yours for the first time… i’ll never forget it.”

you laugh, though it’s quickly swallowed by a kiss from your lover. he rocks his hips into you, feels every inch of his veiny cock disappear inside. he looks down to watch himself sink into you, though his gaze his brought back when you speak.

“three.”

kento blinks. “three what?”

“orgasms from you. you said you had two, but you came a third time right at the end—i milked you dry and you were so sex-drunk and exhausted but you insisted on making me food.” you reach down and grab his hand, the one that had been cupping at your chest, and hold it up for him to see the gentle scar that runs across his thumb. “you cut yourself slicing the bread because i fucked you mindless.”

it comes back to him in gentle flashes. you had, in fact, milked him of a third release. he had just been so out of his mind with nerves and pleasure that the memory had washed itself clean from his mind. he scolds himself mentally for ever daring to forget a detail about being intimate with you, but smiles.

“i remember,” he says. “you told me sex made you hungry so i wanted to incorporate it into your aftercare…”

“silly man,” you wrap your legs around his waist and lick your ankles behind him. with a gentle nudge, he’s forced that tiny bit deeper inside of you. “my silly man.”

kento moans—his eyes flutter shut and his lips catch between his teeth. he adores you—he really does. so much so that the sheer memory of his first time with you is quickly becoming too powerful of a memory to have.

and you, his beautiful other half, laid beneath him with lustful eyes and parted lips, smile up at him. “are we recreating our first time, ken? is that what this is?”

he nods, a little wordless as he tries to keep his mind straight.

“then i think you know what i’m going to do to you, my love.”

he smiles. “milk me for all i have. it’s all yours anyways.”

you lean up and kiss him. it’s slow, gentle, like your first kiss with him was. you taste him wholly on your lips and thank all the divine beings that may exist for putting such a man in your life’s trajectory. his cock twitches inside of you, he fills you out so perfectly.

still, you smile as you roll your hips up to meet his. “just let me handle the aftercare this time.”

[psformybss]

hi angel! i love your work!! do you think you can do drew and actress reader where she’s just like so obsessed with him? like he’s just stood in the kitchen shirtless or something and she can’t keep her hands off him

Slow Mornings

drew starkey x actress!reader

an: hiii, thank you so much! i absolutely adored this idea, i hope i did it justice!

You wake up slowly, to the familiar sounds of a half-awake man making questionable decisions in the kitchen.

There’s the low clatter of pans, the hum of the stove kicking on, and the unmistakable sound of someone muttering under their breath—followed by a sharp “Ow,” and what you’re fairly certain is bacon grease claiming its next victim.

You smile, eyes still shut, tucked beneath a blanket that smells like him.

It’s barely 8 a.m., and there’s sunlight peeking through the curtains in wide stripes, casting soft shadows across the sheets. You know the drill by now. Drew wakes up before you, thinks he’s being quiet, and tries to cook something while half asleep.

And still, it’s one of your favorite things.

You finally drag yourself out of bed and pull on the hoodie hanging off the back of the chair—his, oversized and warm—and pad barefoot into the hallway. The scent of coffee, bacon, and slightly over-toasted bread pulls you the rest of the way.

You find him exactly where you expected: shirtless at the stove, hair sticking up, focus locked in on a pan like it’s fighting back. His pajama pants sit low on his hips, and he has no idea you’re standing there just… watching him. Absently obsessed.

You don’t say anything at first.

Just walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his bare torso, cheek resting gently between his shoulder blades.

He pauses. “You’re lucky I didn’t just throw hot coffee at you.”

“Sounds like a guilty conscience,” you mumble, tightening your grip around him. “Smells like something’s burning.”

“First of all, it’s under control.”

“Is it, though?”

You feel his body shift as he laughs softly and leans back into you a little, letting you cling while he flips something in the pan with the kind of confidence that doesn’t match the smell coming off the stovetop.

You stay quiet for a few seconds, just holding onto him. Hands resting against his warm skin, thumbs moving in lazy circles. It’s not even about anything specific. It’s just him. Just the quiet. Just the fact that this feels better than anything else you’ve got going on today.

“I don’t know what it is about mornings,” you murmur, “but I turn into some clingy, koala version of myself when you start cooking.”

He glances down at you over his shoulder, amused. “I’ve noticed.”

“I make no apologies.”

“You didn’t seem like you were going to.”

You press a kiss to his shoulder and stay there, attached to him while he moves around the kitchen. He adjusts without missing a beat—reaching for the salt, sliding the pan to another burner—all with you wrapped around him like it’s just part of the routine now.

“You really gonna just cling the whole time?” he asks, biting back a grin.

“Yup.”

“No intention of helping?”

“I’m helping emotionally.”

“Oh, well then—thank you for your service.”

You hum, pleased with yourself, and tip your chin to press a light kiss against the back of his neck. He shivers slightly but doesn’t say anything. You catch the smile he’s trying not to show.

He plates the food—eggs, toast, bacon, nothing fancy, but it looks better than you expected. You loosen your grip just enough for him to turn in your arms. His hands settle on your waist, warm and steady.

“You know you can just say you like me,” he teases, raising a brow.

You blink up at him, lips twitching. “You’re alright.”

He leans in before you can say anything else, kissing you soft and slow. No rush, no showy gesture—just the kind of kiss that fits perfectly into a morning like this. Familiar. Sweet. Steady. You feel his hand slide up your back as he presses you a little closer.

You kiss him again—because one’s not enough—and he laughs against your mouth, pulling back just a little, forehead resting lightly against yours.

“You want coffee?” he asks.

“I want you to keep standing here while I stare at you.”

“You are very normal.”

“I’m self-aware.”

He chuckles and brushes his lips over yours once more before moving to grab two mugs from the cabinet. You follow him across the kitchen, arms still loosely looped around his waist.

Because yeah, breakfast is nice.

But this—quiet mornings, no makeup, bare feet, the way he keeps brushing your hair behind your ear without thinking—this is better.

taglist: @kieeslove, @wuluhwuhmaster

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hello my girl! Because Easter is coming up I wanted to request something. Maybe Carlos daughter who doesn't believe in the Easter Bunny because she is scared of him. And her father telling her that it is not the Easter bunny but some other animal. Thank youuu!

Easter Otter🦦

It was early April, and in the Sainz household, that meant one very important thing: Easter was coming.

And Easter, in this house, meant a carefully planned scavenger hunt, homemade chocolate nests, bunny-shaped pancakes, and lots and lots of glitter. It also meant one very adorable little girl bouncing off the walls with excitement.

Four-year-old Yn had been talking about Easter for weeks. Every morning she asked her parents, "Is it today?" and every morning, Carlos would scoop her up and say with a chuckle, "Not yet, princesa, but it’s coming."

Rebecca had already filled a giant pastel pink storage box with everything they needed: decorations, little egg-shaped boxes, colored markers, and tiny baskets for the egg hunt. She even had a stash of small presents wrapped in shiny paper.

But amidst all the excitement, there lingered a familiar problem.

"I don't want the bunny to come," Yn said one afternoon, her big brown eyes wide and worried as she sat on the floor surrounded by stickers and colored paper.

Carlos looked up from where he was untangling some fairy lights. "What bunny, mi vida?"

"The big bunny," she whispered, leaning closer to her dad. "The one from the mall."

Rebecca gave Carlos a knowing look. Here we go again.

Carlos set down the lights and scooped his daughter into his lap. "Ah, I see. The one that surprised you that time, remember?"

Yn nodded solemnly. "He was huge, Papa. Like a giant. And he just stood there. Looking at me."

"It was a costume, baby," Rebecca said gently, kneeling beside them. "Just a person dressed up for fun."

"But it wasn't fun!" Yn insisted, her bottom lip quivering.

Carlos exchanged a glance with Rebecca. They'd tried to explain this a dozen times, but the memory was just too strong for Yn. She'd screamed at the top of her lungs in the middle of the mall when she'd turned around and saw the six-foot Easter Bunny looming behind her. Ever since, she'd been wary of anything rabbit-related.

And with Easter just days away, the stress was beginning to rise.

That evening, after Yn had gone to bed cuddled up with her favorite plush fox and a picture book, Carlos turned to Rebecca with a determined expression.

"We need a new plan."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "You mean no bunny?"

"No bunny," he confirmed. "We're retiring the Easter Bunny. He had a good run, but his services are no longer required."

Rebecca smiled. "Alright then. What do you have in mind?"

Carlos grinned. "Something better. Something cuter. Something less... terrifying."

The next day, he began working on his idea. While Rebecca took Yn to the park, he stayed home, digging through craft supplies, printing out illustrations, and even making a quick run to the toy store.

When Yn came home, she was immediately curious. "Papa, what are you doing?"

Carlos turned around, holding something behind his back. "I have a surprise. But you have to promise not to scream."

Yn's eyes widened. "Is it a lizard?"

"Nope. Better. Close your eyes."

She squeezed her eyes shut, giggling.

"Okay... open!"

Carlos revealed a plush otter, about the size of a loaf of bread, with big shiny eyes, tiny paws, and a pastel blue bowtie around its neck. On its belly, it carried a little Easter basket.

"This," Carlos said proudly, "is the Easter Otter."

Yn blinked at it. Then she reached out slowly and took it from his hands. "Otter?"

"Yes," Carlos said. "From now on, the Easter Otter is in charge of Easter. He hides the eggs. He brings the presents. He leaves you little notes."

"But... what happened to the bunny?" she asked hesitantly.

"He went on vacation."

Rebecca leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and smiling. "Yeah, the bunny needed a break after so many years of hopping around. So the otter offered to take over. He swims instead of hops. Much more relaxing."

Yn hugged the plush otter close. "He’s so cute."

"You like him?"

"I love him," she said, beaming. "Can he sleep in my bed tonight?"

Carlos grinned and pulled his daughter into a hug. "Of course."

The Easter Otter became an overnight sensation in the Sainz household.

By the next morning, the living room had been transformed. There were pastel sea-themed decorations, paper otters hanging from the ceiling, and a trail of blue sparkly paw prints leading from the kitchen to Yn’s room.

She followed them excitedly, finding tiny chocolate eggs tucked under pillows and behind books.

There was even a note written in curly, playful handwriting:

Dear Yn, thank you for letting me visit this year. I hope you like the gifts I hid. Have fun hunting! Love, The Easter Otter.

Yn clutched the note to her chest. "He wrote to me!"

Rebecca watched with tears in her eyes as Yn scurried off to hunt for eggs, the plush otter bouncing in her arms.

"This was a genius idea," she whispered to Carlos.

"I’d do anything for her," he replied, slipping an arm around his wife.

Later that afternoon, Yn grandparents came over, along with a couple of Yn’s aunts. They were expecting a typical Easter setup, but instead, they found the house covered in otters and ocean waves.

"Where is the bunny?" Reyes asked, looking around in confusion.

"He's on holiday," Rebecca said casually.

"Meet the Easter Otter," Carlos added, holding up the plush toy proudly.

"Otter?" Ana, Yn aunt, repeated. "Like the animal that swims?"

"Exactly!" Yn said, running into the room and holding the otter high. "He’s my favorite. He brings eggs and he swims!"

There was a beat of silence. Then Reyes gave a small shrug. "Well... as long as she’s happy."

"She’s more than happy," Rebecca said. "She’s enchanted."

After the egg hunt, the family sat down for a meal. Yn was busy explaining to everyone the otter’s backstory.

"He lives in a lagoon," she said seriously, spooning mashed potatoes into her mouth. "With ducks. And turtles. And he makes jellybean soup."

"That sounds... interesting," Carlos Sr replied with a chuckle.

"He also has a best friend who’s a crab," she added. "But the crab is shy, so he doesn’t come out much."

Carlos leaned over to whisper in Rebecca’s ear. "I think we just created an entire Easter universe."

"You did this to yourself," she whispered back, laughing.

That evening, as the sun began to set and the family lingered in the backyard, Yn climbed onto Carlos's lap, clutching the otter.

"Thank you for making Easter not scary," she said sleepily.

Carlos kissed her head. "You're welcome, mi corazón. The Easter Otter will always be here for you."

"Even when I'm a grown-up?"

"Especially then. He'll just need a bigger basket."

Rebecca looked over at them from her chair, smiling.

"You're a good dad," she said softly.

Carlos looked down at the little girl in his arms, already half-asleep, her curls tangled and face sticky from chocolate.

"She's the best thing we've ever done."

"Agreed."

And as the stars came out and the fairy lights twinkled around them, the Easter Otter lay safely tucked in Yn's arms, guarding her dreams and reminding everyone that sometimes, a little creativity and a lot of love could turn even the scariest things into something magical.

Even a giant bunny.

Especially a swimming otter.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you!

Happy Easter, everyone!

-🤍🦢

[dameronspector]

Calling them by something else than your nickname for them

Pairings: All x GN!Reader

Summary: this is basically inspired by that trend where people call their partners by their names instead of nicknames and because I’ve tried this on my bf, and he gets sad everytime LOL!

Warnings: Brief angst for Bob and Bucky but otherwise, it’s just cutesy stuff <3 wrote this in a hurry, hope y’all like it! please like and reblog 🤭

divider by @saradika

Joaquin Torres

There was this trend going around lately, where people called their partners with their name instead of nicknames. And you just knew that you had to try this on Joaquin because 1) he lived to hear you call him ‘Quino’ or ‘Jay’ or ‘Baby’ and 2) you only called him Joaquin when you had something serious to discuss or when the two of you were fighting.

Letting out a giggle, you decided to try this on him through text first. It was a Sunday, so he was out in the gym with Sam while you were lounging around in your shared bedroom, enjoying a day off from work.

You: Joaquin.

You: Could you go to the store and get some bread? We’re out, and we need it for the sandwich we’re making today.

You knew that he had a special ringtone for your text notifications, so you didn’t have to wait that long before he replied back.

And you were right, approximately a minute later, he replied back and you burst out in laughter.

Quino 💟: ?

Quino 💟: did something happen? are you okay?

Quino 💟: did I do something?

You: ..no? Why?

Quino 💟: 😟

Quino 💟: im coming home

You almost felt bad for freaking him out like that. Almost.

The door opened a few minutes later and—

“Baby?”, he called out as his feet pattered against the hardwood floors, quickly making his way around the apartment to get to you.

You bit your cheek to stop from laughing in his face, busying yourself with your phone by pretending to read something on it.

He finally entered the bedroom, chest heaving from how he had basically ran here, hands resting on his hips and you were so sure his cheeks were splotched with red from the work out.

"Hey, angel?", he called you once again, his voice coming out in a breathy manner.

You hummed and finally looked at him. His toned arms glistening with sweat, the tank top stretched tight across his form and his body glowing with sweat, curls falling into breathtaking waves around his head and a cute dent in between his brows.

It's annoying how gorgeous he is.

"Are you okay?"

You furrowed your brows, "Why do you keep asking that, Joaquin?"

He winced. His mouth tugged into a frown and brown eyes blown wide. You almost gave up.

"Did--did I do somethin'?", he asked in worry, making his way over to the bed and sitting down in front of you, hands restlessly braced against his thighs, twitching to hold yours in his.

You feigned confusion, "What-Joaquin, if something was-"

"That!", he interrupted you loudly, looking at you incredulously.

You blinked, "That, what?"

He groaned like a child, this close to stomping his feet, his face adorably scrunched up in annoyance, "You keep calling me Joaquin!", and he pouted.

You pursed your lips, "Joaquin, come on, is that not your name?", eyes sparkling with mischief.

His eyes widened again, hands coming up to cradle your face in them and he leaned close, "Angel, stop that! That's not my name. It's Quino or Baby to you", he stressed, face melting into confusion and sadness both.

You took a good look at his saddened face, brown eyes looking at you like a kicked puppy, his plush lips twisted into a frown and voice so soft that you couldn't help but let out a sweet giggle.

He sulked even further and you finally put your hands on his face, unable to resist from consoling him any longer. He tilted his head in confusion at your reaction.

"I'm sorry, baby. It was just a prank", you confessed in between giggles.

He perked up at the nickname, eyes blinking in realisation before he groaned, "You're mean", his cheeks squished by your hands, lips molded into a pout because of it.

You scrunched your nose, "Maybe. But you, are so cute", you cooed and leaned in to kiss his lips and cheeks.

"Don't do that again. I was so worried", he muttered lowly, leaning into the kisses you pressed to his cheeks, hands coming around your waist to hold you close.

You breathed a laugh against the swell of his cheek before moving to his forehead and peppering soft kisses on it. You pulled back and looked at him, his mouth still set into a pout.

Holding his chin in your hand you kissed his pout, before pulling away to kiss his cheeks again.

"My quino", you muttered against his cheek and he let out a content sigh, humming in agreement before burying his face into your neck.

Bob Reynolds

One of Bob's most favorite thing about dating you, was that you almost never called him Bobby or Bob. 'Bobby' was a sore spot for him, because his father had tainted it by his demeaning and abusive behavior and 'Bob' was, well, boring, because everyone called him that. You though? You'd rather call him 'Rob', 'Babe(s)' or his personal favorites: 'Honey(bee)' or 'Bear'.

Imagine the confusion and heartbreak he felt, when you had accidentally called him Bob during a late night meeting today.

The entire team had gathered in the conference room of the Watchtower for a group meeting, regarding the next mission that all of you were going to take part in. You had a habit of taking notes, Bob knew this well and he often carried your diary with him, your neat and organised notes helping him massively.

"Bob, could you pass me my diary?", you offhandedly requested him, your attention shifting to the other side as Ava asked you something.

Bob paused, an uncomfortable look crossing over his face before he schooled it and handed you your diary. You whispered a small thank you before jotting down all the important information, your head buried into the diary meanwhile Bob looked at you in longing, his thumb picking at the skin around his pointer finger in nervousness.

Had he done something wrong? Why did you call him Bob? Did he upset you in some way? His brain was working overtime to convince him that he had upset you. That he had done something wrong like he always does. It was agonising to sit through the meeting, his thoughts were spiraling and chest aching, lips turning red from how much he was gnawing on them with his teeth.

Finally the meeting ended an hour later, Bob at his wit's end and the moment it was done, he speed walked to his room, to avoid talking to anyone. He shut the door and sat on the bed in silence, the noise in his head making it physically impossible for him to stand. He wasn't sure what you would do if you came looking for him. Would you get mad? Would he say something that he'll regret later? What if you don't come looking for him, at all? He swallowed his tears with great difficulty and chose to distract the intrusive thoughts by reading a light hearted book.

You on the other hand, were confused. He was sitting right next to you, where did he disappear suddenly?

"Guys, where's Bob?", you asked everyone in confusion. They looked around the room helplessly and seemed to have realised at the same time as you.

"He- he was right here...", Yelena murmured lowly.

"I think I saw him go out...Don't know where", Alexei replied casually, your eyebrows scrunching further. You took their leave and immediately left the room, checking in his favourite reading nook first- he wasn't there. Then you checked in the kitchen, he liked to have tea before sleeping, so you thought he must be preparing that but, no luck. You checked in your room, and he wasn't there either. There was only place left to check, his own room.

You let out a sigh of relief as you opened the door to his room. There was, sitting on the bed with a book in his hands, black sweatpants covered legs outstretched, his maroon sweater making him look extra soft, hands half covered with the oversized sleeves and his curls were shorter now, they fell on his forehead in soft waves, making him look like an angel. The golden hue of the lamp from the sidetable made his profile glow, gentle hands thumbing the pages carefully.

"Honey, I've been looking for you", you announced in a quiet voice, shutting the door behind you just as carefully, not wanting to scare him. He still flinched, glossy blue eyes looking up at you in surprise, as if he couldn't believe you're here. You frowned and sat next to him, your legs folded snugly and body facing his.

"What's wrong? You didn't tell me you were leaving", you asked him softly, a hand coming up to brush his hair back. He licked his lips, eyes observing your face closely. his eyes shining in the low light.

"You're not upset with me?", he asked tentatively, as if he was anticipating a fight.

You frowned harder, "Why would I be upset, babe?"

His eyes widened slightly, swallowing thickly. You watched a light pink blush dust his cheeks and ears.

"I- well. You...you called me Bob today, in the meeting", he managed to blurt out, his deep voice coming out scratchy because of how long he had sat in silence.

"I-I don't understand...", you trailed in deep thought. He thought you were upset because you called him Bob?

He rubbed his eyes with a hand, trying to distract himself from the embarrassment, "You don't call me Bob. You call me Babe. Or-or Honey. I just...I thought you were upset because you didn't say any of those names. So yeah...That's...that's it."

He was red in the face as he finished talking, his fingers fiddling with the book and eyes avoiding yours at any cost. You felt your heart melt. He was so observant with everything you did, it was a blessing yet curse. Curse, because his beautiful mind ended up reaching to conclusions that weren't true in any capacity.

You smiled at him softly, a hand gingerly taking his book and placing it face down on the bed before climbing on his lap, your legs going around his waist and arms circling his neck. He froze before hesitantly wrapping his arms around your back, securing you in his arms and stared at your collarbones instead, a somber look on his face that somehow, made him look softer.

"Honey, I'm so sorry", you cooed earnestly, a hand massaging the curls by the nape of his neck.

"Everyone kept calling you Bob, so I just happened to unknowingly pick it up, and called you that in a flow. I swear, I am not upset with you. I was just distracted. I'm really sorry, babe", you mumbled sincerely, pressing a tender kiss to his pointed nose.

He then looked up at you, his ocean blue eyes staring at you in wonder, face awash with relief and fondness. He buried his face into your neck and brought you closer, nose pressed into the skin and lips brushing against it as he spoke in a meek voice, "No, don't apologise. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that...I'm sorry, (Nickname)", arms wound tightly around your back, curls tickling you lightly.

You smiled lovingly and leaned your head against his, hands smoothing across his broad back, and rocked your bodies side to side.

"It's okay, baby. I got you", you breathed out and kissed his temple, him returning it with a kiss to your neck.

Bucky Barnes

Bucky's first name itself was a nickname, yes. But the nicknames that you gave him were so special to him, that he'd feel like he was missing something if you didn't call him by any one of those.

They had a wide range: you'd call him 'Bucko' if you were feeling clingy, or 'James' if you were feeling particularly romantic and you'd call him 'Babe' or 'Baby' in almost every sentence. You'd call him 'Honey' if he was having a bad day, keeping the tone as sweet as honey to soothe him and he'd melt into a puddle in your arms. There were other silly names that you'd call him to tease him: old man, peepaw and sometimes, baby girl (that one confused him, because he's not a girl??? you told him he wouldn't understand. He sulked, Sam and Joaquin made fun of him.)

He hated how you'd call him 'Barnes' when you were angry. You two rarely argued, but when you did, it would be hurtful because neither of you liked to yell at the other. So it was usually sharp defenses thrown towards each other, or silent treatment.

Bucky hated both, but he hated when you'd call him 'Barnes' in that rough, irritated and solemn voice, even more. He felt like you were his colleague instead of his soulmate, then. He'd feel his chest ache, every single time.

So imagine his shock, when you called him that right now, as he was in the bedroom, picking out clothes for today's Senate meeting while you were in the kitchen.

"Barnes!"

He straightened up, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as well. He felt like a soldier in the barracks again, the way he was standing in attention at your call. He took the time to think about what did he do today, did he do something to piss you off? Did he forget something? He felt a brush against his legs, and he looked down to look at the tiniest, white furred member of the Barnes household.

"D’you know why they’re mad, Alpine?", he murmured to the cat, who stared at him with her sharp blue eyes and meowed, her eyes slowly blinking as if she was saying ‘Yes, dad.’

Bucky sighed and trudged back to the kitchen, his body sulked as he wondered what he did to make you call him by his last name.

There you were, standing by the sink, your arms folded across your chest and eyes instantly looking up as you heard his footsteps. Alpine brushed past him and stood by you elegantly, as if she was chiding him as well.

Bucky stood there nervously, a hand brushing over his stomach, as if calming down his nerves.

“Yes, sweetheart?”, he offered in a croaky voice, extending an olive branch beforehand.

You sighed and Bucky flinched.

You paused. Eyes observing him closely. How did you miss his tensed expression?

Furrowing your brows you walked over to him, “Hey, are you okay?”, your voice soft and careful.

Bucky swallowed before clearing his throat, hand raised to push his hair back.

“You- did I do somethin’ to upset you? I’m sorry if I did, I don’t remember-”, his voice cut off, him inhaling deeply from his nose.

“Whatever it is, I’m sorry. I don’t remember what I did, doll. I’m sorry-”

Your eyes widened. What was he saying? Why was he so anxious?

“Whoa, hey. What’re you saying, Buck? I’m not- you didn’t upset me. What’s happening?”, you replied, your hands coming up to massage his shoulders.

Bucky looked up at you in surprise, “What- but you…”, he gaped at you like a fish.

“But what, babe? You can tell me anything”, you murmured in reassurance.

And suddenly, Bucky felt stupid for assuming the worst. His ears warmed up in embarrassment.

“I-ugh. I thought you were mad at me because you…you called me Barnes”, he winced.

You frowned, “What—”

Bucky sighed, “You call me Barnes when you’re mad at me or when we’re fighting so I thought…”, he shrugged. Your face shifted in understanding and you let out a giggle, hands bracing against his shoulders. He grumbled, squeezing your waist.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. I was just-I was annoyed because you put your damn arm in the dishwasher again!”, you let out between giggles, watching as his face slacked in relief and realisation.

“Oh-”, he gave you a sheepish smile and ducked his head shyly. You laughed and squished his cheeks.

“Please find an alternative for the arm, honey. I need that dishwasher, hm?”, you cooed and leaned in to press a kiss to his heated up cheeks. Alpine brushed against your legs, letting out a ‘mrow’ that you took as her agreeing with you.

“See! Even your daughter agrees”, you teased him and bent down to give Alpine a nice scratch. She purred.

Bucky glared at her and murmured, “Traitor”, to which she narrowed her eyes and went back to leaning into your pets again. Bucky looked at his two girls and smiled, happy that he was proven wrong.

Sam Wilson

If there’s one thing that Sam disliked the most, it’s his full name: Samuel. Ever since he was bullied for that in school, he had decided that he’d shorten it, and make ‘Sam’ as his official name instead of Samuel.

He was Sam to all his friends and colleagues, Wilson to his fellow armymen and agents, but he was Sammy to you. Now, you did have different nicknames for him, but something about the way ‘Sammy’ rolled off your tongue, made him feel all giddy and special inside. You’d say it with so much love and affection, a bright smile on your face as you called him, that he’d stop responding to your calls if you tried calling him ‘Sam’.

It began slowly, but with time, you’d realised that he did that on purpose, so that he could hear you call him Sammy instead. It was cute, the way he’d pout and sulk until you called him Sammy. It was all in jest, your relationship was like that. All teasing and giggles and full of inside jokes.

But sometimes, it just slipped from your mind.

And that some time happened to be today, as he came back from a mission, tired and exhausted. He showered, changed into his night clothes and just crashed on the bed face first, you following closely as you shut off all the lights in the house before stepping into the bedroom.

He let out a loud groan into the pillow and you smile in sympathy, sitting down next to him and smoothing a hand across his broad back.

“Long day?”, you asked quietly, the sound of the AC and a distant sound of vehicles driving past, being the only noises to be heard.

Sam inhaled deeply, his back expanding beneath your hands and he begun, “Like you wouldn’t believe. Lost our target because the intel forgot to give us the information on time. Had to run up a damn hill in a civilian area, couldn’t use the wings because we couldn’t blow our cover. That asshole made us run up and down thrice. My damn knees were dead by the second time”, his rough voice was muffled by his arms, head buried in them.

“Aw. I’m sorry, babe. C’mere”, you cooed and beckoned him close, leaning back against the headboard while he lifted his heavy body up, burying his head into your chest, strong arms wrapping around your back.

He nuzzled into your chest and sighed in contentment, “Can you read to me?”

“Of course”, you replied while picking up the book left on your side table, Pride and Prejudice, and begun reading it.

You had made Sam watch the 2005 movie and he was hooked. He thought he was hiding it well, but by the end of the movie, he was wiping his tears discreetly.

Halfway through your narration, you felt him doze off. His breathing was slower and light snores leaving his mouth.

You slowly closed your book, putting it aside and rubbing a hand across his arm.

“Sam? Let’s go to sleep, come on”, you gently coaxed him out of his slumber.

He breathed in deeply before humming, slowly lifting his head away from your chest before he abruptly paused, eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s up?”, you asked him as he laid back down on your chest, his warm embrace and woodsy scent engulfing you.

“What’d you say?”, he mumbled sleepily.

You frowned, “What’d I say..?”

“Go back, rewind a few seconds”, he jested and poked your tummy, tickling you lightly.

You squealed, “Sam! Stop—no!”, twisting around to escape his strong hold.

“Ah, Ah! You did it again!”, Sam was fully awake now, propping himself up on an arm while his free hand kept tickling you.

“Oh g-god! No! Sam, stop it! P-please! What did I do!?”, you stuttered out in between laughs.

“Babe. That’s Sammy or Babe or Baby, for you. Not Sam”, he chided you and stopped tickling, a serious look on his face.

You stopped laughing, clutching your stomach as it cramped. Once you had recovered, your face shifted in understanding, and you let out a tiny gasp.

“Oh! Ohhh…”, you smiled brightly, pinching his chin in your fingers lovingly. He jutted out his bottom lip.

“Now, gimme a proper welcome”, he grumbled and held your wrist in his big hands.

“I’m sorry, Sammy. I missed you”, you said softly and cradled his face in your palms instead.

He smiled bashfully then, gaped teeth on display and everything. You joined him, pulling him closer and kissing him lovingly.

“Say it again”, he murmured against your lips.

You giggled, pinching his cheeks, “You are so cute, Sammy.”

He hummed and buried his face in your neck again, hugging you tightly.

“Now, we can sleep”, he mumbled into your neck, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

-

AN: this was a silly idea that was loitering around in my drafts for so long!!! Hope you all enjoyed this <3 might make a part 2 with other characters!

[wolfiihoney]

Nanami is the type of husband who… ᧔࿔᧓

︶︶⊹ ୨ I love writing about nanami ୧ ⊹︶︶

Part 2 of my “the type of husband who” series.

Unedited, srry loves <3

Nanami is the type of husband who refuses to text you and will call you just because you texted a simple "hi."

Nanami is the type of husband who makes sure to learn how to perfect your favorite coffee or tea, so when you wake up in the morning it’s already there waiting for you.

Namami is the type of husband who can communicate his feelings VERY well and will help you with yours.

Namami is the type of husband who always yearned for marriage so when he got it, it became somewhat of a badge of honor. (Gojo also got him a “The Best Husband Ever” shirt for a wedding gift because he knew Kento wanted to be a husband and Nanami wears it as a bedtime shirt😭).

Nanami is the type of husband who doesn’t show public affection, but he will hold your hand with the occasional little back rub.

Nanami is the type of husband who wants babies and a lot of them. He always knew deep down that he wanted little ones running around but pushed the thought away because of his job (that’s until he met you).

Nanami is the type of husband who loves nicknames and rarely calls you by your real name. He prefers "darling" and "love".

Nanami is the type of husband who likes to wake up early but hates waking you up early because he knows how much you love to sleep, so he’ll just lay in bed watching you sleep, rubbing your hair. (He’s a super, loving man).

Nanami is the type of husband who works way too hard and needs a vacation every so often. he always lets you pick the destination though. (he took you to Malaysia for the honeymoon of course).

Nanami is the type of husband who LOVES to cuddle and will randomly grab a book and your hand to go out and cuddle in the big hammock in your backyard (just imagine that seriously).

Nanami is the type of husband who loves giving you what you want and struggles to say no. Do you want those nasty chips that have too much red food dye? Go grab a bag baby. Want to spend all night watching princess movies and eating candy? He’ll go fetch the blankets.

Nanami is the type of husband who adores the colder seasons and will randomly come home with 4 bags of fall decor (he’s so wholesome).

Nanami is the type of husband who is oblivious to how adorable he is. he does the cutest things throughout the whole day and when you bring it to his attention he’s just like “Oh”.

Nanami is the type of husband who you will hear in the next room bragging about how “smart and amazing ” you are, You'll randomly hear him say “My wife made the most lovely bread today” to one of his co workers.

Nanami is the type of husband who gets shy when his students ask to see a picture of you because they can’t believe he actually got married. (he shows them a thousand pictures of you lol).

Nanami is the type of husband who loves back scratches. He doesn’t like to expect anything from you but he will expect back scratches.

Nanami is the type of husband who holds your legs up so he can vacuum under where your legs are (he’s way too strong).

Nanami is the type of husband who starts a little book club with just the two of you and he looks forward to it every other week.

Nanami is the type of husband who will secretly feel betrayed when you take a nice bath without him because that’s something he likes to do with you.

Nanami is the type of husband who loves to take care of you but also loves when you take care of him. (He likes being babied and you are the only person who will ever know that information)

Reblogs are definitely appreciated ♡♡♡

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 065 - Lovesick! Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Revenge◛⑅·˚ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 1 || Part 2 ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

[ Delulu Jinwoo? How about Delulu E-rank faced Jinwoo? Complete loser awkward Sung Jinwoo. Murder, Bullying, Violence. This is a work of fiction do not imitate. ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ A Knight Soaked In Blood ] ¡! ❞

Jinwoo since that day where he had a mental breakdown that spring morning— Had become suspiciously more clingy around you. He never left your side in school, its to the point you're convinced if he could he's follow you to the school washroom.

Thankfully he seems sane enough to control himself when you need your own private time? Otherwise? He's now your tail.

Like, your actually tail.

But you can't really say no to him, could you?

With those adorable bright grey eyes twinkling like a meek puppy whenever you look over at his direction, and the fluffy ebony locks bouncing about when he gets a bit excited around you— How can you resist him?

Jinwoo just seemed like he needed more of your attention, and nothing hurts with spoiling him with that. After all, you get to see more of his reactions.

How he would blush to the tip of his ears, his hand rubbing the back of his nape whenever he becomes a bit too bashful, and his voice that cracks a little when talking to you due to how excited he is just interacting with you.

꒰ . . . . ꒱

"Strawberry milk... Banana milk... and some cream bread... Yeah this should be good" Jinwoo mumbles as he holds the items in his arms.

He wanted to share the food with you. It's a habit he developed. He just wanted to stuff you full of yummy treats ever since he regressed.

Nothing matters more than your happiness in his eyes.

"She's such a weirdo isn't she? Always hanging out with Jinwoo even though he's unimpressive." He hears a voice from the other side of the vending machine.

"I guess her type are losers? Pfft... No wonder she barely has any other friends."

"Birds of a feather flock together, no?"

"Anyway, how about we join the other girls later for karaoke?"

"Sure!"

"....Woo..."

"Jinwoo?"

Jinwoo perks up as he finished recalling the memory from just a few minutes earlier. He had it on loop in his head the whole time as you busily munched on the bread he had come back with.

"Yeah? Sorry." He rubs his eyes, taking a deep breath before fondly glancing over your direction. "I'm a little distracted today"

"You're normally not like this" You tilt your head, curious as to why Jinwoo is more out of it than usual.

He reached a finger out, gently removing bread crumbs from the corner of your mouth with a touch that isn't hiding his affection at all, "I just stayed up late last night,"

"Argh, what a hypocrite" You playfully scold him, huffing and puffing as if you're a mother that is upset at her son's misdeeds "You always scold me when I stay up late but here you are playing games all night!"

Well, he isn't about to deny the fact that he is playing games. It's just not games people in this time and age would be playing. No, not at all, who else would be dealing with gates as a hobby?

He often messed around with the monsters as if he were a bored toddler tossing and ripping his playthings limb by limb just to watch. Or maybe he'd purposely watch them struggle all for his own amusement.

Nothing in this age really entertains him minus the cute and adorable expressions you make to him. Whether you're upset, happy, or sad— The faces you make never ceases to make him feel more attached to you than he already is.

Jinwoo couldn't really indulge in you before he regressed, responsibilities were thrust into him out of nowhere. The role of a patriarch he had to fill in when his father disappeared— The burden of carrying his family on his two weary shoulders will always be heavy but a responsibility he would never refuse in any lifetime.

He had neglected you.

The person who filled his youth in blissful joy and innocence.

He spent his summers playing with you by the beach shoreline, running along the path of the waters kissing the golden sands and picking up any amusing trinkets you found on the way.

After school hagwons are often consumed with the both of you on date nights messing around in a samgyupsal restaurant or just hanging out right outside a convenience store, but most often you two are often alone in an empty park for casual talks and unspoken intimacy of two souls yearning for eachother.

In this regression of his, in this second chance—

Jinwoo absolutely refuses to let you go through the brutal bullying you had gone through during this time of your youth.

"Go home early tonight, okay?" He smiles gently, his boyish smile sending your heart jolting at how endearing it was. "You need to rest early tonight so you have energy to be hyper tomorrow."

"What am I, a kid?" You pout at his gentle chiding, hopeless at how he effortlessly diverted the conversation from his hypocrisy to you being told to follow an early sleep curfew. "I'm old enough to have my own sleep schedule."

"Then don't come whining to me tomorrow that you didn't sleep well because you chose to get shut-eye at 2:00 am" He scoffed, pinching your cheek.

"Stupid mushroom head..." You swat his hand away. "Fine, fine! You owe me tteokbokki tomorrow..."

Jinwoo cocks an eyebrow up but decides to humor you, "Anything else?"

"Some shortcakes! Oh and macarons!... Some ice cream too"

"...Don't come crying to me once your belly swells"

"Sung Jinwoo!"

꒰ . . . . ꒱

Class resumed shortly after your bickering with Jinwoo. Of course, the subjects were unbearably painful to listen to. You held back dozing off during the whole afternoon.

Somehow, you had survived long enough until dismissal and of course Jinwoo escorts you back home. He quietly listens to all your rants about the nagging teachers and the unnecessarily hard projects and assignments. Not to mention finals was next month.

He listened on and on until you were both at your doorstep. Of course, you are reluctant to part with him, but with enough reassuranceㅡ You finally go inside somewhere safe and a place where he no linger has to worry about your well-being.

"Bellion." Jinwoo calls out, his voice now flat and devoid of any trace of affection he had talking to you from earlier. "Did you find the brats?"

"Yes, my liege" The undead soldier replies as his floating head hovered over his master's shoulder. "The targets are all located and in a single environment, all six individuals you have been keeping tabs on are together."

"Good" He hums. "Her nightmares will end today"

꒰ . . . . ꒱

Dizzying neon lights, booming speakers, beer and cigarettes teenagers that are illegal to use yet they do it anyway. It’s the peak of teenagehood… In their opinion anyway.

Drugs, sex, drama, only the losers are missing out on enjoying their youth.

Hence why they relished in belittling and destroying everyone else’s days just because they can and are entitled to it. The law doesn’t really apply to them, just slay a pretty penny, agressive parents that can never believe their children can ever do wrong and the typical: “They are too young for this! They have a life ahead of them! Teenagers are just being teenagers!” — Yeah, everyone gets the point.

Jinwoo was lucky enough that those assholes never bothered him in his younger days no matter how wimpy he looks. He just a oided them and never interacted with any of them.

That wasn’t the case for the person he cherishes the most.

While they relished in throwing their life away, the person Jinwoo loved more than life would have an awful breakdown all alone when she experienced one of the most traumatizing bullying ever.

The scars they gave her remained even in her adulthood where she overthinks every little thing and every little conversation that she doubted him no matter how sincere he was. She was as suicidal as she is because she believed no one would actually love her for who she is and giving her life up for the sake others will be the only salvation and worth she’ll ever find in herself.

And Sung Jinwoo absolutely refuses to go down another lifetime of him losing the love of his life.

And as the booming music continues to echo in the karaoke room, the door creaks open to reveal Jinwoo donning his black hoodie over his head to avoid the cameras.

“What the fuck?” Mincheol curses out, groaning as he had to stop kissing his 4th girlfriend for the week.

“Oppa, is that a friend?” Hana asks.

“Friend?” He laughs,

“Oh, it’s Jinyoung? Jinyeok?” Byeong-ho smiles, throwing an arm around Jinwoo’s shoulder. “Hey, buddy, the fuck are you out here for? Shit, is it about the groupings projects? I’m working on it man, so get outta here, yeah?”

“Get that fucker out, argh, ruining my fucking mood” Mincheol cursed, throwing a beer bottle on Jinwoo’s feet that shattered upon impact, “Heym you fucking nutcase! Can’t you fucking see I’m busy trying to get fucking laid? What the hell are you here for, huh?! Are you begging me to fucking kill you?!”

“Kill me?…” A scoff leaves his lips, finding the idea ridiculous. “You think a bastard junkie like you can lay a hand on me?”

His grey eyes look up daringly at Mincheol, hollow and devoid of anything.

“This fucking—“

“There are 7 of you here,” Jinwoo grabs Byeonghoon’s hand around him and crushed it, prompting the teenager to cry out and collapse on the floor, “2 boys that pervertedly touch her when she was in sixth grade, 3 girls that made her elementary life and absolute hellhole for her to live in, and the remaining 2 girls that poured grape juice all over the brand new uniform she got in the weekend.”

“What the hell is he even talking about?” Hana curses, rolling her eyes as she fixed her hair on the reflection of her phone. “Oppa, can you deal with him?”

“You’ll regret ever being alive” Mincheol spat, aiming at Jinwoo neck but it seemed…

That suddenly he is looking at the ceiling.

“Sure,” Jinwoo said, his heel pressing down on Mincheol’s chest as the teenager cried and struggled. “See if you can make a dent on me, really. I mean it sincerely.”

“Make me suffer something that is more painful than seeing your beloved die over and over all while you’re helpless and watching her demise repeatedly.”

If it weren’t for Jinwoo’s goddamn strength that didn’t go away even with his regression— He wouldn’t hold back. Unfortunately he can’t kill anyone in here because where would the fun be?

Isn’t living itself more painful than death?

Why should he be merciful and give them eternal sleep when they wound the heart of someone absolutely precious?

Mercy is not something these people deserve.

Blood splatters paint the walls, whether it’d be the boys or the girls. Jinwoo didn’t care. He even brought scissors.

Not to stab them with it of course. He grabbed Hana, Yumi, and Eun-yeong’s hairs and snipped them off in uneven chunks. Beating up their faces that laughed and snickered at her is not enough, he has to damage their appearances for the full effect of despair.

He stands in the middle of bloodied and mangled teenagers, blood splatters everywhere but on him. Mincheol could only helplessly watch as he witnessed a man akin to the devil himself.

Because how can you wrap your head around such blatant disregard for life? How could and emotionless those empty bloodthirsty orbs of his?

He could only stare wide eyed, with what little he can see at least as both of his eyes are swollen while he creates a pool of rancid urine on the floor mixing with the coppery smell of blood.

“Should be enough” Jinwoo hums to himself as he glances up at the bloody faces on the floor and the weeping girls mourning their carefully pampered hair strands scattered on the floor. “Of course, I do so very hope that each and every one of you have a good night’s rest.”

꒰ . . . . ꒱

They had attempted to report Jinwoo to the school, when it didn't work they turned to the police who looked at the parents and kids as if they all grew a third heard.

Jinwoo, who is scrawny and meek, with no record on his papers nor did any classmate would testify against him as an aggressive person. Any attempts of bribing anyone to lie were all met with silence.

After all, can you convict someone who has nothing but goodwill from the people around him?

He came from an ordinary family, his father is a firefighter— Meanwhile the people blaming him are all elites.

So who would believe them?

It was a clear case of the rich stomping on the less fortunate for their own amusement regardless of the truth.

"Madame, I'm sorry, but for the last time Jinwoo is a very good child. He has decent grades and has never gotten into trouble, your son must have been mistaken" The principal pinches the bridge of his nose as Mincheol's mother went off of him, "Your kid must have mistaken him for someone else, students built as scrawny as Jinwoo isn't uncommon amongst their age group."

"This is absurd!" She continues to scream regardless while Mincheol came out of the office for a breather.

He wanted to knock something over— Until he hears a familiar voice beside him.

"I told you, didn't I?" Jinwoo smiles coolly, as if he had been enjoying him and his friends making a fool out of themselves trying to get him to face his crimes, "No one will believe you no matter how much you try"

"You fucking" Mincheol raises his fist, only to be met with the same hollow, empty and dead grey eyes that had been haunting his dreams as of late.

"You haven't learned your lesson yet?" He asks, opting the teenager to falter back onto his back when Jinwoo reached out to him.

He shut his eyes, completely ready to receive another punch but the shorter boy only dusted off his collar while saying, "Kids like you are rotten to the core, you never really change until you experience something near death."

Mincheol was suddenly yanked down, his gaze now forced to meet Jinwoo's lilac eyes that glows eerily, "It's someone's special day today, so I'll give one of her presents through you and your little army of shitheads."

"Jinwoo?"

Your voice cuts through the air, immediately opting Jinwoo to shove Mincheol back onto the wall as his wicked gaze turned gentle and loving the moment he looked at your direction. It was as if he wasn't the same person who had bloodied him and his friends weeks ago and that he would never have such a bloodthirsty gaze like he did earlier.

Duality is dangerous, and Sung Jinwoo was an expert in being two-faced.

"Is he messing with you again, I swear to god—" You were about to approach Mincheol until Jinwoo gently wraps his arm around your waist and drags you away with little strength. "Hey, hey! Let me go! I need to punch that bastard!"

"Not worth it, let's just go" Jinwoo shakes his head as he grabs your bag to sling over his shoulder, "Leave it alone"

"But that bastard and his friends have been messing you for two weeks now!" You cry out, "How dare that bastard accuse you of beating them? They make so many enemies they mistake anyone! And they decided to frame you on top of that!"

"It's your birthday today, you'll get wrinkles this young if you keep going with that temper of yours" He shakes his head, sneaking in a kiss on top of your head as he managed to successfully bring you out to to the park near the school.

"Then I want them dead for my birthday present!" He merely cocks an eyebrow at your bold declaration, "Those bastards are making our lives hard and for what? Just because they got born with diamond spoons shoved up their fucking asses? They should die painfully and slowly!"

"Sure."

Jinwoo then gets down on his knee as he brought up a small cake he packed in his bag earlier in the morning, he fished out a small lighter in his pocket then lit up the candle he stuck on top of it.

"Blow your candle then, birthday girl," He smiles sweetly, "Today is your special day, and I'm sure your wishes will come true."

"What am I, a kid?" You grumble, pouting at his blatant coddling but didn't reject his offer.

Leaning down, you blow on the candle, reciting your wish in your head.

The moment you were done, Jinwoo leans his forehead against yours.

"I hope you don't mind that from now on you'll be sharing all your birthdays with me" He whispers lovingly, "No matter what happens, I'll be by your side."

"And I will do anything you want. You just have to stay by my side safe and sound."

꒰ . . . . ꒱

The news station all reported the case of 7 close-knit friends who were all assaulted whilst on their nightly karaoke outings.

An innocent bonding by teenagers turned bloody as an unknown assailant arrived in their booth and attacked them unprovoked.

Four of the five teenagers sustained injuries that their bones had shattered, opting their limbs to be surgically removed. The girls all had their hair chopped off in large chunks in addition to the cuts on their now mutilated faces.

We had just received news that 4 of the group have passed away in their sleep after going through intense seizures.

Remaining survivors are brought into mental hospitals as they exhibit extremely manic behaviours that are extremely harmful to both themselves and to others. Hence, the doctors have decided to keep them on thorough watch until they are deemed safe for society and to themselves.

Currently, the authorities have no suspect as the cctv cameras were all malfunctioning at the time of the incident.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Guys it's actually my birthday today!!! April 9th<33!!! So i switched up this very messy fic to be my birthday present to me heheh:DD!!! Have you guys missed lovesick woowoo? I did! Hence why this is a birthday special www!!! Hope you all loved it uueee(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧ ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[mywritersmind]

UNCONVENTIONAL - LN4

summary : In which trying to make it home for thanksgiving fails and a cute british driver feels bad.

listen up : no warnings just cuteness! happy thanksgiving to all my americans <33 im thankful for YOU🫵 lando norris x american!driver!reader

word count : 1968

⋆༺

I groan out loud, dropping my phone onto the jet’s seat. “We’re stuck.” Lando sits up from his position across two seats, and frowns.

“Shit.” I look outside of the planes window, seeing the snow and fighting back tears. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not even december! Snow should not be here!” I wipe my eyes. I know Lando feels bad and I'm not making the situation worse by crying. But I’m having a hard time today because I'm supposed to be with my family.

Lando offered me and some other drivers a ride to Qatar for the next grand prix. Thanksgiving happened to fall the day before media day so I thought I could stop by my parents house and leave that night.

I never particularly loved Thanksgiving, but now that i’m traveling so much because of work, I've learned how much I truly can miss my loved ones.

Lando bites his lip as I sit back down and pull the blanket over me. The pilot informed us that we won’t be getting in the air for a few hours which means we have to go straight to the track instead of seeing my family.

I take a breath, “It’s okay. I appreciate you trying.” I hate crying in front of the guys, even if he is my friend. I hate it because it just plays into the whole emotional woman thing, and even though Lando is one of my best friends, right now I can’t help it.

Lando sits across from me, nudging his foot against mine, “How about we have thanksgiving here?” My head shoots in his direction as he puts on a small smile, “I don’t know a lot about it and I know I'm not your family… but I can try to be a substitute.”

I swallow, wiping my eyes again before I cross my my arms, “How would we even do that?”

I did not expect Lando to take my words as a competition. Still, thirty minutes later I'm sat with a full course meal spread out on the tiny table in between seats. There’s no huge turkey or array of pies, instead we have chicken wraps and fries. We have chips, popcorn, pesto pasta, orange chicken, a bagel, salad, and bread. A bottle of champagne sits next to me as Lando sits down.

His smile is wide as he looks down at the spread, “Good enough?”

“How did you…” I shake my head, laughing, “Yeah it’s good enough! Lando, this is really sweet.”

“It’s my first thanksgiving, I had to make it delicious, even if it is all airport food.” He shrugs and starts pulling things onto his plate. My legs are crossed on the comfortable seat and as I watch him pick his meal, I smile.

I bite into the chicken wrap that’s actually delicious. Lando taps on his phone before music starts playing over the speakers.

I smile at him as he chews, “So… what do Americans usually do on thanksgiving?”

I shrug and sip some champagne, “Eat, gossip, be thankful?”

“Okay! Let’s gossip then. Sounds easy enough.” Hes ridiculously committed to the bit and I adore him for it, “Did you know Franco’s signed with RB?” I start coughing, practically choking on my food.

“What!?” I scream.

Lando’s laughing now, “No I don’t actually know, I just couldn’t think of anything else.” I kick him under the table as he gasps.

“That’s evil! I got so excited.” I’m laughing with him now, our food picked apart and a mess in front of us. “What are you thankful for?”

He thinks for a moment, a curl falling into his face that makes my stomach flip a little. “Mmm… My family and friends.”

“That’s too generic. It’s thanksgiving- get deep, Norris.” He gives me a slight smirk before nodding.

“I’m thankful that the championship talk is over. I’m thankful for Chicken wraps.” He holds his up, proudly as I roll my eyes. “And I'm thankful for you.”

I’m a tad bit shocked, “For me?” I expect him to say something stupid or flirty, but he’s dead serious.

“You’re a really good person. I like being around you and for that, I'm grateful.” He raises his glass and I hit it with mine, “Now go on, brag about me.”

I roll my eyes, back to smiling humorously, “I’m thankful that I'm not alone right now.” His eyes don’t stray away from mine, “And I’m thankful for snow. Even if it’s pissing me off, it’s very pretty.”

We both look out the window in sync, the snow still falling. The runway is fully white, matching the trees and wing of the plane.

When I look back at Lando, he’s already looking at me. His face is relaxed, his freckles prominent and curls perfect. “Do you want to go?” I say suddenly as his expression turns confused.

“We can’t yet, we still have like two hours.”

A smile tugs at my lips, “I mean outside.”

He looks hesitant, “It’s freezing.”

I stand and grab my suitcase, unzipping it and pulling out my puffer jacket at record speed, “Did I mention every thanksgiving, something really random but really fun happens?” It’s true, for some reason this holiday brings out funny stories. “You’re not scared of some snow, are you Norris?” I step closer, narrowing my eyes.

He stands, grabbing his own jacket, “I’m just saying, don’t come complaining when you’re freezing and wet.”

“Me!?” I scoff, zipping up my jacket, “You’re the one who needs four layers for a sunny day.”

⋆༺

LANDO

I’m freezing my ass off but I would rather become a human icicle than tear my eyes away from her smile. She’s giggling and running into the snow, twirling around as snowflakes fall into her hair.

“Don’t slip, Y/n!” I yell after her as she turns around, the biggest smile on her face.

Her hand goes to wipe the hair that’s being blown in her face, snow falling around her, “Come catch me, Norris.”

I roll my eyes and hurry over to her as she laughs and dances around. I can’t help but laugh with her, it’s fucking contagious.

She sticks her tongue out, leaning her head back to catch snowflakes. Y/n is so perfectly caught in the haze of the snow and light peaking through the clouds that she looks like an angel.

She pokes my cheek and holds onto my jacket as if she’s about to fall. “Your nose is red.”

“You should get a job in detective work if the whole driving thing doesn’t work out…” She scoffs loudly and punches me in the arm.

Unfortunately, she’s stronger than she looks and because the ground is icy, we’re both falling seconds later.

She lands on top of me, laughing so hard that she’s crying, “Fuck! Are you okay!?”

“Like you care!” I sit up, holding her tightly still.

She laughs and plops down next to me, laying her head back and arms out. “Oh no-”

“Angel time, Norris!” She screams at me.

“I’m going to become snow!”

She doesn’t respond, just stretches her arms and legs out and waves them back and forth to make the snow part below her.

Something about her is my weakness and I honestly can’t complain when she looks so happy. I join her, my hair getting soaked and her laughs making me smile.

I make my angel in peace as snow floats down from the sky, landing on my face. I hear the rustle of her jacket as she turns her head to me, “Thank you.”

I smile softly, examining her face and the snowflakes that melt as soon as they touch her skin. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry that I'm not your family.”

She lets out a breath, “You’re my found family. That’s close enough.” her words make my heart beat faster, “Even if you are British and your first thanksgiving was on a grounded plane.”

“I wouldn’t wish it any other way. Although, next year we should try for a more friendsgiving approach. Maybe with the whole grid?” Her smile grows as she looks up at the sky.

“I'm very down for that.” As i’m mentally tracing her side profile in her mind, a voice and light comes very loud.

“You two!” I realize we’re in trouble instantly and stand up as fast as I can, slipping all over the place as the voice gets louder and the flashlight shines directly towards us.

Y/n is trying to get up with me but she’s laughing and slipping so it’s significantly harder. I grab her hand and we make a run for it, up the stairs and into the warm cabin. The door shuts behind us and I lean my head against the wall, sighing in relief of not being caught making snow angels.

Y/n is breathing heavily across from me, a smile permanent on her face as she looks at me. Her hair is wet and I'm sure mine is the same. I can’t feel my hands and I couldn’t care less.

“You look like a popsicle!” Y/n takes her hands and wraps them over mine, getting close enough that I can feel her breath on my skin.

I’d like to pretend that what happened next was a symptom of my cold state, but I’ve never been a good liar.

As soon as she looks up at me, her eyes big and glassy, I lean down and kiss her. Her lips are warm despite her cold hands gripping my own and as soon as she pulls back, I swear.

“Fuck. I’m sorry-” I didn’t even ask! God, I'm an asshole and now I'm completely stuck. Would I die if I ran outside and hid in the woods?

But she doesn’t look mad. She looks… pleased? Her hand slips out of my reach and moves to the side of my neck, “Don’t be.”

And then she kisses me. I think I blackout because I have no clue how long we’ve been kissing but I do know that I'm now completely defrosted and warm.

“You okay?” I whisper as Y/n pulls away.

She nods, “Thanks for kissing me.”

I laugh, “You’re very welcome. Thanks for kissing me back.”

She smiles again backs up a bit, fiddling with her rings, “So… was that just a thanksgiving thing or a way to warm up or…?”

I’m smiling big now, moving my hands under her jacket as she squirms because of the temperature, “I’ve been waiting for that to happen so if you limit me to once a year, i’ll be pretty sad.”

She nods, biting back a smile, “Good to know!” She slips away from me and pulls off her jacket, sitting in a seat and pulling her blanket around her shoulders.

I slowly walk so I’m in front of her again. She’s smiling at the floor, motioning me to come sit, “There’s one more thanksgiving tradition I do every year.”

She pulls out her ipad and scoots closer to me, I feel like i’m dreaming. “And that is…?”

She clears her throat, still avoiding eye contact.

“The Thanksgiving episode of Gossip Girl!” She starts rattling on about the backstories and starts the episode but i’m still stuck on her face and how her eyes won’t meet mine.

“Y/n…” I say it softly, bringing my hand to her chin and turning her face to look at me. She’s blushing. I don’t think I've ever seen her blush.

“Mhm?” She sounds like a mouse.

I brush her wet hair out of her face and press a soft kiss against her cheek, “I really like thanksgiving.” She just smiles and nestles into my side, my arm around her.

She lets me have some of the blanket and whispers, “I really do too.”

[godricgryffinsnore]

Felix Felicis & Far Too Many Kisses ♡ : A Harry Potter Fan Fiction.

pairing : Harry Potter x female!reader

summary : When Harry takes a dose of Felix Felicis, everything goes too right—including his relentless affection for the reader. With way too many kisses and a chaotic amount of charm, she’s left to handle a very lucky (and very annoying) boyfriend, all while trying not to fall even harder for him. Fluffy, funny, and filled with mischief.

warnings : Excessive fluff, Mild kissing (lots of it, actually), Light teasing/banter, Overwhelming amounts of Harry being too charming, Slight secondhand embarrassment, Golden Trio chaos. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3. This is a drabble, i.e, an extremely short fiction.

word count : 0.6k

main master list <3

banners : @dollywons and @roseschoices

The day began with golden sunlight and a suspicious grin.

Harry Potter had taken Felix Felicis.

And you—you had made the fatal error of meeting him in the corridor between Transfiguration and Charms, where his lips were already pursed like he was about to give you a blessing. Or a headache. Or both.

“Darling,” he said, in that suspiciously sweet tone that usually preceded chaos, “Did you know the stars aligned today just for your smile?”

You blinked. “Harry. Did you take Felix?”

He grinned wider. “Maybe a little.”

“Oh, Merlin save me.”

You turned, ready to walk away before he could stick his luck to you like a stubborn spell—but you weren’t fast enough. He caught your wrist with that maddeningly boyish charm twinkling in his eyes.

“Wait, wait, just one kiss for luck!”

“That’s not how that works.”

“It is today.”

Before you could retort, he leaned in, kissed your cheek, and then your nose, then your forehead, and finally your lips in a series of rapid-fire affections that left you sputtering.

“Harry!”

“I’m in love with the sound of you being flustered,” he murmured dramatically. “It’s almost as good as flying.”

“Honestly,” you muttered, cheeks on fire, “someone take this potion out of his system before I hex him into next week.”

── .✦

Later, in the Gryffindor Common Room…

Ron was trying not to laugh. It wasn’t working.

“Mate, you’re glowing,” he said through snorts. “He actually sparkled when he walked in, didn’t he, Hermione?”

Hermione, nose deep in Hogwarts: A History (abridged edition), huffed. “Felix Felicis does not cause bioluminescence, Ronald. That’s the charm of confidence radiating. Honestly.”

“Radiating like the bloody sun,” you grumbled, curled up in a red armchair while Harry attempted to fit next to you. You nudged him off. “Go be lucky somewhere else!”

But he only laughed, delight curling like sunlight on his tongue.

“You love me.”

“You’re exhausting.”

“You adore me.”

You pointed a finger at him. “Harry James Potter, if you kiss me one more time—”

He kissed you.

Again.

Right in front of Ron and Hermione.

It was warm and sweet, like honey dripping off late-summer bread, and he smiled so dreamily when he pulled away you almost forgot to be mad. Almost.

“Harry,” Hermione warned, “If you keep acting like this, Professor Slughorn will find out you’ve taken the potion.”

“I want him to find out,” Harry declared with a noble puff of his chest. “I’ll tell the whole castle I’m lucky and in love.”

Ron tossed a pillow at him. “Please don’t. Some of us are trying to keep our dinners down.”

── .✦

Much Later, as the sun set over the Astronomy Tower…

You finally dragged him up and out of the castle, hoping the fresh air would cool the golden madness burning in his veins. Instead, he spun you under starlight like the universe belonged to him and he was showing you your kingdom.

“Isn’t it glorious?” he whispered, staring at the sky like it owed him a favour.

“You’ve kissed me twenty-seven times today,” you said, arms folded. “Twenty-seven, Harry. I’ve counted.”

“I’m trying to break a record.”

You glared.

He leaned in with that dopey, dazzling grin. “Twenty-eight?”

You sighed. But there was no malice in it—just fondness blooming, soft and reluctant, like petals in springtime.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m insufferably in love with you.”

He kissed you.

Twenty-eighth time.

You melted, just a little.

Fine. Maybe lucky potion Harry wasn’t that bad.

But Merlin help you if he ever took another dose.

── .✦

Bonus:

The next morning, Harry trudged into the common room looking like a damp sock. The luck had run out. The confidence was gone.

You smiled sweetly.

He blinked at you. “What… did I do yesterday?”

You raised your brow. “You kissed me twenty-eight times, compared my eyes to starlight, and tried to serenade me with a broomstick as a guitar. Twice.”

He groaned into his hands. “Kill me.”

You leaned in.

“Kiss me first.”

His head snapped up, wide-eyed.

“…Really?”

You smirked. “This one doesn’t count. You’re not lucky today.”

“Oh,” he whispered, pulling you in. “I am, actually. I’ve got you.”

And for once, no potion was needed.

[luveline]

oh my god. steve harrington with a dreamy/luna lovegood like girlfriend would be so sweet! i feel like he would love how she’s always so kind and her head’s always in the clouds. he’d find her adorable, especially when she out of nowhere says something a little odd.

“What was that?” Steve asks. 

You aren’t talking to him, but he pretends you were. 

“I said, the sun doesn’t look very happy today.” 

Steve finds the sun, a white ache in his eyes behind a buffet of clouds. “I can’t tell.”

“Exactly.” 

Steve gets his arms under your armpits to drag you into his chest. You’re always content to be moved around, especially if it’s Steve doing the lifting. You slot yourself into his embrace unthinking. 

“I think you’d be much happier if you had a couch on the porch,” you say, “though maybe you’d suddenly like rock metal too. What do you think they have it for?” 

“Not sure. Afternoon people watching, maybe.” 

“Well, this is fun.” 

Eddie and Robin attempt to set up the sprinkler and water slide in the grass. Neither seems to have noticed that it’s too cold for this sort of play, both dedicated to the last day of summer. Usually you entertain either of them, partial to nonsense, but today you’ve stuck by Steve’s side. Probably because you’re cold. 

“I might get one, if you want one,” he says. 

“You know you can get a couch from the Salvation Army for ten bucks.” 

“And the bedbugs for free.” 

You laugh loudly, suddenly, before it chokes into a fizzy sort of giggle. “Most bugs are cute, but they give me the heebies.” 

“I don’t need any more strange creatures in bed with me, either way.” 

“You mean me.” You turn in his arms. He loves to feel it, your skin under his hands, the total ease you feel being smushed against him like two pieces of bread in the same pack. You jam yourself against him, your fingers working behind his neck. Cold. Rings tickling him, your fingernails scratching gently. “But I’m not a creature,” you murmur, “and I won’t be in your bed again, if that’s how you feel.” 

“Then who will help you fall asleep?” he asks. 

“I volunteer!” Eddie calls. 

“He looks like he gives a good back rub,” you say. 

Steve tips you away from him. “Idiot.” 

“Steve, doesn’t he?” you ask. “Eddie, come over here and rub our backs.” 

“Stay where you are,” Steve says to Eddie firmly. He pushes you away from him, trying his best not to laugh as you giggle and whine at being pushed. “Get lost.” 

“I’m going to take my shirt off now.” 

“For the back rub?” Steve asks, whiplashed. 

“No, doofus, for the water slide! Why would I take my shirt off for a back rub?” 

“I’ll show you why.” 

“I already know you’re good at them,” you say. 

“I’ll show you again.” 

You pause. A smile stretches over your lips. “Mm, okay.” 

[bestofmultiverse]

Between the pages || 2

Aubrey plaza x fem!reader

" I was half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they’re not much to look at, or even if they’re sort of stupid, you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. "

- J.D. Salinger, The catcher in the rye

Part 1 • Part 3 • 4 • 5

Y/N blinked, trying to get her bearings in the soft morning light streaming into her bedroom. She wasn’t on the sofa anymore, and she certainly hadn’t fallen asleep in her bed last night. But here she was, tucked neatly under her comforter, and beside her, separated by a few pillows, lay Aubrey. She was asleep, her face softened by rest, her features even more striking in the early morning calm.

A smile crept across Y/N’s face as she studied Aubrey’s peaceful expression. She was undeniably beautiful—not just beautiful for her age, but in a way that felt timeless and grounded. It made Y/N’s stomach flutter, and a slight pang of insecurity hit her; Aubrey was everything Y/N admired—confident, talented, and effortlessly alluring.

Feeling her heart race at the thought of Aubrey waking up to see her staring, Y/N slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, padding to the bathroom for a quick shower. When she returned, she busied herself in the kitchen, quietly making breakfast. The faint hum of the radio kept her company as she toasted bread and scrambled eggs, relishing the simple, cozy act.

“Good morning,” a familiar voice murmured, soft and sleepy, breaking Y/N out of her thoughts.

Y/N turned, catching sight of Aubrey leaning against the doorway, her hair still mussed from sleep. She looked comfortable, yet somehow effortlessly poised, even in Y/N’s small kitchen. Y/N blushed, realizing how close they were.

“Good morning! Do you want something to drink?” Y/N asked, smiling. “I don’t really drink coffee, but I can go grab you some from the café around the corner if you’d like.”

Aubrey’s lips curved into a warm smile. “No need, this is perfect. I’m just happy to be here.” She stepped closer, glancing at the plates Y/N was setting up.

“So… not to rush you out, but I have a mountain of work today,” Y/N said with a small, guilty grin. “You’re welcome to stay, but just a heads-up—I might be a little boring.”

Aubrey laughed, her expression softening. “That’s okay, I get it. I have some things to get to anyway.” She hesitated, then continued, “But… I’d love to see you again, if you’d like that.”

Y/N’s face lit up, her smile wide and genuine. “I’d love that too.”

From then on, their connection only grew. They read together, taking turns with books y/n recommended, and spent hours talking about everything from their childhood dreams to favorite movies. After their third date—a late-night visit to a bookstore followed by a stroll through a quiet park—Aubrey walked Y/N home. They held hands, a shared warmth between them, and when they reached Y/N’s door, Aubrey leaned in, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to her lips. It was careful, as if reading Y/N’s shyness and matching it with tenderness.

As the days turned into weeks, they grew more comfortable, falling into each other’s lives seamlessly. Aubrey was patient, taking her time to get to know Y/N. She made Y/N feel safe, and Y/N adored every minute they spent together. Soon, they were FaceTiming in between meetings, texting about little things that made them think of each other, and finding moments to be together whenever they could.

When they finally crossed that last boundary, sharing their first night together, it was both gentle and passionate. They communicated, both eager yet considerate, learning each other’s wants and needs. Aubrey’s natural confidence took over, her assertiveness balanced by her desire to make Y/N feel loved and respected. Y/N, in turn, was just as attentive, savoring every moment with Aubrey, discovering a balance between playful and deeply intimate.

Two months into their relationship, it wasn’t just the two of them who noticed how special their connection was. After a dinner date, a paparazzi photographer managed to capture a candid shot of them leaving the restaurant hand in hand. By morning, the image was everywhere, spreading faster than Y/N could have imagined.

Aubrey’s publicist called with the news, explaining that the story had already taken off. Y/N knew Aubrey was a public figure, but she hadn’t expected their private moments to become public conversation so suddenly. Their little bubble was shattered, and suddenly her face was online, next to Aubrey’s in articles and tabloid stories speculating about their relationship.

The attention was overwhelming. Y/N’s friends started teasing her about dating “the Aubrey Plaza,” while her family’s reaction was more complicated. They had always known she was queer, but the age difference gave them pause, making them wonder if Y/N was really ready for such a serious relationship.

As the media frenzy grew, it was hard for Y/N to brush off the harsh comments online—insinuations about why Aubrey would date someone younger, or assumptions about Y/N’s motives. It felt as if the world was intruding into their private life, prying apart the joy they had found together.

But Aubrey was her anchor through it all. Late one evening, after Y/N shared how overwhelmed she felt, Aubrey wrapped her arms around her and whispered, “Forget them. I know who you are, and you know who I am. The rest… it doesn’t matter.”

They held each other close that night, letting the world outside fade, finding comfort in each other’s presence. And as they lay there, Y/N knew that, no matter the scrutiny, what she shared with Aubrey was real, something worth fighting for—even if they’d have to face the world together, one step at a time.

As days went on, the intensity of the media attention didn’t exactly die down, but Y/N and Aubrey learned to adjust. Aubrey handled it with practiced ease, guiding Y/N with little tips on how to ignore the comments and dodge prying eyes. Despite the pressure, they found solace in each other, learning to carve out quiet moments that felt like their own little world.

One evening, they decided to stay in for a movie night at Y/N’s apartment. Y/N had loaded up a few of Aubrey’s favorite old films, trying her best to make it feel special—a few candles, some popcorn, and a cozy blanket they could share.

“You know,” Aubrey said, settling down next to Y/N, “I don’t think I’ve had a better night in ages.” She glanced around, smiling at the thoughtful touches Y/N had put together. “You really went all out.”

Y/N blushed, nudging her playfully. “It’s just popcorn and candles. Hardly a red carpet.”

Aubrey smirked, tilting her head. “It’s the thought, and you, that make it perfect.” She reached for Y/N’s hand, entwining their fingers, and squeezed gently.

As the movie started, they fell into a comfortable silence, Y/N nestled into Aubrey’s side. The world outside felt far away, reduced to nothing more than the faint city hum in the distance. Halfway through the film, Aubrey leaned over and softly kissed Y/N’s forehead, her lips lingering just a little longer than usual. Y/N looked up, her heart skipping as she met Aubrey’s gentle gaze.

“Thank you for sticking with me through all of this,” Aubrey murmured, tucking a loose strand of Y/N’s hair behind her ear.

Y/N’s hand found its way to Aubrey’s cheek, tracing the soft lines of her face. “I’m not going anywhere. I knew this might be hard, but… you’re worth it.” She offered a small, reassuring smile. “And I’m learning. I mean, I’ve got the best teacher.”

Aubrey chuckled, pulling Y/N closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere, just so you know.”

They spent the rest of the night laughing, sharing stories, and talking about the little things they hadn’t yet told each other. Y/N felt a kind of warmth she hadn’t felt before—a love that was both grounding and freeing, as if Aubrey had opened up parts of herself she didn’t know existed.

A few weeks later, they decided to spend a weekend out of the city, heading to a secluded cabin by the lake. Aubrey had rented it on a whim, sensing that they both needed a little time to breathe away from the constant hum of the city.

On their first morning there, Y/N woke up to the smell of coffee and soft music playing. She wandered out to find Aubrey on the deck, wrapped in a flannel blanket with two mugs steaming in her hands. The sun was just rising, casting a soft pink glow over the lake.

Aubrey turned when she heard Y/N approach, her eyes lighting up. “Morning, sleepyhead. Thought you’d like to join me for the sunrise.” She handed Y/N a mug of tea, remembering she didn’t drink coffee.

They sat in comfortable silence, watching the sun climb slowly above the horizon, casting a shimmering path across the water. It was quiet, almost surreal, and Y/N felt the weight of everything slip away, replaced with the calm of being completely at peace in the moment.

After a while, Aubrey shifted, turning toward Y/N. “You know,” she said softly, “this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

Y/N looked at her, her heart swelling at the sincerity in Aubrey’s eyes. “I feel the same way,” she whispered. Then, unable to resist, she leaned in, capturing Aubrey’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

As they pulled away, Aubrey grinned, her eyes shining with something close to wonder. “I don’t care about the noise, Y/N. As long as I have you, I’m exactly where I need to be.”

Y/n beamed at her

"So, what are we reading today?" Aubrey asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence

"I thought maybe 'the catcher in the rye, its a classic"

Aubrey nodded before pulling the younger woman into another soft kiss.

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other and the quiet beauty of the morning, with their book and hot drinks, feeling as if, just for that moment, they were the only two people in the world.

_____

Just a quick note:

i dont really think itll be a series, maybe a bunch of chapters that might actually work as a full story or at least the same like universe, but im not sure if ill continue to write it regularly or not so just an heads up.

Also im in love with Aubrey plaza.

[devilish-cherry]

nanami relationship headcanons ♡

ᨳ♡₊➳ nanami x reader

ᨳ♡₊➳ crack, fluff

ᨳ♡₊➳ my other works

ᨳ♡₊➳ a/n: this post is just me projecting my need for someone emotionally mature and capable through nanami. please clap. 🙂‍↕️

₊⊹. nanami unironically has reminders set for relationship milestones. not because he's forgetful, but because he's practical. he'll deadpan tell you, "it's our anniversary tomorrow. expect a dinner that's slightly nicer than usual, but please keep your expectations reasonable."

₊⊹. you bought him novelty socks once. he said they were "childish." he now wears them every friday. they have little croissants on them. he doesn't talk about it. but when you pointed it out, he just said, "i was low on clean socks. coincidence." lies.

₊⊹. you once complained about him texting like a customer service chatbot. now, you'll get messages like "Dinner at 7. 👍" and after questioning him, he'll calmly explain, "i thought the thumbs up would indicate enthusiasm."

₊⊹. he respects your weird little hobbies like it's a full-time religion. you told him you liked collecting novelty erasers and now he's like, "i found this one shaped like a sushi roll. seemed appropriate. it's from a limited set." you don't even know where he finds these.

₊⊹. you once texted nanami "u up?" at 10:42 p.m. he responded at 6:00 a.m. the next day with, "I was asleep. As all sane adults should be." you then received a forwarded link to a sleep hygiene article and a reminder to hydrate. the man loves you, but sleep comes first. always.

₊⊹. on a particularly rough day, you find him staring dramatically out the window, murmuring, "this world continues to test my patience." when you ask what's wrong, he answers solemnly, "they discontinued my preferred rye bread."

₊⊹. he might complain about meaningless small talk, yet he listens patiently and intently whenever you excitedly ramble about your latest hyperfixation. later, you catch him quietly googling random obscure facts just so he can casually drop information into future conversations. "did you know," he'll begin flatly at dinner, "the specific species of salamander you adore has regenerative capabilities?" this is peak romance for him.

₊⊹. nanami keeps a grocery list in his notes app. it is secretly 80% just things you casually mentioned once.

₊⊹. if you have long hair, you notice he starts wearing your hair ties on his wrist. he vehemently denies sentimentality, claiming instead that it's practical, in case of "unexpected wind conditions."

₊⊹. he never says he misses you outright but texts random things like, "The house seems unnecessarily spacious today." you translate these awkwardly formal messages as "i miss you." and tease him relentlessly for it.

₊⊹. nanami looks so intimidatingly polished at all times, people assume he's naturally graceful. in reality, you've seen him bang his shin on the coffee table at least twice a week. each time he just quietly, painfully mutters, "fantastic."

₊⊹. the first time you suggest watching a cheesy romantic drama together, he provided dry commentary on unrealistic plot developments, muttering things like, "yes, because sprinting in heels through an airport is totally practical." with such seriousness you almost choke on your popcorn laughing.

₊⊹. despite being cool and collected, he's hilariously competitive at random things. he's calm until someone mentions board games. monopoly nights at home become overly serious. he mutters under his breath about property taxes, income inequality, and irresponsible fiscal policies as you nervously remind him, "nanami, it's fake money." he glares softly, "principles aren't fictional."

₊⊹. if you oversleep and panic, he watches calmly as you sprint around. when you complain, he sips his coffee and deadpans, "it’s simple: wake up earlier, or master teleportation."

₊⊹. nanami calls you by your name 95% of the time. once he called you "dear" and gojo materialized from the drywall like a poltergeist to scream about it. nanami now refuses to say anything remotely affectionate within a five-mile radius of gojo.

₊⊹. he is 100% the boyfriend who texts "Can you talk?" and immediately stresses you out, only to call and calmly ask, "which type of cereal did you want again?"

₊⊹. despite being generally indifferent towards animals, nanami somehow attracts stray cats. you regularly catch him sternly lecturing a cat, saying flatly, "i’m not feeding you again," while simultaneously sliding food toward it discreetly.

₊⊹. he openly claims he doesn’t nap. he merely "rests his eyes aggressively" on weekends, fully clothed on the couch, for precisely forty five minutes exactly.

₊⊹. he secretly enjoys watching documentaries about marine life but insists he's doing "important retirement research."

₊⊹. even though he seems eternally composed, when you get sick, nanami panics silently. he googles symptoms discreetly, sighs, then calmly states, "according to the internet, you either have a mild cold or twenty four hours left to live. please let me know which one so i can adjust my schedule accordingly."

₊⊹. he hates pda in theory, claiming it’s "inappropriate and disruptive," yet has zero hesitation holding your hand tightly when crossing busy streets, rationalizing it as "accident prevention."

₊⊹. nanami tries his absolute hardest to hate all forms of modern slang and phrases. until one day he overhears you calling gojo "a walking red flag" and suddenly he's very supportive.

₊⊹. you catch him watching cooking competition shows with intense seriousness, critiquing plating skills and muttering, "no self-respecting chef serves food smeared randomly like abstract art. are we dining or painting?"

₊⊹. despite his stoic demeanor, you catch glimpses of softness: like the slightly awkward way he offers his coat when you're cold, muttering, "don’t make a fuss, just wear it." or how he carefully holds the umbrella slightly more over you in the rain, grumbling about your poor planning yet never failing to protect you from a single raindrop.

₊⊹. he walks on the side of the sidewalk closest to traffic. holds doors for you even if it means awkwardly power-walking to get ahead. refills your water without being asked. the kind of love that’s low-volume but high-resolution.

[willowsnook]

Oblivious

hi hi hi!!! can I request pulled pork with bell peppers and wheat bread please??? thank youuuu! I adore your writing, and I hope you’re having a good week!!! <333

Charles leclerc x bsf!reader

I’d be insane not to love you

It was a gorgeous day in Belgium, and you were hanging out with your group of friends in Ferrari’s hospitality area.

“I’m bored; can we go walk around outside?” you asked Arthur, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. He chuckled and held out a hand to pull you up. Together, you walked down to the paddock, breathing in the summer air and the lively atmosphere.

“Arthur!” a voice called from behind you. You turned to see an unfamiliar face waving at your friend—a guy with a youthful charm and a sun-kissed complexion that matched his dark hair. He was grinning, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he looked at you as if he already knew you.

“What’s up, man?” Arthur said, pulling the guy into a hug. “Have you met Y/N?”

The guy shook his head and extended his hand. “I’m Gabriel.”

“Nice to meet you,” you replied with a smile, and his gaze lingered on you for a beat longer, like he was connecting some dots.

“You’re Charles’s friend, right?” he asked. You nodded, and he laughed. “Yeah, he told me to stay away from you.”

Arthur laughed, but you blinked in surprise. “He told you to stay away from me?”

Gabriel flashed a cheeky grin. “Probably afraid I’d sweep you off your feet.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. “Why would he care?”

Gabriel shot Arthur an amused look, as if they knew something you didn’t.

Back at the garage, you couldn’t stop replaying the conversation, even as Charles caught up with you. “Are you okay?” he asked, scanning you with concerned eyes. “Did you get something to eat? Water?”

“Yes, Charlie, I’m fine,” you giggled, and he relaxed a bit.

“Are you staying down here or going up to the club?” he asked.

“Maybe upstairs with everyone else,” you replied.

A slight frown appeared on his face. “Unless... maybe stay down here? It’s more interesting down here, ya know?”

“Okay I’ll stay down here,” you agreed and he smiled. “I met someone new today.”

“Oh yeah, who?” He asked.

“Gabriel Bortoleto,” you replied and you watched him look away instantly, cheeks reddening. “And he said the funniest thing.” 

“He’s a funny guy,” Charles mumbled and you smirked. 

“Hilarious, especially the joke about how you told him to stay away from me,” you drawled out and Charles was looking anywhere but at you.

Before he could answer, Bryan called for him, and Charles looked relieved to escape the conversation. “Gotta go! And don’t wander, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I mean it, mon cheri,” he said, giving you a quick hug before heading off.

Rebecca was already sitting by the screens, so you joined her, and the older woman gave you a wide smile. 

“Watching from down here today?” She asked and you nodded, fiddling with the headset. 

“Charles insisted,” you replied, and she smirked. You told her about the incident with Gabriel and she just laughed, shaking her head. 

“When are you going to realize that Charles is in love with you?” she asked playfully.

You laughed. “He’s not in love with me. I’m just his best friend.”

“You’re the only best friend down here, though,” she commented, but you brushed it off.

------------------------------------

Summer break meant one thing: Charles bothering you nonstop to hang out. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around your 9-to-5, which is why you were now on a walking lunch with him, walking Leo through a nearby park.

“You should just quit your job,” Charles said for the millionth time.

“I need money, Charlie,” you reminded him as Leo sniffed the grass. “Not all of us get paid millions for working weekends.”

He ignored your comment. “Let me fund your lifestyle.”

“And be what—your maid?” you joked, rolling your eyes. “You’re asking me to be a stay-at-home wife without marrying me.”

He muttered something under his breath, and you looked at him. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, tugging Leo along.

You sighed. “I like my job, Charles.”

“I know. I just don’t like that I can’t see you whenever I want.”

“We see each other all the time.” 

“It’s not enough,” he mumbled and you grabbed his hand, forcing him to look at you. 

“You are my best friend Charles,” you told him. “It doesn’t matter if I see you everyday or just once a week, nothing is going to change that.” 

-----------------------------------------

That night you were at the Leclerc’s family home, as they had invited you over for dinner along with the boys. After dinner, you, Charles, and Arthur stayed up drinking and while you paced yourself, Charles did not. 

You knew he was drunk because he had been so physically affectionate for the past hour. It started with him moving his arm behind you while you guys were seated on the back patio. Then, he ran his hand up and down your thigh. Now his head was lying in your lap, and you absentmindedly massaged your fingers through his hair.

You were telling Arthur about your latest work project when Charles chimed in. 

“I told her to just quit her job,” he complained to Arthur.

Arthur smirked. “And be your stay-at-home wife?”

“That’s what she said—and that I’d have to marry her,” he grumbled, as if you weren’t right there. “Which was already my plan.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up, and you froze. Charles hadn’t said anything like this before. But he was drunk. Just drunk thoughts... right?

“You know she can hear you Charles,” his brother said nervously. 

“It doesn’t matter, I could kiss her on the lips right now, and she’d probably just write it off as something ‘best friends do.”

Arthur didn’t say anything; you just sat there, mind-reeling. Your hand was frozen, and Charles reached up to grab it so that you could keep massaging his head. Arthur said goodnight to you, and you stayed out contemplating what had just happened. The Gabriel thing made sense to you now, but he had never said anything before. These were probably just drunk thoughts. Yeah, that made the most sense. 

“I’m tired,” Charles said, looking up at you. “Will you stay the night?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said softly, and he frowned. 

“Why? You always do,” he pushed back. 

“I just want to go home,” you whispered, moving off the couch after he sat up. Avoiding his stare, you grabbed your keys and headed towards the door. He called after you, but you kept walking; you just needed to breathe. You were supposed to leave with Charles tomorrow to fly to Spain to see Rebecca and Carlos, but now you were very stressed. 

-------------------------------

The next morning, Charles acted like nothing had happened, which was somehow both comforting and frustrating. You both fell into your usual traveling routine, playing cards and chess to distract him on the flight to Spain, where Rebecca and Carlos were waiting at a coastal villa.

As you toured the villa, Rebecca shared a bit of news with a smirk. “There’s only two bedrooms.”

Your heart skipped, but Charles simply shrugged. “No problem. We’ve shared a room before.”

Smiling weakly you agreed and followed him to put the luggage away. 

“I’m going to change into my swim shorts and go down to the beach,” Charles told you as you unpacked your suitcase. 

“That’s a good idea, I’ll do the same.” 

You heard him go into the bathroom to change so you decided to change in the main room. Pulling out your favorite black bikini, you slipped the bottoms on but were struggling to tie it behind your back when you heard the bathroom door open. 

“Can you help me?” You called out to Charles and you heard him walking towards you. He didn’t say anything, and you felt his fingers brush against your bare back as he tied the strings. Turning around to thank him, the words caught in your throat when you saw the look on his face. He was flushed, his pupils blown wide as he glanced up and down at you, wearing basically nothing in front of him. 

“Thank you Charlie,” you whispered softly and he swallowed before murmuring a response. 

Thinking about what he had said last night, you felt the tension between the two of you even as you walked down to the beach. Charles went to join Carlos in the water, and you plopped down next to Rebecca. 

Filling her in on what happened last night she smiled knowingly at you.

“He basically confessed he’s in love with you, and here you are, making excuses.”

“He was drunk!”

“Oh my god,” she said laughing. “He was right, he literally could kiss you and you wouldn’t believe it. I just don’t understand.”

“I don’t know,” you said sighing. “I guess it’s insecurity; he lives in this world of glamour and flashing lights full of influencers and celebrities. I’m just me, a normal girl who has a normal job and a normal past.”

Rebecca squeezed your hand. “Have you ever thought maybe he likes you because of that? That maybe you make him feel like he can just be himself when he’s with you and not Charles Leclerc the Ferrari golden boy?”

“I guess,” you said thoughtfully. You had never really looked at your friendship with Charles that way, but it made sense. While yes Charles invited you to races and fancy trips with him, you often spent time doing mundane things together, like walking Leo or getting groceries. When you really thought about it, you realized that those were your favorite moments. You would take cooking dinner together on a random Monday night anytime over accompanying him to an event. 

Fuck, you were in love with your best friend and it scared the hell out of you. 

-------------------------------------

The next day, you avoided Charles at all costs, which was pretty difficult considering you were basically on a couples vacation. It also was incredibly noticeable how you insisted that Rebecca be your partner for everything and wanted to just have girl time in the afternoon. 

She didn’t bring him up, but she knew you were waging an internal war with yourself, so all she could do was be there if you wanted to talk it through. Your feelings were still at the forefront of your mind when dinner rolled around, and you were much quieter than usual. It was like Rebecca and Carlos were out for dinner because they were the only ones talking. You were eating silently, and Charles was just staring at you. 

Fed up with the situation, Carlos stood up, pushing his chair back, “I think I would like to spend some quality time with my girlfriend, so goodnight you too.” 

Rebecca smirked at her boyfriend, knowing he was impatient with the dance you and Charles were doing around each other, and got up to follow him. Gathering the plates, you walked back into the kitchen, and Charles followed you, helping dry as you washed the dishes. 

You were about to turn to go upstairs when he gently grabbed your elbow, causing you to look at him, “Can we take a walk? Please?”

Those dark blue eyes looked at you with such a pleading gaze that you nodded. 

Slipping off your shoes, you followed him down to the beach, and the walk was silent for a bit as you stuck in your head. 

“Mon cheri, please tell me what’s wrong,” Charles said, breaking the silence to look at you. He had stopped walking, and you turned to him, eyes already filling up with tears. 

“Tell me what to do to fix this,” he begged, and you felt like all your emotions were going to burst like a volcano. 

“I’m in love with you Charles!” You yelled, surprising even yourself. Charles’ eyes widened and a grin broke out on his face. 

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to wipe a stray tear from your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost skittish as if he were afraid you might disappear if he moved too quickly. You felt a shiver run through you, not from the cool evening air but from the intensity of his gaze.

“Then why are you crying?” he asked softly, his voice filled with a warmth you’d only dared to imagine. You took a shaky breath, trying to gather the courage to say everything that had been locked in your heart.

“Because… because I’m afraid. Afraid of losing what we have, of things changing, of you finding someone who actually fits into your world,” you whispered, your eyes cast down.

Charles cupped your face gently, tilting it up so you had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Mon chéri, I don’t want anyone else. I don’t care about the parties, or the cameras, or the lights. When I’m with you, I can just be Charles. Not the driver, not the celebrity—just… me. I'd be insane not to love you,” he murmured, his voice filled with a sincerity that made your heart swell.

Before you could fully process his words, his lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, testing. But as you melted into him, all your worries slipped away, replaced by the overwhelming warmth of his kiss. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let you go.

When he pulled back, you could see the hint of a smile on his face, soft and full of promise. “I love you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

"I love you too, Charlie."

[uravitypng]

𝗧𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥

pairing: kei tsukishima x (chubby) reader, tadashi yamaguchi x (chubby) reader

summary: nothing could ever split you and your best friends apart

word count: 1.6k words

a/n: this is complete fluff! i adore them! originally it wasn't meant to be under a cut but i decided it was too long to not be. this has been on my mind for about a couple months and has been in my drafts for about a week or two now. even though this isn't smut my blog is 18+ and that includes this post to, mdni

best friends tsukki and tadashi who absolutely love you but tsukishima won't tell you that, he won't even admit it to himself. yamaguchi is more honest with his feelings, he doesn't deny his own feelings and is open in his words, telling you how he cares about you, calling you affectionate nicknames and giving you compliments.

"have you had dinner yet honey?" yamaguchi questions.

"huh? oh.. um... yeah..." you haven't. you haven't had lunch either, work was hectic and you were planning on having something but nothing was microwavable and you've run out of cereal and bread, so you can't make toast, too.

at your answer your two best friends pause what they were doing. it's a tuesday night and you're planning on watching a documentary that's just come onto netflix that kei's been talking about. you have a blanket in one hand and a pillow in the other, ready to cosy up on the sofa, tadashi's making himself a coffee in the kitchen and tsukki's in the hallway, when they hear you they pause and make there way to you, supporting matching frowns. they can tell by your response that you're lying, plus the fact that you likely didn't eat anything at lunch either, they hope you ate at breakfast.

"that doesn't really sound believable hon," yamaguchi tells you.

"yeah cut the shit," tsukishima adds on.

"i-um, the boss was really on my case today so i didn't have time to eat on my break and i was planning on eating when i got home before you guys came, i was going to get something easy that isn't a lot of effort but i don't have anything in. i'll have to go shopping tomorrow."

"idiot," kei says under his breath and walks past you, sitting on the sofa and unlocking his phone.

tadashi moves behind you and holds your shoulders gently pushing you to follow tsukishima. "you know you need to eat." he moves you to join tsukki on the sofa and squeezes your shoulder before going back into the kitchen to fetch his coffee and join you both.

tsukishima's flicking down his phone, the light reflecting of his glasses, "you want me to order from that pizza place down the street or do you want sushi?"

it's a weekend, one of the very rare weekends when peoples schedules are free, four on the team. hinata, kageyama and kei and tadashi.

currently your best friends are being questioned by hinata about their feelings for you. complete denial from tsukishima, "what?! what are you talking about pipsqueak, there's nothing going on between us. like i would ever like her! yamaguchi tell him!"

yamaguchi looks at tsukishima to hinata, then back again at tsukishima, "what am i telling him tsukki?"

"are you fucking kidding me yamaguchi! tell him that i'm not in love with her or that you're not in love with her. tell her that she's not dating one of us!"

"ohhh-" tadashi nods his head, "hinata, tsukki always says that he doesn't feel that way. koganegawa asked something similar before and afterwards koganegawa told me that during training that day tsukki's blocks had a hundreds time more power than normal and it was really intimating."

"what about you then yamaguchi?"

"oh it's-" he's cut off as his phone rings. "sorry, i should get this." after a minute he hangs up and puts his phone in his back pocket, "i need to go guys, that was the hospital."

tsukishima quickly stands up, yamaguchi is on two people's contact list his and... 'oh fuck,' kei panics. "is she okay?!"

"yeah it's just a sprain, she twisted her ankle but they called to have someone pick her up. she can't drive and it's best not to take public transport right away."

"let's go then." tsukishima grabs his car keys and wallet that was on the table.

they have been looking after you since you've met them, and it's clear to yamaguchi that kei feels the same way he does even if he'll never voice it, that's one of main reasons why yamaguchi would never ask you out.

it's clear to yamaguchi, like, for instance right now, as kei's driving to pick you up after your accident, silent with a worried look on his face, it's clear to yamaguchi how much tsukki cares. how tsukki refers to you as 'shortcake,' he doesn't think you've ever made the connection that he calls you his favourite food. he doesn't eat much, hardly anything really, but shortcake? he has cravings.

they've been your best friends since school, and have been calling you nicknames since then too.

you're pouting with your arms crossed while the three of you study together, it's your second year at karasuno and exams were coming up. kei and tadashi are in a different class than you, both of them are in class 2-4, it was annoying that you weren't in their class. not only were they in the best class but they were the best of the class so they helped you with studying a lot of time. tsukishima was always reluctant, saying he had better things to do but he still always turned up at tadashi's house for study sessions. you tapped your pen frustrated at the question you were stuck on, that's when kei asked do you need him to explain it and tadashi asked if you were okay.

"are you really stuck on these? they're easy." both of you glare at tsukishima. he leans over to you, "which one? i'll talk you through it."

"do you really want to listen to tsukki honey? i'm better at japanese."

"yeah but you're terrible at english." tsukishima smirks at him. you weren't even planning to revise english for a couple more weeks.

all that night he kept replaying that conversation, he kept replaying how yamaguchi called you honey. a little while after that he started to call you shortcake.

all three of you were walking home together from school one night when kei called you shortcake again, you stopped on the spot and turned to look at them, pouting with your arms crossed. "what's with both of you calling me food petnames? honey? shortcake? if i was someone else i think i would be offended, just because someone's not thin and on the thicker side you shouldn't call them food names. i know i like food but still!" tsukishima started calling you it more, you looked cute with that pout on your face pretending not to like the names. after he realises he called you cute in his head, he puts in his earbuds and blasts his music as loud as possible. you rolled your eyes at the action, 'yams can we stop of at the shops? i don't want to admit it but i really want some shortcake now' you ask him and yamaguchi snickers.

you all attend a party together after your ankle is fully healed, it's someone's birthday. both you and yamaguchi are lightweights and tsukishima's well aware that by the end of the night he'll most likely be looking after the two of you. yamaguchi isn't drunk yet, however you are, leaning against and wrapping you arms around his neck. "yams," you whine in a tone to get his attention however that was pointless because all of his attention was already focused on you when you pressed your soft plump body up against him, "you're so cute! your freckles are so pretty! you're so pretty 'dashi."

yamaguchi smiles wide and pats your head, you giggle. "you're even cuter."

your walk is almost a stumble as you go to tsukishima. kei can tell something is wrong when he spots you walking towards you, you have a frown on your face and your movement is wobbly. "what's up with you?" he asks you as soon as you get close enough.

"nothing!" you snap, turning your head to the side. it's a surprise that you're not shooting daggers at the girl who's standing a bit too close to your best friend in your opinion. "who's this?" you ask, your words are slightly slurred but sound almost detached and cold.

"ume, she's the sister of one of the sendai frogs," tsukishima replies.

"oh?" 'so not a girlfriend, just a sister?' you grab hold of kei's arm. he's not really one for physical affection but he lets you get away with it, especially when drunk. "kei's my best friend! you can't have him!" tsukishima smirks, knowing that your attempts at looking menacingly and glaring are completely unsuccessful.

ume's eyes widen, with a small smile on her face she says over the music that sounds like she mumbles, "alright, i'll go find my brother."

when her back is turned you stick out your tongue and tsukki sniggers. "you alright now shortcake?" he smirks. "you do know that other people have to talk to me. you can't just keep me stopping on talking to people shortcake."

you look at him in the eye and pout, "'m not doing that. you have tadashi too!" tsukishima chuckles. "it's us three forever tsukki, nothing's gonna change that."

tsukishima's eyes shine with fondness and longing as they drift over to where yamaguchi is, currently laughing at kageyama's scrunched up face as he attempts to down a drink. knowing you'll be too drunk to remember this by tomorrow, he drinks the rest of his whiskey that he was currently nursing and he walks the short distance towards the chairs knowing that you won't let go of his arm and pulls you down on his lap, facing him. the chair is lumpy and uncomfy but it's one hundred percent worth it to have you on top of him. your eyes are a bit glazed over and you look at him dazed, he clasps both his hands in yours. "you're right about that shortcake, us three forever."