#I LOVE MY FAIRY TYPES OKAY?

[pokimoko]

Asexual bird? Please

How about two asexual birds?

[servingcocoa]

🥧💭 FAIRY-TYPE BI & LESBIAN TRAINER MIKU PRIDE ICONS !! [flags by wuvsbian]

✧･ﾟplease like or reblog if saving 🍂 not requested ･ﾟ✧

[lia-linny]

summary: A hilarious TikTok trend changes yn's life when her crush sees the funny video titled "reasons why i would date Lee Felix" and a notification pops up in her phone the day after: "@leefelix_brownieboy posted a video"

genre: fluff, Highschool au, social media romance

words: 1.9k

"What about Wooyoung?"

The chatter in the school cafeteria was as loud as ever, but at the table where yn sat with her friends, it felt like a world of its own. Loud, chaotic, and full of giggles. Typical teenage conversations were held, from the latest fashion trends to celebrity gossip. That day, they first passionately discussed how cute Bang Chan and his new girlfriend the skater girl looked together. Then, the topic had shifted to relationships in general, and her friends had started wondering why yn was still single. Determined to change that as soon as possible, they decided to set her up with someone. All they needed now was to find someone who match all her criteria.

"Wooyoung is way too flirty for me," yn replied with a smirk to Karina’s question.

"Jungwon?" Winter chimed in.

"Nah... not really my type..." Yn was sitting between Karina and Winter, across from Ningning and Giselle, while her friends worked through their mental list of guys with the precision of a detective team. As she twirled the straw in her iced tea can, Giselle asked:

"Sunghoon? Figure skater energy?"

"I’d fall, and he’d definitely laugh at me." That sparked another round of giggles.

Giselle rested her chin in her hand. "Girl, your type doesn’t even exist. You’re picky times ten."

"That’s called having standards," yn shot back with a grin but deep down, she knew her friend was right. She had never been someone who fell in love easily. She preferred to watch, analyze, and take her time. If you were going to fall, then it should be for the right one, right? Why waste time just to find out that he is an asshole?

"Okay, wait." Ningning leaned in, her voice a little softer, almost teasing. "What about Felix?" Something tightened in yn’s stomach. Bullseye.

"Felix?"

"Yeah, you know. Bakes like a god, gamer, freckles." All eyes turned to her. Yn had tried to stay neutral, but the telltale blush on her cheeks had given her away. Plus, she was pretty sure anyone within a ten-kilometer radius could hear her pounding heartbeat.

"Oh my God, she’s blushing!" Karina exclaimed.

"He’s just..." yn sighed, playing with her fork in the food. "He’s exactly my type. Looks-wise. Personality-wise. He’s just so..."

"Sunshine?" Giselle teased with a grin. Yn nodded slowly, a quiet smile playing on her lips.

"Guys, I think our angel is in love! Omg, we have to get them together!!! Sunshine meets sunshine!"

"You two TikTok nerds would vibe perfectly," Winter said.

"You’d go viral before you’re even official!" Ningning laughed. Yn laughed along, but one thought stuck in her mind. Felix. She had never really talked to him just a few fleeting glances in the hallway, maybe some mutual TikTok likes but something about him felt... magnetic.

She pushed the thought aside. It was just a fun conversation among friends, nothing more. It wasn’t like she actually had anything to do with him...

But later that night, while scrolling through TikTok and stumbling upon the new trend “Reasons why I would date…”, a thought flickered. What if?

It was just after midnight, the light in yn’s room dimmed, only the fairy lights above her desk casting a warm, flickering glow across the walls. Her finger hovered above the record button. It was just for fun. She propped up her phone on a stack of books, fixed her hair, and pulled the hood of her sweatshirt slightly over her forehead for the vibe. Then she hit record.

“Reasons why I would date... Lee Felix.”

For social media, yn had scraped together every bit of confidence she could find. It was meant to be funny. She looked at the camera with a grin as she raised her fingers one by one, counting off the reasons.

"1. He's nicer to strangers than 90% of people will ever be.

2. He bakes. And well. I mean, come on.

3. His freckles are cuter than anything I’ve ever seen. They are like little stars on his face. It looks so friendly.

4. His laugh. I can’t even explain it, but my heart literally does a flip. I’m convinced that every time Felix smiles, he saves a life somewhere in the world.

5. His voice is fucking hot..."

At the last point, she had to giggl a bit and hid her face in her hands. She ended the video with a crooked smile and added a caption:

@ just.yn'n.bakin: just girly things ~ only my mutuals will see this anyway lol 🍪☀️"

The next morning, she had just wanted to check if her best friend had replied to one of her messages. Instead, TikTok had been blinking with 999+ new notifications. Her eyes widened with shock.

"Oh my God." The video had gone viral overnight. Not “haha a few likes”-viral. Millions of views. And tens of thousands of comments, like: “I ship you two SO HARD.” “Felix, you’ve got 24 hours, bro.” “Manifesting this relationship.” “Why am I crying over this???”

Yn stared at the screen as her fingers trembled.

Ping!

Message from Karina: “YOU’RE GOING VIRAL?!”

Then Winter: “Felix definitely saw it.” Seconds later, another one: “He’s literally liking the comments?? Girl I see your love story already!”

Her heart had started racing fast. Faster. Way too fast. She had never thought this would turn into something real when she recorded the video. She hadn’t even dreamed that Felix might actually see it. Somehow, it all felt... embarrassing. Did it make her seem hopelessly in love? Would he find it weird? Cringe? She could already imagine a response video: "Reasons why I would NOT date yn!!!!!! 🤢🤮😂"

Ping!

Notification TikTok: “@leefelix_brownieboy posted a new video.” Still trying to steady her breathing, she quickly tapped the push notification. Her video the one she had half-jokingly recorded before bed was now part of a duet.

Left side: her original. Right side: Felix.

He was sitting cross-legged on his bed in a hoodie, a blanket half-draped over his legs, his hair messy. But his grin was bright and a little shy. He let the video play in full lenght without interrupting, but it was clear he was struggling not to laugh. His cheeks growing redder with every reason she listed.

Yn, watching, had also turned increasingly red as she saw Felix listening to every single word she had said about him the night before. And just when she was about to die of embarrassment... He started his own list.

“Reasons why I would date yn.

Sunshine recognizes sunshine.

2. She bakes better than me. And I don’t say that lightly. You can literally taste the love in her baking. I almost proposed to her when she handed out those cinnamon rolls on her birthday last year.

3. She makes TikToks that are meant just for her friends and still manages to make me laugh so hard I’ve got a whole folder where I save them.

4. She always likes the same TikToks I do. It’s creepy. But cute. She’s funnier than she admits.

5. And… she stole my heart faster than my friends could even send me her video."

At the end, he looked straight into the camera, tilted his head slightly, his tone soft almost unsure but clearly meant for her.

“Yn, if you’re watching this… I wouldn’t be uninterested. Just saying.” The video had ended with a wink, and her eyes had immediately jumped to the caption:

@ leefelix_brownieboy: Someone tell her I’ll be looking for her in the hallway today.

~☆~

Yn felt like every pair of eyes in the hallway was on her. And she probably wasn’t wrong at least three students had already smiled at her like she was some kind of local celebrity. Some of the younger girls, standing in a whispering circle, looked like they were seconds away from asking for a selfie, the way they were dreamily staring at yn.

She tried her best at stucking close to Karina as they made their way to the lockers. But then yn heard a familiar voice. The same voice she had, just yesterday, publicly declared as hot. “Hey.”

She turned around. Felix stood right in front of her, hands tucked into his pockets, that same crooked grin from his TikTok but somehow more real in person. From the far end of the hallway, the group of girls squealed in delight, and yn was pretty sure one of them was about to faint.

“So… uh. Sunshine meets sunshine, huh?” His gaze turned a little cautious, like he was trying to gauge her reaction. Yn let out a soft laugh, then nodded.

“I guess TikTok shipps us.”

“Then we probably shouldn’t disappoint the internet,” he said with a smirk. A brief pause followed. Yn couldn’t quite tell if he was flirting or asking if she wanted to film a TikTok together.

“Kinda random but... coffee after school? Or cupcake baking? I’ll bring the ingredients, you bring that love-recipe of yours?” Yn’s grin grew.

“Only if you help bake.”

“Deal.”

TikTok or date? Maybe it could be both.

~☆~

The air was thick with the scent of vanilla and melted chocolate, wrapping around the two of them like a second layer of sugar. They both had a natural charm when it came to socializing. Chatting with people had never been hard for either of them but this didn’t feel like just any new aquintance. The conversation flowed easily, jumping from topic to topic, laughter echoing between them as they built inside jokes like it was second nature. Something between them just clicked.

While yn kneaded dough for the second batch with flour-dusted fingers, Felix stood beside her with a piping bag in hand, brows furrowed in concentration like cupcake decorating was a sacred art.

“If you stare at that piece of baked dough any harder, I’m gonna get jealous,” yn teased. Felix looked up, pushed his bottom lip out playfully, and grinned.

“I just want you to know I can do more than TikTok dances. I have to bring out all my baking skills to impress you.” He held up a cupcake with a tiny, hand-drawn heart on top.

“Try it.” She took a bite and immediately burst into laughter.

“You swapped salt and sugar in the frosting, sweetie.”

“What?! No-” He yanked the cupcake back, tasted it himself, and pulled a disgusted face. “Okay, plan B: I bring the romance, you save the flavor.” He wiggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated flirt, which sent them both into another round of laughter.

Once yn had finished baking the rest of the muffins and they had decorated them this time with actual sweet frosting they arranged the cupcakes neatly on the kitchen table. The phone was clipped into the tripod, TikTok already recording. Felix grinned into the camera.

“Okay, guys, you wanted an update…” He gestured to yn, who gave a shy little wave, cheeks slightly pink. “This gorgeous girl said yes mostly to cupcakes, but also kinda to me.” They both giggled and grabbed a cupcake each, holding them up in front of their faces like silly dough-eyed monsters. And just before the recording timer ran out, Felix leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

@ just.yn’n.baking: From TikTok mutuals to cupcake partners. Recipe for love?

The comments exploded: “STOP I’M CRYING THIS IS TOO WHOLESOME” “The internet really just played cupid for a softboy and a softgirl.” “Think I’ll try TikTok instead of Tinder now. This gives me hope.” “If they start dating I won’t even know which one I’m more jealous of.”

~☆~

A warm Sunday afternoon, sunlight spilling golden through the half-open window. Felix’s room was a cozy mess: a gaming setup in one corner, a plushie on the bed that yn had jokingly given him weeks ago now clearly treasured and a fruit plate his mom had brought in with a knowing look. A TikTok tripod stood in the middle of the room.

“Okay, this time you’re nailing the drop, right?” yn teased.

“Hey! I’ve gotten better.” She tossed him a hair tie with a laugh. He caught it and tried to tie back the loose strands of his long blond hair, but the ponytail failed miserably most of his hair fell right back into his face.

“Let me do it,” she said without thinking and stepped closer, gently gathering his hair in her hands. She was standing so close now that Felix had to swallow hard. When her hands dropped, they looked at each other. Their eyes met long, deep, and quiet. But just as quickly as the moment came, it passed.

They both stepped back, the music started. Three… two… one they danced. But at the crucial part, Felix missed the beat, stumbled, and nearly fell backward straight into yn. She didn’t fall, thankfully, instinctively placing her hands on his waist to steady him. His face was just inches from hers. Suddenly everything went quiet. The music was still playing, but they could barely hear it. Yn’s heart thudded in her chest. Felix’s breath brushed against her cheek. The distance between them was so small. So easy to close. But neither moved. They were too new at this. Too unsure. As far as yn knew, Felix had never had a partner. Neither had she.

Later she saved the video in her drafts. Too sweet to delete. Too intimate to post.

~☆~

A gray Tuesday. The sky above the school looked like someone had drained all the color from it. Thick, looming clouds were gathering. something was definitely brewing up there. And right on cue, as the final bell of the day echoed through the halls, a sudden downpour broke loose.

“Oh no,” yn murmured, clutching her backpack closer. Of course she hadn’t checked her weather app that morning. Now she was standing there no umbrella, no jacket just a light top already fluttering from the sharp wind.

“Here.” Before she could protest, Felix had tugged off his hoodie. warm, soft, smelling like him and pulled it over her head, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“But you’ll get soaked.”

“I’m Australian. I’ve seen worse,” he grinned. They walked through the rain together, shoulders brushing. Even though his shirt was getting soaked, he looked at her like none of it mattered like she was the only thing that did.

Cautiously, she slipped her hand into his. And it felt so right, they practically floated home.

“Keep it warm for me. Or keep yourself warm with it. Both work.” That had been Felix’s last message. He’d walked her home, hoodie and all flashing her a shy smile as he told her to keep it. The butterflies it gave her then? Gone now.

Because the rain had left her with a cold. Her nose was red, her throat scratchy. She layed curled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, some random Netflix series droning in the background as she scrolled aimlessly through social media. The day dragged on like molasses. She had canceled on her friends and was now just... existing in a pile of tissues and self-pity.

The soft chime from the doorbell snapped her out of it. Groaning, she shuffled to the door only to blink in surprise when she opened it to see familiar doe eyes and a freckled face. Felix stood there. One hand held a small paper bag, the other a thermos. His hoodie was pulled up over his damp blonde hair, misted with rain. Somehow, that made him look even more handsome.

“Heard you’re not quite yourself today.” yn blinked.

“How did you…?”

“Karina. And the TikTok silence. Very un-yn to not post something silly all day.” He offered the bag to her.

“Cough drops figured your throat’s killing you. And… ginger tea. I know, it tastes like trash, but it works.” She gave a raspy laugh.

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe. But cute while doing it.” She let him in. They didn’t talk much he sat on the floor while she remained bundled up on the couch. They both scrolled through TikTok, showing each other their favorites now and then. It was low-energy, simple… but somehow perfect. And somewhere between one video and the next, yn fell asleep.

~☆~

The TikTok started with light and romantic pop music. Felix stood in the foreground, Chan holding the phone, and Hyunjin commentating loudly off-camera: “Okay guys, today’s the day. Sunshine’s asking Sunshine!”

Cut.

A timelapse of the boys decorating a small garden, fairy lights twinkled overhead, handmade paper stars hung from branches, and colorful paintings swayed gently in the breeze.

Cut.

Felix, in a pastel yellow shirt, tried to mask his nerves with his signature crooked grin.

“She has no idea,” he said to the camera. “when this works, it’s gotta be the most wholesome TikTok move of the year. Holy crap, I’m nervous.”

Cut.

Yn appeared, led into the garden by Ningning, who could barely suppress her squeal. When yn saw the lights, she froze. Her eyes widened. The boys stood in a line, each holding a sign. Above them hung a banner: "REASONS WHY I WANT YOU TO BE MY GIRLFRIEND:"

Cut.

A clip played showing the signs up close:

1. Because every day with you feels like my favorite song and I never want to hit pause.

2. Because you wear my hoodie like it’s always been yours.

3. Because you’d give me the last cupcake.

4. Because you record our cringe moments and turn them into my favorites.

5. Because you’re sweet. But not just that. You’re brave, smart, funny… and most off all perfect for me.

6. Because your laugh makes me laugh even when I have no idea what’s funny.

7. Because you make me feel chosen. And you’re picky. But you picked me.

At the end, Felix stood there holding a cupcake, his eyes soft, his smile quietly excited.

Cut.

YN’s eyes glistened as the realization hit. Gently, Felix stepped closer.

“Yn… from the first video, I knew you were special. And with every laugh, every cupcake, every second together… I knew it even more.” He cleared his throat, voice shaking slightly as he looked into her eyes.

“So… will you be my girlfriend? Officially? My Sunshine?” Yn covered her mouth, eyes wide. She was laughing half overwhelmed, half head-over-heels.

“Yes. A hundred times yes.” She threw her arms around him, and as cheers erupted behind them, she kissed him. Soft. Warm. Honest.

The boys exploded behind them. Changbin shouted, “FINALLY!” Hyunjin zoomed in dramatically. Seungmin threw confetti. Jisung yelled, “THAT’S MY BOY!”

Pure chaos erupted. The video ended on a freeze frame of the kiss, calmly lit by the fairy lights.

@ leefelix_brownieboy: Sunshine x Sunshine official now! 🙀🥳💙

[fizzyapplecandy]

Ateez as Romance Tropes

The one with the flower crown

Other members

Mingi x reader

Genres and warnings: biker Mingi, preschool teacher reader, strangers to lovers, established relationship, mild mature content, fluff, happy ending

Word count: 2.8k

Mingi's black and white world became a burst of colours once you entered, and he wants to seal the deal with a flower

Two years ago, one of Mingi's worst days ever was about to become the best day of his life. The day he met you, the love of his life. Mingi wasn't usually one to express his feelings out loud, but you brought the romantic side out of him.

His new bike had just crashed, the engine shutting off completely in the middle of a secluded road. He loved riding his bike along the forest roads, but today just wasn't meant to be. Luckily, just as he was about to give up hope, a small yellow Mini Cooper pulled up beside him.

"Hey there, need any help?"

When he took a closer look at the person behind the wheel, his breath stopped. You were the most gorgeous human being Mingi had ever seen in his life. Your smile was contagious, but he had to hold himself together. Clad in ripped jeans, a black tank top and a chunky leather jacket, with his Harley next to him, he was the epitome of a bad boy. How on earth he drew you in, you didn't know, but those big, doe like eyes sealed the deal.

"Oh... Well, if you know how to fix a bike engine, then yes. If not, move along."

Okay, Mingi had to admit that was kind of rude to say, but he panicked. There you were, in your white summer dress all cheerful, willing to help a stranger. Did you not know about stranger danger?

Instead of taking offence to his response, you only chuckled and got out of your car. You were a lot smaller than him, and it stirred something deep inside of him.

"I hate to disappoint you, but the only bike I can fix is the one you have to pedal, so we're out of luck. But, I can drive you into town if you want?"

Mingi scoffed, trying to avoid looking into her eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be scared of a stranger? How are you so willing to help?"

You smiled, stepping closer to him and checking him out.

"You're Song Mingi, right? You come to pick up Jiwoo from preschool once in a while?"

"How do you know that?" He asked, his brows furrowed.

"I'm teaching the class next door, so I see you sometimes. It's hard not to notice you, dressed in chains and leather all the time."

"Hey, you make it seem like I'm into some S&M type of shit, you know?"

You put your hands on your hips, shaking your head.

"Language, mister."

"Sorry." He immediately responded, a bit flustered about the impact you had on him.

"So, do you want a ride or not?"

Two years later, you were living with him in the apartment above his workshop, all decked out in flowers and fairy lights. Mingi let you decorate the place however you wanted, and he even stayed silent when you brought fresh flowers into his shop.

His friends were always ready to tease the bad boy, but Mingi never complained. Sometimes, you wondered if he would think you'd be ruining his image, but Mingi couldn't care less. As long as his princess was happy, he was too.

"Sugar, are you home?" His deep voice boomed from the entrance.

"In the kitchen!" You shouted, continuing to stir the pot with your strawberry jam.

"Ooh, it smells nice in here. What is my sugar plum making?"

Two strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, and you leaned back on his sturdy chest. The scent of leather and motor oil wafted into your nose, and the smile on your face was inevitable.

"Strawberry jam. I went to the market after preschool, and couldn't help myself when I saw them."

"You should always act on your impulses, really. That way we can have fresh jam all year around."

"Are you saying I'm impulsive? I always have a plan!"

Mingi chuckled, strengthening his hold on you.

"Oh, like the time you bought red hair dye and cried when it actually turned out red?"

You gasped, leaving the spoon beside the pot and turning around in his grip.

"Well, you said you liked it!" Your arms went up to his shoulders, grabbing the lapels of his jacket.

"I would like you even if you were bald. Hair doesn't matter to me. Oh! What about that time you wanted to get a tattoo like me, but cried when the artist showed you the needle?"

"Hey, I wanted to do it for you! You wouldn't stop laughing after we left the parlour." You pouted, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Well, trying to, because he was too tall for you to reach properly.

"Sorry, sugar. You were just too cute."

Mingi placed a kiss on your hair, running his fingers through it. He missed you today, more than he could explain. For some reason, whenever Mingi is stressed his only thought is to come home to you, and today has been awful.

"Want to know something?" He whispered into your ear.

"What?" You asked, lifting your head to look into his glossy eyes.

"I couldn't stop thinking about that little number you wore to bed last night. It made it really difficult to focus all day."

You blushed, hiding your face into his chest now.

"Oh, stop it. I thought I looked funny. Lace isn't my thing if it's not on dresses."

"It really, really is. I think you should go put it on again, let me see it in daylight. In fact, that's what you're going to do, because you're my good girl, right?"

You shivered, lifting your head again. Mingi was in the mood, that much was obvious. But there was something in his eyes that told you it was more than just horny desire.

"I-I'll go put it on. Turn off my jam, don't let it burn!"

"Yes, ma'am." He laughed, pinching your ass cheek lightly, making you yelp as you walked away.

Mingi was left alone in the kitchen, stirring the pot with delicious homemade jam once more before turning off the stove and leaning against the counter.

His thoughts were filled with you, even when you were literally in the room next door. It was inevitable at this point. His day started with you wrapped in his embrace, sharing light kisses and meaningful words. It ended the same, but he loved indulging in your soft body after the long hours he spent away from you. Taking off your white and pink dresses, removing the bows and clips from your hair. It brought him peace, something he longed for ever since he was a rambunctious teenager. People tend to stare at the two of you when you walk down the street. They probably wonder what a lovely girl like you did with the dark giant. What they didn't know was that you, and Mingi, loved the differences you had. You had a strong man by your side, always ready to protect you and care for you. He had someone that listened to him after he got too into his own head to think straight, always there to ease his worries.

You two complimented each other more than others could see, and he always called you his little sanctuary.

His little, too sexy to be true, sanctuary.

"I'm ready for you, stud."

Mingi lifted his head, his breath getting caught in his throat. You were a dream come true, all wrapped up in white lace. It made him wonder what you would look like in another white ensemble, walking down a flower path to him.

"My, my... What a delight."

He came closer to you, making you walk back into the wall. His large form towered over your small one, crowding you in with his arms.

"Say, my little sugar plum, can I have a taste of you? I've been craving something sweet all day."

His lips brushed against yours as he spoke, one of his hands making its way down your body until it reached the edge of the lacy nightgown.

"Hm? Can I? You know I'm not a patient man."

You took a deep breath, placing your palms on his chest.

"Y-Yeah. Yes. Yes, you can."

"That's my girl."

With that, he slowly got down on his knees, lifting the edge of the flimsy fabric up.

You were in for a long night.

.

.

"Song Mingi, you look like you just won the lottery. You haven't stopped grinning since this morning. What's gotten into you?"

His best friend and trusted worker, Yunho, asked.

"Oh, nothing in particular."

He usually shared every detail of his life with Yunho, but he couldn't tell him about the way he enjoyed your body into the early morning hours. You went to work sleepy, but incredibly satisfied. The same thing applied to him. His greasy hands continued working on a broken car motor, the smile never leaving his face.

The day went by quickly, and before he knew it, you were entering the shop with your hands full of bags.

"Hey there boys, how's it going?"

"Y/N! Lovely to see you!" Yunho shouted from across the garage, walking over to you. You stood on your tip toes, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Likewise, Yunho. Now, where is my baby?"

You stepped around a giggling Yunho, walking over to your boyfriend.

"There you are! Look what I have!"

Mingi couldn't even get a word in before you started pulling out what seemed like fake flowers from your bags.

"The spring festival is coming up, so we're making flower crowns at the preschool. Your niece Jiwoo is coming to the workshop tomorrow as well."

"That's cool. But why did you bring all of this home?" He asked, trying not to dirty the flowers with his greasy hands.

"Well, I have to make a few crowns as an example, so I'll head upstairs to start. I'm so excited! I even bought a new dress to wear! I'll show you when you get done with work."

You leaned up to give him a quick kiss, grabbing your bags and heading towards the door.

"Bye boys, have a nice day!"

"Bye Y/N." Yunho waved, looking over at his friend. It was obvious Mingi was in love, but his next words shocked him a bit.

"Do you think getting married in a leather jacket is not acceptable?"

"What?" He asked, dumbfounded by the sudden question.

"I guess I'd have to suck it up and wear a suit. Damn it!"

Mingi started rambling quietly, turning around to continue working on the motor. Yunho stood frozen, realizing what his best friend had in mind.

"Hey, I better be the best man or I'm throwing a fit at your wedding."

He only got a chuckle in response.

.

.

The apartment was filled with a nice smell of Mingi's favorite dish. Another reason why he loved coming home to you. He mentally added that to another list of reasons, soon to be revealed.

"Mingi! Hurry up, I need your help!"

He took off him combat boots, hanging his jacket on the rack next to the front door. His feet took him to the living room, and he had to hide the huge grin behind his hand.

There you were, a colourful flower crown sitting on your head, surrounded by dozens of smaller crowns.

"I got a bit carried away." You laughed, folding another fake stem into the crown you were currently making.

"I can see that, sugar. What do you need me for?" He asked, sitting on the floor next to you. He stood out like a sore thumb, in all black next to the rainbow explosion in your living room.

"Well, I wanted to make one for you, too. But I need to measure your head first."

You took a measuring tape, not waiting for Mingi's response before wrapping it around his head.

"Okay, got it. Go eat while it's warm, I'll finish this one and then I'll be all done."

It was funny how you shooed him away, but Mingi only chuckled and went to do as he was told. You chatted with him while he ate, wanting to know how his day went. He heart softened, noticing how you listened carefully even with your hands full. You really cared for him, and Mingi was falling in love more and more as each second passed.

Without a second thought, he marched over to you again, sitting down and wrapping you into his arms.

"Hey there." You laughed, surprised by his sudden affection.

"Hey. Sorry, I can't seem to stay away from you lately."

"It's okay, I don't mind one bit. Here-" You turned around and straddled his strong thighs. There was a crown in your hands, a mixture of red and white flowers. You patted his hair, placing it on his head and arranging his bangs. Once you were satisfied, you placed a kiss on his nose and smiled.

"You look so pretty baby." You cooed, pinching one of his cheeks. Mingi blushed, flustered with your words. Usually it was the other way around, but Mingi realized the impact you had on him.

"Do you have any more flowers left?"

You nodded, motioning behind you.

"A bunch, look. There's tulips, lilies, daisies-"

"Give me a daisy."

You were a bit confused, but you reached over a picked a small one up. Handing it to Mingi, you watched as he twisted the wired stem around. He made a circle with it, with the daisy on top. It almost looked like a ring, but you he was just being silly, right?

"Y/N, you know how much I love you, right?"

You nodded, finding it difficult to form a sentence.

"You... You brought so much joy, so much colour into my life, I will forever be thankful. I know I'm not the most posh man you've ever met, but I'll try, for you. I'll even wear a suit to our wedding, I promise!"

He paused, realising what he'd just said. Your eyes widened, confused by his sudden confession.

"Mingi..."

"Oh crap, I can't even do this right." He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to get himself together.

"What I was trying to say is... Y/N, my sugar, will you marry me? Will you make my life even more colourful?"

He lifted the little flower ring up, holding it out to you so gently, with eyes full of adoration.

You smiled, your own filling with tears.

"Oh, Mingi... Of course I will marry you, you silly little man!"

There was no chance for him to say anything, because you smashed your lips onto his. Your teeth bumped, the kiss soon turning more passionate as his arms wrapped around your waist. Yours were holding onto his cheeks, trying to pull him as close as possible. You both smiled into the kiss, parting to look into each other's eyes. That's when you noticed the tears brimming in his.

"Here, sugar, you forgot your ring."

He took your hand, placing the little daisy ring around your finger. He kissed your hand, cradling it to his chest.

"I promise I'll buy you a real one tomorrow, this was kind of... Not planned."

You chuckled, kissing him again. "I can see that. Don't worry, this ring will do just fine."

"Y/N, love, you deserve one that will shine as bright as your eyes. But wear this one until then, the world needs to know you're mine."

You wrapped Mingi into a hug, his arms tightening around you. The two of you stayed like that for a while, with flower crowns surrounding you, the one on Mingi's head a bit crooked from all of the kissing.

.

.

"Dude, is that a new fashion trend? What's with the crown?"

Yunho chuckled, watching as his best friend moved around the shop in greasy overalls with a flower crown on top of his head.

"Y/N made it. We're going to the spring festival in a couple of days, I'm just getting into the mood."

Yunho nodded, hiding his grin behind his hand.

"Well, it suits you. It's surprising how much, actually."

"Yeah, you should see Y/N's. It suits the ring I got her this morning. You should take a look at it."

Yunho froze, watching as his best friend grinned, taking a little box out of his pocket.

"You... You're asking her to marry you?"

"Oh, I already did yesterday. It was kind of impulsive, I know, that's why I didn't have a ring ready. But Yunho... She's the one, man."

His best friend waked over to him, pulling Mingi into a hug.

"I know that. I knew it the first time you introduced her to us. The look on your face was all it took for me to figure it out."

"Am I that pathetic?" Mingi chuckled, handing the box over so that Yunho could see the ring.

"No, you're just in love."

The men smiled, watching as the little diamon ring with a daisy twinkled in the morning sunlight.

Mingi could only wonder how much it would shine once it was placed on your delicate finger.

It couldn't be brighter than your smile though, that's for sure.

.

.

[justasecretflower]

~🪻 sdv men as boyfriends headcanons ~

Incl- Alex, Elliot, Shane, Sam, Sebastian, Harvey, Willy, Gunther, M. Rasmodius (Wizard.)

You look lost, visit my garden?

Alex

- He’s the type that’ll make you become apart of his workout. Lemme explain..

- he kisses you in between every push-up and crunch.

- you sit on his back during pushups

- he sees how many times he can deadlift you. (It doesn’t matter what size you are, yes, he can deadlift you.)

- “babe” “baby” “sugar”

- D1 YAPPER.

- he’ll talk your ear off about his childhood, gridball, his feelings when he first met you.

- he’s GREAT to have conversations with because they keep going on for hours.

- when he cuddles you he like..crushes you. He always ends up snoring loudly, drooling on you, and his whole muscular body right on top of you.

- touchy touchy TOUCHYYY.

- he’s the type to run up to you and spin you around then hug you saying how much he missed you. Even if you’ve only been gone for like 5 minutes

- he doesn’t cry often, thinks it makes him weak, but the one day that you got him crying in your arms, your fingers in his hair and quietly whispering that it was okay, he literally fell in love again x2 harder.

Elliot

-…🙄

-CORNYYYYYY

- you alr saw that coming though.

- writes you poems and puts them under your pillow like a tooth fairy..

- he likes holding you. Makes him feel like he’s a protector.

- romantic home dinner dates with balloons, rose petals galore, candles, fancy table cloth, ect.

- love language is words of affirmation muahaha..

- “my love” “my dearest” “my darling”

- tells you everyday how much he loves you in old Shakespearen English

- slow dances in the living room with you.

Shane

- he’s really insecure and gets jealous easily.

- it’s like. You’re talented, hard working, beautiful, how could you ever like him?

- in his eyes, he was old, washed up, no longer a fit gridball player, alcoholic, suicidal.

- he distances himself from you whenever he has these episodes.

- it’s really bad, he knows, but he doesn’t want you to know how insecure and helpless he is.

- you do find out, and you hold him.

- his safe space, his savior, is you.

- he gets better for you, for himself, and for everyone around him and he constantly tells you how much you’ve saved him.

- “doll”

- he gets a new coat and has your initial on it with a heart (Marnie sewed it)

- DAD BOD.

- movie nights. Not those aesthetic ones. The messy ones.

- the ones where you have dirty plates on the floor, pizza rolls, a bag of candies in between you and popcorn on the couch.

- it’s comfy, and it’s fun either way.

Sam

- he’s so cute.

- “babe” “baby”

- DEFINITION of golden retriever bf

- skateboards over to your house.

- he gets cuteness agression😭.

- he just randomly, aggressively, nuzzles your shoulder, or pecks a thousand kisses all over your face.

- makes songs for you and sings them to you.

- his favorite place to kiss you is your shoulder. Not even sexually he just loves kissing your shoulder.

- teaches you how to skate so that you can skate with him.

- he’d def be that cliche that’s like. Tried to flirt with you by leaning on the doorway but missed the doorway💀 (SAME WITH ALEX)

- He likes skating dates, MESSY cooking dates, and playing just dance with you.

- owns an “I love my girlfriend” t-shirt and wears it all the time. No shame

Sebastian

- kisses the tips of your ears and nose.

- very soft and gentle kisses.

- black cat …muahahhaaha

- he likes to make bracelets with you!

- matching bracelets

- also, matching pjs

- movie nights are the best with him. Matching pjs, snacks, cuddles, the rain pattering in the background.

- he’s a listener, not a talker.

- he said he can listen to you talk for days.

- of course, he mumbled that while flushed but he still said it.

- you’re his comfort person.

- he gets insecure but he doesn’t project it on you, just gets extra clingy.

Harvey

- HARVEY!!!

- he gets flushed easily if you flirt with him.

- he goes on rambles about medical stuff and it just 😩

- takes care of you while you’re sick. Carries you to a bath with salts and bubbles in it, cuts up fruits, feeds you, helps you drink water, dab a cold rag on your forehead.

- he’s super romantic, makes you dinner sometimes and makes it healthy / canon

- kisses your forehead to get you to wake up in the morning.

- breakfast in bed on your anniversary.

- he’s a family man / canon

- give him a picket fence life /srs

- he likes kissing you deeply. Just pouring his whole heart into it.

Willy

- he likes fishing with you, if you don’t know how, he’ll stand behind you and guide you.

- “darlin” “hon” “pretty thing”

- puts your initial on his favorite fishing pool.

- he likes you sitting on his lap, just because he likes to be close to you.

- date nights on the beach, or on his fishing boat watching the stars together.

- OH GOSH THE QUIET MORNINGSSSS

- he gets up “bright and early” so he just holds you, whispers in your ear with a raspy morning voice, gently kissing your shoulder “g’mornin pretty thing”

- really values quality time, even if you’re not talking just sitting near him while he’s fishing.

- definitely thought he was gonna stay single until he died before he met you, like he wasn’t even being pessimistic, just thought that he wouldn’t find anyone in that small town.

Gunther

- I feel like he would’ve messed around when he was younger but never settled down.

- so when he moved to pelican town, he never expected to meet someone that would make him wanna be all lovey dovey and stuff.

- teaches you about history. His head in your lap, hand up to your cheek gently stroking it with the pad of his thumb as he yaps on, with a deep, smooth voice.

- remembers everything about you. Every detail even if you were just mentioning it in passing.

- “hon” “my darling” “love”

- date nights are those little missing persons cases (the fake ones), discussing history under a willow tree, taking small naps intertwined I

- prolly has a kid from a hookup…sorry?!

- not much for physical affection, but he’ll indulge a little, hand holds, cheek kisses, kisses.

- his love language is acts of service 100%.

M. Rasmodius Wizard

- he kinda watches you with his magic..not creepily !!

- stops you from falling all the time.

- “my love” “dearest”

- not touchy, but shows his love for you with actions.

- gifts you flowers, makes you food, cleans your room for you.

- fine..he’ll go to the flower dance for you.

- he’ll just end up dragging you to a secluded area to do the dance tho.

- it’s kinda cute ngl.

Tags

[gracie-eilish]

My Valentine💝

an: i have long nails on again so pls excuse any typos…. typing is hard😭

The scent of roses fills Billie’s place the moment you step inside, the warm glow of candles flickering across the walls. Soft music plays in the background—something romantic but unmistakably her, a perfect blend of dreamy and intimate. You barely have time to take in the cozy, love-filled atmosphere before Billie appears from around the corner, her face lighting up like you’re the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

“There’s my Valentine,” she purrs, already making her way toward you with that signature cheeky grin. She’s wearing an oversized sweater—your favorite one on her, of course—and a pair of cozy sweatpants, but somehow she still looks like she belongs on the cover of a magazine.

You smile, setting your bag down just as she throws her arms around your neck, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek before pulling back slightly to study your face. “Happy Valentine’s Day, angel,” she murmurs, her hands sliding down your arms before intertwining your fingers with hers.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you reply, squeezing her hands. “This all looks amazing.”

She shrugs, but the glint in her eyes betrays her pride. “Only the best for my girl.”

Before you can reply, she’s tugging you further inside, leading you to the living room, where a blanket fort—yes, a full-on blanket fort—is set up in the middle of the room. Fairy lights are strung up along the edges, twinkling softly, and inside, a mountain of pillows and blankets makes it look like the coziest, dreamiest hideaway imaginable.

You laugh, eyes wide with delight. “Billie, did you make a whole pillow fort for us?”

She grins, guiding you down onto the soft pile of blankets. “Obviously. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t give my Valentine the cutest, coziest setup for our big romantic night?”

You shake your head, beaming as you settle in beside her. “You are ridiculous.”

She smirks, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before nuzzling into you. “Ridiculously in love with you, maybe.”

Your heart does a little flip, but before you can get too flustered, she’s already reaching for a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries sitting nearby. She picks one up and holds it near your lips, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Open up mama,’” she teases, barely suppressing a giggle.

You play along, opening your mouth just as she slowly—painfully slowly—brings the strawberry to your lips. But just as you’re about to take a bite, she pulls it away at the last second, grinning wickedly.

“Billie!” you protest, swatting at her playfully.

She laughs, delighted by her own antics. “Okay, okay, I’ll be nice,” she concedes, finally feeding you the strawberry properly. She watches you with amusement as you chew, eyes flicking down to your lips before she leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth, humming. “Mmm. Even sweeter on you.”

Your face burns at the compliment, and she lives for it, giggling as she pops a strawberry into her own mouth. “You’re really laying it on thick tonight,” you say, raising a brow at her.

She shrugs, all faux innocence. “What, I can’t shamelessly hype up my beautiful girlfriend on the most romantic day of the year?”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “You always hype me up.”

She gasps dramatically. “And I’ll never stop. Not when my girl is the most stunning, incredible, talented human being to ever exist.”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “You are so extra.”

She giggles, prying your hands away so she can pepper your face with kisses—cheeks, nose, forehead, lips—until you’re breathless from laughing. “But you love it,” she teases, her voice softer now, eyes full of adoration.

You meet her gaze, and suddenly, the playful energy shifts into something quieter, more tender. The air between you hums with warmth, and Billie reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before resting her hand on your cheek.

“I mean it,” she murmurs, her thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin. “I love you. So much. And I just… I want you to feel that. Every second of today. Every second of every day.”

Your breath catches, heart swelling at the sincerity in her voice. You cup her face in your hands, mirroring her touch, and smile softly. “I do feel it, Billie,” you whisper. “Every day. You make sure of that.”

She exhales a happy sigh, her forehead dropping against yours. “Good,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against yours in the softest, sweetest kiss.

The rest of the night is a blur of warmth and laughter, of stolen kisses and whispered confessions. You curl up together in the fort, sharing chocolates and playing silly games, Billie making it her mission to make you blush at every opportunity.

At some point, she starts listing all the things she loves about you—your laugh, the way you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking, the way you look at her like she’s your whole world. And by the time the night winds down, and she’s lying half-asleep against your chest, her voice heavy with drowsy affection, you realize that this—this perfect, love-filled night—is all you could have ever wanted for Valentine’s Day.

And with Billie in your arms, pressing one last lazy kiss to your collarbone before whispering, “I love you, lovey,” you know you’ll remember this night forever.

[catssluvr]

𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒚, spencer reid

spencer x fem!reader

spencer likes you and your 'silly' books <3

warnings: r is insecure about her books?, r reads fantasy, so much fluff (usual)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You sat quietly on your assigned seat at the jet, book comfortably perched on your lap. It was usual for you to curl up on your seat and read on the way back, you made sure to keep a book inside your go bag.

Your go to was a good fantasy book, you found them helpful to get your mind off of work for a bit. You got to be on your own world, no real life worries.

It would be a lie to say it didn't feel quite silly sometimes. Every time your co-workers were holding a book it always felt like theirs was way more intellectual, while you were there reading books about 'fairies and magic'. You were necessarily reading about those but it sure felt as foolish as that.

It's probably why your seat was situated in the corner further way from everyone, or maybe you just liked your own company. You weren't sure.

A sudden movement beside you caused you to jump slightly, closing the book in front of you and covering most of it's cover with your hands.

"Sorry, i didn't mean to scare you." Spence. Your adorably sweet and nervous boyfriend. Your relationship was still fresh, what most would call the honey moon phase. You didn't think you ever wanted leave it. Only one month of being his girlfriend was enough to make you realize you wanted it for the rest of your life. Besides, he was your friend way before that.

"It's okay, Spence." You smiled at the way he was standing awkwardly, obviously meaning to ask you if he could sit down beside you. You pated the sit gently and that was all it took for him to jump next to you, shoulder purposely brushing against yours.

"What're you reading?" He eyed the book in your hands curiously.

"Oh- it's nothing, not really your type." You said.

"I'm sure it's interesting anyway, angel." He smiled softly, hand reaching out to rub your knee in a comforting way.

"It's silly..." You mumbled, but your hands moved away from the book, letting him have a full view of it.

"What's there to be silly about it?" His eyebrows furrowed in pure confusion, fingers interlocking with yours and gently squeezing your hand.

"Spencer. You read classics in russian, that sure as hell is way more educational than this." You pointed out.

"Do you really think that matters to me?" He asked, doe eyes refusing to break contact with yours.

"Well- no? I guess i just started to overthink." You scrunched your nose in embarrassment.

"I think you should read whatever you find interesting. Besides, there's really nothing silly about them." He was nothing but sincere, lips meeting your cheek for a quick kiss.

"I'm sorry." You smiled shyly, head dropping to his shoulder in hopes of hiding your warm cheeks.

"No need to." His arm swiftly wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you to lean against him. "Can i read with you? Didn't bring any books with me." It was a white lie, but he really did want to learn more about your interests. And if that included getting to cuddle up with you, he would do it in a heartbeat.

"'Course" You pulled your legs up to his lap, cheek smudged against his shoulder as you opened your book. His other hand reached to grab your calf, squeezing it before settling there.

"For the record, your silly books make me like you even more." He joked but somehow you knew he meant it.

"I like you too, Spence. Lots." You pressed a lingering kiss to his neck, not missing the way he shivered at the touch before returning to your previous position.

Sharing your own little world with him didn't feel like such a bad idea.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

a/n: so tiny but i enjoyed writing it sm <33 for all of my fantasy readers out there

love you,

cat 🤍

[acynicalsweetheart]

DDLG hcs with dad curly ? similar to your faux innocence work, but your thoughts/hcs you’d have for that type of scenario? :3

hai unfortunately came to the conclusion that i suck at hcs but tried my best LOL… got a little long apologies

content warning: 18+, dead dove do not eat, daddy-daughter incest, ddlg, praise, faux innocence sort of

dad!curly is a dope and a total sap who’s well aware of you being past a little girl by now—but that doesn’t mean that he’s ready to let you grow up. not when… 

dad!curly has been too busy with work your entire life, spending his time in and out of space with little time to tend to you the way he should’ve. now that he’s retired from his position, left behind the ludicrous fiasco that is pony express, he can finally be your full time dad… and daddy :3

dad!curly barely recognises you, prancing around with those things on your chest, in clothes clinging to your body tighter than vacuum packing. it all happened so fast. he knew you’d be older, matured, independent and that makes his stomach sink. 

what if you don’t need him anymore? 

dad!curly feels dumb having bought you teddy bears as a gift, yet you hug him ever so sweetly—thanking him and smacking your lips straight onto his cheek. you look at him the same, like nothing’s changed, like he’s been here all along. 

dad!curly doesn’t know how to get properly accustomed to you being all grown up now—luckily for him, you don’t seem to mind. you let curly treat you the way he should’ve all those years ago. it’s a coping method for the both of you. 

hold your hand? check. sleep in his bed? no problem. feed you? that’s a given. call him daddy? of course. read you bedtime stories? sure. plushies? boatloads. baby talk? you secretly love it. bathe you? you’d bite his fingers off like bunnies do carrots. 

dad!curly is fine with that, he doesn’t want to overstep his little girl’s boundaries. he quickly adjusts to the routine, probably ‘cause you’ve both already been through this before, it’s just like reliving a memory. 

dad!curly kisses you on the mouth and you don’t even flinch, they come as often as they do for boyfriends and girlfriends. him reading you fairy tales about princesses and their princes is nightly practice. you falling asleep on your daddy’s chest is as well. 

now…

dad!curly as we established, isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but does notice your thighs shifting every time he reads kissing scenes—you’re not exactly subtle with it. clenching them together like you’re trying to relieve an ache between them but don’t know how. 

dad!curly is conflicted, he just wants to help his princess, what kind of a daddy would he be to let you walk around that needy? he’d heard you struggling prior in your room, whining out of frustration ‘cause you just can’t get it right. poor baby. 

dad!curly sets the book aside, stroking your head and checking with you to assess the situation. what’s going on? where does it tingle? need daddy’s help? he bares you from the covers, feeling your body with large hands ever so tender like he doesn’t want to hurt you. 

dad!curly helps you get your panties off, a sticky string stubbornly stuck to the gusset as he pulls them down. you’re embarrassed at the sight, hiding your face in your hands. he thinks it’s cute, but wants you to look at him. 

dad!curly noses at your knuckles till you peek at him through the cracks of your fingers, keeping his gaze on yours. once you loosen up, he continues. 

dad!curly trails his calloused fingers up your thighs, holding you close as he makes contact with your swollen bud. you whimper and buck your hips up out of impatience, calling out for daddy as you blink up at him. 

“Shh, honey, just stay still. Daddy’s gonna help, okay?”

dad!curly resumes his touch after a nod of your head, rubbing soft and gentle circles on your clit till you’re squirming. your hole is leaking, crying out like it wants to be filled by something thick and long—much like that something thick and long curly’s got in his sweats. 

dad!curly is humble but aware that he’s much too big and would break you in half if he tried to fit inside his baby. he slides his hand down further instead, circling your entrance with his middle finger.

dad!curly lets you squeeze his other hand when he works his digit inside, lets you grip onto his shirt when he starts to carefully plunge in and out. your body’s tense but gradually unveils as curly’s fingers move against your spongy spot.

“That’s my good girl, taking daddy so well.”

dad!curly pecks your cheek, watching you come undone and shake in his arms. your legs clamp shut around his hand like a clamshell—moans and whines spilling out of you alongside your cum. 

“You did so good, honey. ‘M so proud of you.”

dad!curly murmurs into your hair, pulling out and collecting your slick onto his fingers so you can taste yourself. he lets you suck his digits clean, completely disregarding the stiffness painfully straining against the fabric of his pants when he grabs your face to kiss you. 

dad!curly can’t help but moan at the taste of his little girl on his tongue, horrifyingly close to cumming in his pants. but he sucks it up and helps you get your panties back on, lulls you to sleep on his chest with his sweet voice continuing the book of the fairy tale. 

[harmoonix]

🧚🏼‍♀️Fαιɾყƈσɾҽ🧚🏼‍♀️

*Unlock your inner fairy*

────────────────────────────────

Come away with me now to the sky

Up all the hills and the sea

Far beyond where memories lie

To a place where Im free to be me

────────────────────────────────

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Earth Risings (Capricorn, Taurus, Virgo) have that amazing personality thanks to their strong aura and energy. They're that chill yet wholesome person

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Midheaven in Fire Signs will mostly wanna have a job based on their desires and on what they truly want/desire from life

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Having your 4H in an earth sign it can indicate your home can be your biggest comfort, out of all the places

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Moon aspecting the Ascendant brings that type "serene" energy to the native, calm, peaceful, I love how they resemble those things

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Saturn aspecting Venus want a high standard relationship because for them loyalty and teamwork matters a lot in the relationship

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Pluto aspecting Sun/Moon/Ascendant can be judged for who their are, or heavy criticized, it's important to be you even if you have haters

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Moon in Gemini/Gemini Degrees 3°, 15°, 27° moon loves this energy of self - expressing, I always think about this placement as "life in colors"

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Neptune aspecting Mars will always have a fiery energy, is electrifying and yet charismatic, full of boosts of energy

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Juno aspecting the IC (4th house) will have that familiy oriented spouse, possibly someone who wants also to live a traditional marriage life

────────────────────────────────

Let the stars fill your soul, when the moon cradles all

So, to yourself be true

────────────────────────────────

🧚🏼‍♀️ - When you have your North Node in your 9H you gonna decide which faith you wanna follow, which religion, education, schools, you have free will in that area

🧚🏼‍♀️ - North Node in the 3rd/5th house gives you the chance to express yourself how you want, you achieve things in your life by being yourself

🧚🏼‍♀️ - When you have your Mars in your 3rd/6th or 8th house Mars will react either very energetic either very tired. It's important to keep a balance between how lazy you are and how productive you are

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Water Suns can easily attach emotionally by others, crying in the same time?? Girl yes! Telling your secrets to each other? Girl no! There always should be a boundary between you and your emotional side

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Neptune in the 2H/4H/9H/12H can come from a background with a spiritual family, like your family members can be into spirituality

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Mars/Pluto or Venus in the 5H get tempted easily, like their lust is overdosed here, take care at your temptations especially if you're in relationship

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Suns in the 12H can have a various impacts, on the good side this placement can help at growing spirituality and the bad side it is that it will make you to self - doubt a lot (You're worth it🫶🏼)

🧚🏼‍♀️ - I already said in numerous posts that Venus in Earth Signs men are gentlemen, like their aura is screaming that (GENTLEMAN/MY MAN) I'm looking at Taurus Venus while saying this ofc

🧚🏼‍♀️ - My Juno is in fucking Aquarius okay..so there was once an Aquarius Sun guy who saw me as his "relationship material" and I was like "Um nope" his Juno was in Capricorn while my Sun is in Capricorn and I had no like for him 😅🫶🏼

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Can we appreciate Capricorns for wanting to date older people so they don't have to suffocate themselves with the ones who have not matured at a certain time

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Cancer Moons will basically attach to your heart like a spider cloth, and it maybe devour it at some point. If you love them they gonna "devour" your love

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Moon in the 1st/3rd/5th/9th houses love to party and enjoy life, the soul of the party placement literally

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Juno in 2H/Juno in Taurus is giving spoiling spouse,girl "you wake up with 24k gold earrings beside your bed from your spouse"energy

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Aries/Scorpio and Sagittarius Mars are those bad bitches who nobody plays with like, they don't accept it

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Mars in the 11H or Mars in Aquarius can become quite obsessive/possesive around their friends but in the same time can have lots of conflicts with them because after all Mars is the planet of war

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Stellium or lots of placements in the 9th house can show love for traveling/exploring/ even learning new things

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Stellium in the 5th house or in Leo can indicate a lot creativity, a very talented person, can indicate you love being yourself as well

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Juno in the 11H or in Aquarius can indicate your husband will for sure be one of your closest friends

🧚🏼‍♀️ - If someone has Pluto - Sun aspects you can tell they can be misunderstood a lot, is hard to fit in the norm if you're just trying to make a difference

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Aquarius Suns and Risings are different from their family members or relatives, like when you go for example and visit their family, these natives will always stand out of them

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Sun in your 6H/12H can make you just tired or drained easily, try to not force yourself to do certain things if you don't really want that

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Mars in the 1H/Aries Mars is an icon placement, it shows a lot of motivation and energy towards the things you wanna do in your life

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Jupiter conjunct/trine/sextile Mars makes you extremely ambitious, very desirable, and you can actually manifest things so fast with these placements

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Venus aspecting the Midheaven (in good aspects) can be appreciated at their work for their personality/aura/vibe

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Having more Cardinal Signs in your chart than others (Aries, Cancer, Libra, Capricorn) shows you're not afraid of change, sudden changes, you're ready for everything that comes in your life

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Chiron aspecting Ascendant (all aspects) can indicate a very big journey when it comes to self - discovering and healing yourself!! Your healing era is precious

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Having your 8H in a fire sign shows a person who is very sensual/passionate/has lot of desires and lots of naughty thoughts

🧚🏼‍♀️ - When you and a person share the same Lilith sign, you can both understand eachother on a psychic level, you can also tell which bad traits you have to eachother

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Pisces Saturn has a lesson about becoming more spiritual and finding your inner faith in a way, being more connected with yourself

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Sun/Lilith or Saturn in the 10H can have really big issues with their dads, the dad can be controlling/strict or just mean with some of these placements

🧚🏼‍♀️ - Chiron in the 2H can also be about being more healthy in your diet, like eating more healthy food and keep a balance in your body

~ Bad bitches grew up with Tinkerbell 🧚🏼‍♀️🫶🏼 ~

[trumpkinhotboy]

honeymoon | j.b

pairing. jacob black x reader

type. requested (thank youu)

warnings. none

word count. ~ 2000

a/n. i just had a twilight marathon and uhm yeah 🧍‍♀️ my obsession with jacob black and this whole universe is very much so still alive lmao. got this request and it made me want to scream and cry and throw up because can you imagine marrying him??? RAAAH anyway, hope you all will like this mwah xx

Ever since you said I do to the love of your life, a permanent smile illuminated your face. So much so that your cheek muscles felt sore but you wouldn't trade that pain for anything else in the world.

The reception had been everything you could have ever wished for. It was intimate, only your families had been invited, people from the tribe and a few friends. You had the wedding on the reservation, and Emily made sure the whole setup had been turned into a magical fairy ambiance and you danced the night away surrounded by your loved ones. Jacob seemed on top of the world, his eyes never leaving your face, pure adoration shining in them. When the night came to a close, your excitement only grew as you headed to your own little home. It was a project you had been working on all summer. A quaint house, built in the woods of the reservation, close to your family. It was the house of your dreams and your heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of it and the future it promised you. Jacob carried you in his arms from the party, bridal style, insisting on holding up with the tradition. You crossed the threshold and stared adoringly at the scene in front of your eyes. Your friends had decorated the whole house with flowers and little presents to make sure you would feel all their love and happiness for your union.

You looked at the man holding you up like you weighed nothing, his eyes already locked on your face. The softness and intensity in his gaze made your organs quiver. "Aren’t you going to put me down?" you asked quietly.

"I'm not quite ready to let go yet," he murmured with a little grin.

"We’re married now, I really can’t escape you anymore, you know," you teased but felt his hands imperceptibly tighten on your body at your words. You smiled softly, lifting your hand to cup his warm cheek. "Not that I would ever want to." He nodded before you brought your lips to his, unable to wait any longer. You melted into him, feeling his grip tighten as you deepened the kiss while your breaths synced perfectly. You felt him start to move and hoped he would bring you to the room of your desire. When you heard the door of your bedroom open and felt him sit on the bed, you smiled in the kiss. Softly he pulled away, his breath ragged and fast.

"You okay there hubby?" he nodded with his eyelids shut tight, as if he was trying hard to focus. "Jacob, look at me." He finally opened his eyes and what you saw in them wasn’t what you expected. Fear and uncertainty tainted his gaze. In a heartbeat worry replaced your prior elation. You wiggled in his arms until you were sitting on him, straddling his legs with your wedding dress trailing down. "Is everything okay? Are- are you happy?”

The twinge of uncertainty in your voice seemed to shake him out of his previous state. "Of course I am." He trailed his hands up your arms in a reassuring motion.

"Then what’s going on?"

"I can’t believe this is real. I’m still not grasping the reality of it, I think." Your hand wandered in his short hair, softly pulling at strands of it. "But it is real," you insisted.

"I know, but this is all I've ever wanted. Never in my deepest dreams have I ever thought I could get this, that I could get you."

Ever since Jacob and you started going out he had trouble believing any of it was real. You didn't mind, you would tell and show him over and over again how much you loved him. Even if you didn't think he would still doubt your feelings or the depth of your relationship on your wedding night, you understood what he meant. Even you felt that 'pinch me' urge a few times in the night. "I’ve been in love with you since I was old enough to know what being in love means. I also have a hard time believing this is real. But it is Jake, we have our whole lives in front of ourselves and I can’t wait to do it all with you by my side."

This time he initiated the kiss, his strong hands applying soft pressure on your shoulder blades to bring you as close as possible to his body. You felt his hand on the zipper of your dress and shivered at the thought of him undoing it but he waited and looked at you for a second before you nodded your agreement. Softly, he untied your dress. You stood as he helped you step out of it, leaving you in nothing but your white lace underdress. With his eyes glued to your body, he sat there motionless. You giggled and stepped between his legs to slowly undo the bow at his neck. Once that was done, you unbuttoned his shirt, loving the way his breath accelerated with every touch of your fingers on his tan skin. You softly kissed his neck and chest as you pulled the shirt from his body, feeling your core tighten at the sight of his muscular body. You wished to kiss every inch of his plush skin and promised yourself you’d get to do it.

"I- I've never done this you know."

You stopped to look at him, "Me neither but we can figure it out together."

He nodded at that, his hand trailing the curve of your back. "Are you scared I'm going to hurt you?" He stopped the movement to bring his hands palms up on his thighs. You slid your smaller ones in his. You always loved Jacob's hands. They were strong, diligent hands. Yes, they were able to break and hurt things if needed, but these were also soft and delicate hands able to give the warmest caresses and hugs.

"Not even a little bit." Bringing one hand to rest on your cheek, the other to your mouth, you closed your eyes and rested in the warmth they diffused. Jacob was completely silent, hypnotized by the frenzy every touch from you started in his body. "We'll guide each other, okay?"

"We can do that,” he agreed in a hushed voice.

Big hands slid down to grip the back of your thighs, bringing your chest flush to his titled up face.

One kiss on your sternum, another on your ribs, another on your belly. Shivers danced on your skin, head lolling back as you surrendered to his touch.

[entertainment]

Vico Ortiz

Posters on your wall growing up: Star Wars and dragons. When I was a teenager, I actually drew flowers on my walls. I made a whole little flower bed around my room. It was really sweet.

Food fight food: Something that's not going to turn me into a murderer. A banana, maybe, or a plantain. 

High school fashion statement: I wasn't big with fashion when I was in high school. When I was in high school, I was not really sure who I was. I was trying to figure out how do I fit in, and I was trying to follow like what I was supposed to look like or what was like society telling me. For the longest time, I kind of felt like things never really fit right. Things for either too tight or too loose. And it never really felt right. It wasn't until my twenties and I was like, “Oh, okay, this feels like a bit more aligned with myself.” If you see photos of me in high school, there's a lot of like baggy shirts and baggy jeans.

What would teenage Vico-Con include: A lot of dragons. A hyperfixation on swords and lightsabers.  I actually had a journal that I doodled all the different types of lightsaber handles from all the different Star Wars characters, and then I could mash up the storylines.  Star Wars, dragons, fairies, elves, and magic. I love magic. Magic in general. And swords, just like, sharp objects.

📸: Rob Douthat

Check out more of Vico's interview, and the rest of the NYCC Yearbook, if you want!

[luvyeni]

❛TWO PLUS ONE❜ ( l.minho & h.jisung )

p. bestfriend!minsung x fem!reader w. 4.5k+

warnings? threesome, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, mxm moments, alludes to a poly relationship

— 𖦹 ( both you and your boyfriend are crushing on his long time friend, so why not add him ) !

“You ready?” you boyfriend asked, you both were sitting outside the house of one of his best friends, you fixed your lipgloss, turning to him. “You sure this is the right place to meet them, I mean this is your friends celebration party – is now the right time to introduce me to them?”

You and lee know had been dating for about a year, when he decided it was time to meet his friends. “Of course, Felix wouldn’t mind, he’s been the main one asking to meet you, well besides jisung.”

Ah jisung, you’ve heard about jisung more than any of the others — he was your boyfriend's closest friend. “Jisung has been waiting to meet you since we’ve started dating.”

“I promise babydoll, if I didn’t think they didn’t want you here I would have bought you.” He reassured, you nodded. “Okay, let’s go, i’m ready.” He reaches over, giving you a kiss. “Good girl, if you’re good tonight i’ll eat that pretty pussy of yours until you’re begging me to stop.” You smiled, “Deal.”

You guys walk up to the door, his hand resting on your lower back, knocking on the door. “Jisung is gonna love you I swear.” You laugh, “I feel like you just wanted me to meet jisung.” He hummed, “besides you, he’s the most important person in my life.” You nodded, as the door swung open.

“Hyung, you’re here!” A blonde hair fairy opened the door — he was gorgeous, “And this must be y/n?” He held his arms out. “You’re even more gorgeous in person.” He pulled you into a hug. “Be calm Felix, before changbin gets all jealous.” Minho guided you into the house. “Please, he gets jealous over any little thing, i’m used to it.” You laughed. “Sounds like you.” Your boyfriend pinched your side, “Because you’re mine.”

“Just like changbin, mine mine mine, like give it a rest.” He guided you both through the party, to the kitchen. “Well make yourself a home, drinks are self-served, I have to go greet more guest, and make sure changbin isn’t somewhere strangling seungmin.” He excused himself before leave.

After pouring you both some drinks, lee know guided you through the crowds of people, “let’s go find my friends.”

After looking for a few minutes, you seen him smile. “There they are, let’s go.” He held your hand, and you both walked over to the group. “There he is!” The one you knew as chan beamed. “And look who he bought.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to you both, mostly you. “You must be yn?” You nodded, holding your hands out. “Hello.” You smiled, “Oh please, we’ve been waiting forever to meet you, come here.” He pulled you into a hug.

“Baby you know their names; that’s chan — of course you met Felix and that’s changbin, hyunjin and seungmin.” He pointed them out, “And that’s jeongin, our maknae.” He introduced them, you waved. “It’s nice to meet you everyone.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, you’re always the topic of our conversation with minho, so it nice to finally put a face to the name.” You turned to your boyfriend. “Don’t act so smug, you know how obsessed I am with you.”

“Obsess isn’t the word, I haven’t heard him talk about anyone like that before.” Seungmin said, “Well beside jisung.” You hummed. “I’ve heard so much about this jisung, is he here — I would love to finally meet him.” You spoke. “He just went to the bathroom; he should be here soon.”

As if on cue, a boy came jogging over. “The long was so long.” You watched your boyfriends' eyes light up — much how they did with you. “Hannie-ah.” Your boyfriend called. “Hyung, w-when you get here?” He was cute, his chubby cheek, lips in a permanent pout — if you weren’t in a relationship with your boyfriend, he’d definitely be your type.

“A few minutes ago.” Your boyfriend said. “And he bought yn.” His eyes drifted to you — you swore you saw them widen just a bit before returning to normal. “y-yn?”

Jisung didn’t mean to be so surprised — but you really were as gorgeous as minho had said, he seen pictures of his of course, but you are even more beautiful in person. “It’s finally nice to meet you.” You pulled him into hug.

“Oh my god, is this what lino hyungs’ wet dreams look like.” Felix quickly slapped his boyfriend's chest; you laughed pulling away. “Please excuse him, he’s drunk.” You held your hand up. “It’s fine.” You spoke, turning back to jisung. “I understand why he talks and him so much, he’s adorable.” Jisung’s face turned red at the unexpected compliment.

“Wow only jisung could have both the girlfriend and the boyfriend be equally as fond for him.” Jisung coughed awkwardly. “T-thank you.” You nodded, turning to your boyfriend, “I’m gonna go get another drink.”

“I‘ll go get it baby.” You shook your head, “stay and talk to your friends, I can go get my own drink — do you want something.” He shook his head no. “Jisung, you want something?” His eyes cutely widened. “Me?” He pointed to himself. “Yes, you’re the only one without a drink.”

“S-sure, if that’s okay with you.” You nodded. “Coming right up.” You said, untangling your arms from lino. “I’ll come with you; someone here needs some water.” Felix climbed off of changbins’ lap, following behind you, both of holding on to each other as you shuffled away from the group.

“Your girlfriend is amazing, never break up.” Seungmin spoke up, lino sat down on the couch. “She is amazing, the best thing that has happened to me in a while.” Lino eyed jisung who sat on the arm of the couch, who seemed to be in his own world.

“I’m so surprised that you and lino got together.” Felix said, You both stood in the kitchen gossiping. “We all genuinely thought he’d end up with jisung.” You tilted your head in confusion. “Oh my, did you not know he was bisexual?” his eyes widened, slapping his mouth. “I talk to much.” He whined.

You laughed, stopping him, “Of course I know, that was the first thing he told me when we got together.” He sighed in relief, handing you a drink. “But I didn’t know he and jisung used to date.”

“Oh, I don’t think they officially did, but it was so obvious they were more than friends, they were like soulmates.” He said, you nodded along, listening. “They did everything together — still do, well when he’s not with you of course.”

Oddly enough, you weren’t jealous upon hearing this — it was actually cute that your boyfriend had someone like jisung in his life before you — you remember your boyfriend telling you all the stuff they did together in college, and it seem like they had a lot of fun together. “Do you know know why they didn’t end up together.”

Felix shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “I don’t actually, I think they just decided to stay friends.” He explained, “Then he met you.”

You guys made your way back to the group, holding your drinks. “Here you go jisung.” He took the drink from the hand. “Th-thank you.” You nodded, sitting down in lino’s lap. “What took you guys so long?” He pouted, “I missed you.” You kissed his lips. “Just having a chat, learned so much.” You said, your eyes drifting to jisung, who was already staring at you two. You smiled at him, he quickly turned away — looking into his drink like it was important.

“Yeah?” He kissed your neck, you chuckled at his nose tickling you. “Like what?” He smirked. “That’s a secret baby.” You said said. “We don’t have secrets baby you know that.” Felix spoke up, cradling a drunk changbin in his arms, feeding him water. “Ah lino hyung, mind your business.”

“Yah Lee Felix, don’t try and turn my girlfriend on me.” He shouted; you grabbed his cheek. “It was nothing baby I promise.” You kissed him again. “Oh my god you two are so cute.” Hyunjin cooed, you smiled taking another sip of your drink.

The party was ending, people slowly leaving one by one. “I’m glad everyone could make it.” He held changbin up, “And yn it was nice to meet you, you have to get my number from lino so we can get coffee together.” You nodded, standing up.

“You ready baby?” Lino nodded, standing up. “Yeah, just let me go say bye to jisung, he’s talking to chan over there.” He said, “I’ll come with you — it was nice to meet you guys.” You waved, intertwining your hands with lino; both of you walked over to the boy.

Chan excused himself, claiming he had to go work on a song, leaving you both with jisung. “You have a way home jisung?” Lino asked, the boy nodded. “Y-yeah hyung, seungmin is gonna drive me home.”

“It was to meet you yn.” He said, you pulled him into a hug. “You too jisung, I hope we can meet each other again, maybe in a calmer setting.” Lino smiled at the interaction. “S-sure okay.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend. “I’ll call you.” He grabbed the boys' arm, before walking away with you.

The ride back home was short, both of you making small conversation — you told him about all the drama you got from the women at the party, his hand resting on your thigh as he drove.

That all switched up as soon as you stepped foot in the apartment, his lips were on your neck, and you soon found yourself being pressed against the bed as your boyfriend buried his face in your cunt.

“Fu-fuck lino, more.” You moaned grabbing his hair, pushing him deeper into your sopping heat. “Fu-fuck, fuck i’m i’m gonna cum baby.” You screamed. “Fuck! i’m gonna cum!”

Your cunt clenched around his tongue, cumming all over his face. “Shit.” You breathed, coming down from your high. “That felt so good.” He came up from between your legs, kissing your lips. “Told you, I could spend hours eating your pretty pussy.”

“So did you like my friends.” Lino asked, you hummed. “Of course, they’re really nice, especially Felix, he wants to have coffee this week.” Lino nodded, “That’s good, i’m glad you’re getting along with them.”

“And jisung?” He said, “How did you feel about him?” You look up at him. “He’s cute — a little quiet, I wish I could speak to him more.” You said, he smiled. “You and jisung seem to be really close.” You said, rubbing his chest. “Yeah, since college.”

“Have you guys ever done anything together?” You wanted to see if he would lie. “Why do you ask that?” His eyebrow quirked up. “Mmm I don’t know, just a question.” He could tell when you were lying. “Baby, did Felix tell you something?” You smiled cheekily realizing you’d been caught.

“Is that what you guys were talking about? If me and jisung fucked?” You pouted at his crude language. “Don’t say it like that.” He laughed, “We’ll did you?”

“Yeah, we did a few times.” He said, “when?” You questioned. “A few times in college, a couple times before I met you.” He said, smirking. “Why you jealous baby?” you slapped his chest. “That’s you who’s always jealous.” You said.

“Besides, jisung is cute, if we weren’t together i’d definitely fuck him.” That made his cock twitch for some reason. “R-really?” he cleared his throat. “Yes, why would i lie, I would definitely take care of him though.” God that was turning him on hearing you say that.

In all honestly lino often thought about his time with jisung, no he’d never cheat on you — he loved you with all his heart, but jisung, jisung was something special to him. he’d often thought about what it would be like if he was in a relationship with you, but also jisung — waking up with both of you, dates and everything, but he never brought it up, scared you think he was gonna cheat.

“Lino, you okay?” you asked noticing he suddenly went quiet. “Huh?” he said. “I asked were you okay?” He nodded. “I’m fine, just thinking.”

“You wanna fuck jisung?” You asked abruptly, you could see something in his eyes, the way he looked at jisung — it didn’t make you mad, it actually turned you on a bit. “Baby.” You sat up, turning to him. “It’s fine if you do.” His mouth hung open. “Are you saying that just because you want to please me, because mph—” you hushed him up with a kiss.

“I see how you look at jisung, you look at me the same way.” You said, “I think it’s cute, I think you guy’s relationship is cute.” You confessed. “Baby, seems like you have a little crush on jisungie too.” You smiled, shrugging — maybe you did, maybe you just wanted to fuck him, you didn’t know, but you definitely did feel your heart pitter a little when you met the boy.

“He’s cute.” You smiled, “I just want to take care of him I don’t know.” He smiled. “You think he’d be down?” You asked, your boyfriend furrowed his eyes. “Be down to what? Fuck or date us?” He questioned. “Well, I know I definitely want to fuck him, but I would also want to try and date him, if that’s okay with you.”

He felt like he was dreaming, you were quite literally bringing his fantasy to life. “I need you to totally sure you want that, we’re talking about adding someone else into our relationship, I like jisung very much, but if you don’t want to, I won’t force you.” You straddled his lap. “I want to.” You said, “I want to so bad.”

He smiled, grabbing the back of your neck pulling you into a heated kiss. “I’ll talk to him about it.” He toyed with your bottom lip. “I’ll invite him over and we can talk about it together.” He said. “Fantastic.” You beamed. “Now.” You slowly rocked your hips. “I want you to fuck me.”

He flipped you over, hovering above. “Did thinking about fucking jisung make you horny.” You bit your lip, nodding. “Nasty baby, I didn’t even ask him yet and your already soaked for him.” He toyed with your clit. “Please fuck me.” You moaned out.

“Gladly baby.”

“Is he almost here yet?” You asked your boyfriend, he chuckled pulling you into his lap. “Calm down baby, he’s on his way — you’ve never been this excited to see me.” You pouted. “Don’t lie.”

You and your boyfriend took a week to actually think about it and talk it through — this was a big decision, and someone else’s emotions were involved so you wanted to make sure you wanted it for real. “i’m just nervous, what if he doesn’t want to?”

“Should we find someone else then?” You shook your head no. “I want him and you only.” You said, he nodded patting your thigh. “Oh he’s definitely gonna love you, baby.” He kissed your cheek, just as the doorbell rang, making you hop up. “He’s here.” He laughed, tapping your butt. “Calm down, go answer the door.”

You opened the door, revealing the the boy, dressed in a oversized sweatshirt and some cargo pants with a beanie. “O-oh hi yn.” He stuttered. “Is lino hyung here.” He seemed so nervous; it just made you want to wrap your arms and comfort him. “Come in han-ah.” Lino called from the living room. You stepped to the side, letting him in.

You made some snacks, bringing them into the living-room. “Thank you, baby.” You sat down in lap. “No problem.” Jisung shuffled in his seat. “How have you been jisung?” You asked, he sat up straight, you smiled. “O-oh i’be been good.” You nodded, “Have you worked on any songs, lino told me you’re a producer.” He nodded, eyes lightening up. “Yeah a few.”

“That’s cool, maybe one day I could hear a few.” You said, “Really?” He said. “Of course, yn is a music executive at a company, she’s really good at her job.” You smiled at the praise from your boyfriend. “I could help you, give one of your songs to the higher ups of you want.” His eyes widened. “You would?”

“Of course, lino says you’re really talented, if it’s good, they’ll definitely take it.” He smiled; it felt the first time you met lino — yeah you definitely did like him like you liked lino. “Thank you yn, thank you so much.”

You left them to talk freely, going back to your room, to do some work on your computer, while they stayed in the living room. “She’s like a dream isn’t she?” Lino said, jisung nodded. “Sh-she’s really nice, I see why you like her.”

“I told her about us — well Felix did.” Lino said, jisung picked at his fingers. “H-he did, why? The boy questioned. “I don’t know, she wasn’t mad or anything.” The boy sighed of relief. “That’s good, I would hate it if I made her upset or feel jealous.” He spoke.

“In fact, she found it cute.” Lino said, “She didn’t mind at all, I think she might have a little crush on you.” He smirked, watching the boy freeze. “M-me? But she has you.” He said. “I don’t mind it, han-ah you know how I feel about you.”

Jisung shuffled in his seat, why was he telling him this — right before lino announced that he entered a relationship with you, jisung had contemplated if he should confess to the older boy, but atlas, he was too late. Jisung never got over his crush on the boy, but he would never disrespect you like that. “Jisung you know I like you right?”

“H-hyung, you have yn, why are you telling me this.” He said. “Because she likes you too.” He was confused. “Wh-what?”

“She’s been talking about you since the party, it’s cute actually — watching her go on and on.”

“Wh-what does this mean?” He asked, “Well that’s up to you.” Lino responded. “What do you mean, like being in a relationship with you both?” Jisung asked, the older boy shrugged. “If you wanted to.”

This was a lot for the boy to take in, you really like him — and wanted him to be in a relationship with you and lino. “Why me?” He said. “She thinks you’re cute, she doesn’t want anyone else.” Lino said. “Only wants to take care of you sung.” The older boy, got up sitting next to him. “Doesn’t that sound like me, maybe that’s why we work so well.”

Lino put his hand on the boy's thigh. “Both just want to take care of you.” His hand reached higher and higher — jisung gulped, his cock twitched. “I-is she okay with this?” Lino hummed before dipping into the boys' necks, kissing him lightly. “H-hyung.” The boy sighed. “Is this what you want sung? You want us to take care of you?” Lino palmed the boy through his hands, the boy moaned, his cock hardening.

“S-she’s in the room.” He said, “You want go to her?” Lino asked. “S-she’s busy.” Lino laughed. “She’ll stop for this; I know she will.” He pulled away from the boy. “Come on.”

You rubbed your temples, hitting send on the last email you had to send. “Finally.” You sighed — the door opening. “Baby?” Lino said. “You busy?”

“I’m done now, I just sent in the last email.” You said. “See I told you, she isn’t busy, jisung was scared we’d bother you.” Your boyfriend had that look in his eye. “Did he say yes?” You asked, they both walked into the room, jisung was much more reserved. “of course, he did baby, nobody could resist you.”

You turned to jisung, “are you sure you want this jisung?” You sat down next to him. “I really want this to be something we all enjoy, we all know he will.” You point to your boyfriend, who was already laying on the bed. “And I want you feel comfortable.”

He nodded shyly, “I-i do.” You smiled, bringing your hand to his cheek, caressing it, he melted into your touch. “So cute.” You pulled him into a kiss.

Lino watched you two make out at the door of his bed, it was surely a sight — watching you lead jisung, normally it was him who led you during sex, but it was sexy watching you take over — not that he’d ever allow you to do such thing to him.

“That’s enough both of you.” He instructed, you both whined, pulling away from each other. “Look at the both of you, panting and all worked up over a kiss.” He smirked. “Come up here now.” You both climbed up to where he was, you sat on your knees. “Fuck what am I gonna do with both of you?” he felt like a kid in a candy store.

“Take your clothes off.” Both of you were quick to stand up — riding yourself of your clothing, climbing back on the bed. “princess didn’t you say you want to take care of hannie here, how about you wrap your pretty lips around his cock?” You smirked, climbing in between his legs.

“Take out his cock pretty.” You obeyed, reaching for his waistband, pulling them down past his waist, his cock sprung out, hitting his abdomen, dripping with pre-cum. “Such a pretty cock.” You grabbed the base of his cock, kissing his tip. “She gave you a compliment baby boy.” Your cunt clenched at your boyfriends words. “Say thank you.”

“Th-thank you.” He stuttered, “good boy, take him all the way baby, make him feel good.” You relaxed your jaw, allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat. “F-fuck.” Jisung cursed. “F-feels good.”

You bobbed your head up and down, occasionally gagging on his length. “Oh my god.” He gasped, feeling himself about to cum. “You gonna cum?” Lino kissed the boys' neck, “You gotta hold it sung.”Lino knew he could barely hold it, he was aware of how sensitive he was.

You looked up at them through your lashes, the sight made you moan, lino’s mouth against jisung, holding the back of his neck. You took him all the way one last time, before he moaned out, cumming into your mouth, you pulled off of his cock, some of his cum staining your cheeks. “You came so much sungie.”

He moaned, pulling away from lino. “I-i’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cum.” Lino scoffed. “Of course, you did, you’re a needy slut who only loves to cum.” His cock twitched in your hands at your boyfriends' words. “He likes that min.”

“I know baby, I know what both my pretty sluts like.” You felt your panties soaking at his lewd language. “Come here princess.” You climbed into his lap, sitting right on his hard cock. “Want you to ride me.” He slapped your ass. “Take my cock out baby.”

You unbuckled his pants, pulling them off, climbing back into his lap. “Fuck sung, her pussy is throbbing, you’re gonna love it.” He moaned, you took his cock from his underwear, hovering over his pink tip as you stroked it — sinking down. “Fuck min.” you moaned, his cock filling you up. “Such a warm cunt, move for me baby.” You began to slowly move your hips; he threw his head back.

Jisung on the other hand was getting hard again, his cock bobbed against stomach, begging to be touched, you took notice, stopping. “Did I say stop?” You pouted. “But jisung is all alone.” You whined, lino smirked, slapping your ass. “Don’t worry about him, just keep bouncing on my cock.”

Jisung watched your tits bounced up and down as you moved on linos cock, ready to reach for his, when lino grabbed the base of his cock, stroking it. “H-hyung.” He moaned, you clenched on lino’s cock, watching him jerk the boy off in front of you was such a turn on. “Fuck lino, i’m gonna cum!” you exclaimed.

“Go ahead and cum.” Lino groaned, “Fuck i’m gonna cum too.” You moved faster, squeezing your boob, clenching down as you came all over his cock. “oh fuck, you’re squeezing me -ngh- fuck i’m cumming.” Lino grunted, spilling his load into your dripping cunt. “fuck princess, get up.” He ordered.

He let go of jisung cock, “want you to ride hannie, want him to feel you pretty pussy filled with my cum.” You climbed off of lino and into jisungs, your boyfriends cum dripping out of you. “Fuck, sit on his cock, before it spills out of you.”

You sunk down on jisung, both of you moaning in unison. “That’s it, moan for me my pretty slut.” Lino watched as you both feverishly moved against each other, chasing your highs — you were feeling super sensitive, so it didn’t take long before you were screaming that you were close. “Hannie, you better hurry, once she cums you won’t be able to cum, we gotta give our girl a break.”

That’s what it took for him to cum, lino calling you ‘our girl’ — he hadn’t even thought about that part, the fact that he’ll be able to touch you like this, not only that he’ll be able to kiss you and lino whenever. His thighs shook as he came, filling you up more with his cum. “Sh-shit.” He cursed.

Lino watched you two make out for awhile, before ordering you both to stop. “Both of you need to get cleaned up, I know both of you can’t go another round, you’re both acting like bunnies in heat.” You pulled away, giving him a few pecks. “He’s just jealous.” You teased.

“Yah, you really want to show jisung how I treat brats, i’m trying to be nice.” You pouted. “You’re so mean, i’m just trying to be nice.” Jisung chuckled watching you both go back and forth. “It’s funny hannie?” He glared at the boy. “Don’t try and intimidate him.” You said. “Both of you better get up and shower, before neither one of you cum for the whole week.”

You both finally got washed up, lino giving both of you some clothes to wear — waiting for you both to return back to bed. “Hurry!” you intertwined your hands with jisung, walking out of the bathroom. “Calm down.” You said. “We’re right here.”

Han laid in the middle, while you held him, lino opting to hold his hand, watching tv. “We can do this whenever you want.” You played with his hair. “Not without my permission though.” Lino said, you rolled your eyes.

“I would like that.” You smiled kissing his cheek. “Good.” Lino turned to you, “where’s mine.” He pointed to his cheek. “Come.” He leaned over, and you planted a kiss on his cheek. “Good girl.” He ruffled hans hair — he was happy with you before, but now that he both of you, he felt complete.

“Both of you my good baby’s.”

©LUVYENI

[darkintothedawn]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — It's Stiles' birthday and you decide to play a great indoor scavenger hunt along side his dad to celebrate it.

Memo— This is kinda bad and weird but wtv! My google docs keeps autocorrecting everything to the American spelling and that's a level of editing I do not have the motivation for.

Word Count — 7786

Masterlist | Stiles' Adventures

You never thought you’d be the type to conspire with a sheriff, but here you were—crouched behind the kitchen island of the Stilinski household with a roll of duct tape, two packs of command strips, and a small mountain of LED tea lights. Sheriff Noah Stilinski stood beside you, hands on his hips, eyes darting toward the window every few minutes like he was expecting someone to pull into the driveway mid-glitter-splosion.

"Are you sure he’s gonna be out long enough for this?" you whispered, taping a gold-edged clue card to the side of the fridge.

Noah raised a brow. "He’s with Scott. That means there's at least one detour to a comic book store and an intense debate about the best Star Wars trilogy. You’ve got time."

You smiled to yourself, heart warming at the image of Stiles animatedly ranting about plot inconsistencies while Scott pretended to follow. It was exactly why you loved him—unapologetically nerdy, wildly passionate, and so easy to adore in every way.

You looked around at the mess of craft supplies, fairy lights, and the now half-completed “adventure route” you’d mapped out through the Stilinski home. The plan was simple: a scavenger hunt made just for Stiles, based on memories you’d shared and inside jokes no one else would get. Each clue would lead him to a different room, each with a small gift, a photo, or a note from you—something that whispered, “I see you. I know you. I love you.”

"Okay," you said, laying out the next few clue cards in a careful line across the dining table. "Station two is the couch. That’s where we fell asleep watching The Princess Bride after pretending we didn’t like rom-coms."

Noah chuckled, leaning over to stick a photo strip of the two of you—taken at a rickety fairground photo booth—next to the couch’s armrest. "He told me he only stayed awake through that movie because you were resting your head on his shoulder."

You grinned. "He’s full of it. He quoted like half the movie."

The Sheriff smiled at that, shaking his head fondly. “You know,” he said softly, “he hasn’t shut up about you since the day you met. Even when I’m trying to watch the game.”

That made your chest ache in the best way. You paused a moment, absorbing that, then quickly ducked your head before emotion ruined your timeline.

“Okay, okay, back to work before I get all sappy and start crying into the fairy lights.”

With a snort, Noah grabbed a handful of battery-powered candles and helped you line the hallway. You arranged them like breadcrumbs leading down toward the final “treasure” room—Stiles' bedroom, which you’d temporarily claimed and transformed. You’d swapped out his usual Star Wars bedding for crisp new sheets in navy blue, added a cozy pile of pillows to the bed, and lit more soft lights around the room to make it feel like a sanctuary.

At the foot of the bed, you placed the last envelope: a handwritten note with the words, “For your eyes only.” Inside it, a love letter. Honest, messy, a little goofy—just like the two of you.

And on his desk sat your final gift. Not expensive, not flashy, but meaningful—a scrapbook filled with memories, polaroids, receipts from midnight milkshake runs, ticket stubs from your first horror movie date, and even a page dedicated to the time you both got drenched during a summer thunderstorm and ended up dancing in the street.

You looked at it all, then turned to Noah.

"I think… I think he’s gonna love it."

The sheriff gave you a long look—kind, warm, the kind that saw everything without having to say much. "He’s gonna lose his damn mind."

You smiled through the lump in your throat.

As you tucked the final clue under a cushion on the living room couch and set the playlist to something soft and low, you felt a flutter in your chest—not from nerves, but from knowing that, for once, it was just going to be you and him. No pack emergencies, no monsters or magical curses—just Stiles and the kind of love that glows warm like fairy lights, steady like candlelight, and comfortable like home.

And really, wasn’t that the best kind of magic?

You barely had time to blink before your phone buzzed with a message from Scott: "Headed back now. He won’t shut up about his birthday theory. I think he suspects aliens."

Classic Stiles.

Your eyes widened as you spun toward Noah. “That’s the cue. Time to evacuate, Sheriff.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, smirking. “Alright, alright, I know when I’m no longer needed.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of the dining chair, casting one last glance around the transformed space. “You really pulled it off. He’s gonna love it. And if he doesn’t cry, I’m demanding a DNA test.”

You laughed as you walked him to the door. “If he doesn’t cry, I will. So someone’s shedding a tear tonight.”

With a final wink, he stepped outside and you quickly shut the door behind him. Heart thudding, you reached into your hoodie pocket and pulled out the final touch—a folded note in your own messy handwriting, sealed with a little doodle of a cartoon bat (because, of course, Stiles once swore your first date was interrupted by a vampire, and the joke just never died).

You taped it right to the center of the front door. "Welcome Home, Birthday Boy. The Game is Afoot. -Your Soon to Be Betrothed" Below that, a tiny arrow pointing down toward the doormat where you’d placed Clue #1.

You took one last sweep of the house, heart rattling against your ribs like a caged thing. Everything was in place—the photos, the tiny trail of lights, the ambient music playing low on the Bluetooth speaker. His favorite hoodie of yours draped casually on the back of the couch, just in case he missed it (which he wouldn’t). Even the snack tray in the kitchen with his beloved sour gummy worms and blue Gatorade was right there waiting.

And then—go time.

You bolted for his bedroom, nerves sparking like static under your skin. In the closet, you’d already cleared out a little corner—just enough room to crouch down behind his jackets and slide the door mostly shut, letting just a sliver of light in from the room beyond.

As you ducked into your hiding spot, pulse in your throat, you stifled a giggle. This was ridiculous. And perfect.

You could already picture the expression on his face—the way his brows would knit together at the first clue, that focused little squint he got when he was in “mystery mode.” You imagined the amused eye-roll when he realized it was you orchestrating the hunt, not some cryptic supernatural threat. He’d roll his eyes. He’d mutter something sarcastic.

And then he’d smile. That soft, crooked smile—the one he only ever gave you, like he couldn’t believe he got to have you.

You hugged your knees to your chest, the closet suddenly feeling impossibly warm. Your palms were sweating. Your stomach fluttered so hard it felt like you’d swallowed a flock of birds.

But it wasn’t fear. Not even close.

It was the anticipation of seeing him—just him. Your favorite person, your ridiculous, rambling, brilliant mess of a boyfriend, walking through the door completely unaware of what you’d put together.

And for once, there were no monsters waiting. Just love. Just home.

Just you.

You held your breath as you heard the distant sound of tires crunching gravel in the driveway. A car door slam. Footsteps.

He was here.

And the game had begun.

~~

Stiles was mid-rant when he stepped out of the Jeep, his phone still in hand as he dramatically pointed it toward Scott, who was already halfway down the sidewalk.

“I’m just saying,” he said, voice carrying, “if there were a secret government facility under the Beacon Hills library, they wouldn’t make it obvious. That’s literally the point of secret government facilities. You hide them under places no one wants to go. Like—like DMV buildings. Or vegan juice bars.”

Scott didn’t even respond. He just threw him a knowing look over his shoulder and gave a casual, two-fingered salute before disappearing around the corner.

“Traitor,” Stiles muttered, shoving his phone into his pocket as he turned toward the house.

And paused.

There was something taped to the front door.

Something that did not look like an official document, a threat, or a “you left your socks on the stairs again and I almost died” message from his dad.

It was a note.

With your handwriting.

And right at the bottom corner, a doodle of a bat wearing sunglasses.

He stared at it for a full five seconds before reaching up and peeling it off, eyes scanning the words.

"Welcome Home, Birthday Boy. The Game is Afoot. —Your Soon to Be Betrothed"

He blinked.

Read it again.

“…Betrothed?” he echoed, voice cracking just a little as the word left his mouth like it had weight, like it had history, like it was something he wasn’t supposed to think about unless he was proposing on a windswept balcony with a bouquet of ring pops.

His ears went red.

He felt it happening and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He stood there like an idiot, note still in hand, staring at it with a weird, fluttery smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and absolutely no idea what to do with his face.

You were ridiculous. Absolutely deranged. Probably legally dangerous. He was also 100% going to marry you one day.

“Betrothed,” he muttered again, this time with the kind of breathy half-laugh that only happened when his brain was glitching out. “That’s not even legal at sixteen. That’s—that’s a medieval term. What are we, eloping in a fantasy novel?”

He glanced down at the doormat, where a small envelope sat perfectly aligned in the center.

“Oh god,” he whispered, picking it up. “It’s a scavenger hunt.”

His heart did a little cartwheel.

He should’ve known. Of course you wouldn’t just say happy birthday like a normal person. No. You’d weaponize his love of puzzles and drama and create an entire game just to lead him around the house like some kind of lovesick Holmesian idiot.

He folded the note carefully, as if it were priceless, tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans before opening the envelope.

Inside was Clue #1, written in the same familiar, slightly chaotic scrawl:

"Where we spend Sunday mornings and pretend the world doesn’t exist. Your first present is waiting."

He grinned so hard his face hurt.

The couch.

Definitely the couch.

As he stepped into the house, quietly closing the door behind him, he couldn’t help the way his fingers brushed the edge of the note again—like he needed to make sure it was still there.

“Betrothed,” he muttered one last time, shaking his head as he made his way toward the living room, blushing to his ears. “God, I’m so screwed.”

The second Stiles stepped inside, the door clicking softly shut behind him, he was hit with something that made his chest tighten—not fear, not even surprise, but this weird, achy, full kind of warmth that felt like it expanded in his lungs and pushed all the air out.

The house was quiet.

But not empty.

Somewhere deeper inside, from a speaker you’d clearly stashed out of sight, a soft instrumental track floated through the air—something mellow, dreamy. It wasn’t one of those cheesy love songs, nothing dramatic or with sweeping lyrics. It was gentle. Almost like a lullaby. Familiar, too. Something you’d played on repeat during late-night study sessions when the world outside got too loud and Stiles needed something to ground him.

He didn’t realize he’d stopped moving until he blinked and noticed his fingers flexing against the envelope in his hand.

The living room came into view, golden from the lazy trail of LED tea lights that lined the floor and curled around furniture legs like little constellations. And there—draped over the back of the couch like it had always lived there—was your hoodie. His favorite one. The oversized black one with the sleeves stretched out from where you tugged on them when you were nervous. The one that smelled like your shampoo and faintly of candy because you always forgot what was in your pockets.

He didn’t even hesitate.

Within seconds, he was sliding it on like muscle memory. It swallowed him whole in the best way. The weight of it was soft and familiar, and the scent—God, it was you. Warm and real and here, even if you weren’t technically in the room.

He tugged the hood up over his buzzed hair, exhaling through a dazed grin, arms crossed loosely over his chest like he could hold the moment still just by squeezing hard enough.

“…Okay,” he mumbled, dragging himself back to reality, “focus, Stilinski. You’re not actually gonna melt into a pile of hoodie-scented goo. You’ve got a clue to find. A game to solve. A… future spouse to locate.”

His ears flushed again.

He turned toward the couch cushions, heart still hammering a little too fast, and immediately spotted what had to be the next piece.

There, nestled between the throw pillows, sat two polaroids and another envelope—this one decorated with yet another doodle, this time of a little ghost holding a heart. You’d drawn little motion lines around it like it was zooming.

He picked up the photos first, holding them up to the light.

The first one was you, caught mid-sneeze—eyes half-lidded, mouth open in some in-between curse-word-turned-sneeze expression. Stiles snorted so hard he almost dropped it.

The second one?

Him. Kissing your cheek.

You were trying to look annoyed, like you hadn’t just combusted from the contact—but your face had gone this perfect, brilliant shade of pink and your nose was scrunched up in that way that made his stomach do a completely unprovoked somersault.

He let out a breath through his nose, all fondness and fuzz.

“I cannot believe you kept the sneeze one,” he said to no one, because no one was around, but it didn’t matter. His voice still felt full of you.

Then he reached for the envelope.

It was wedged just slightly between the two photos, as if guarded. As if the memories themselves were protecting the next step.

He turned it over in his hands, thumbs brushing the tiny ghost.

Inside, he already knew—another piece of the trail. Another little puzzle, written in your voice.

And God, he’d never been more excited to chase something in his life.

The envelope crinkled just slightly as Stiles slid a careful finger beneath the flap, trying not to tear the ghost drawing. He’d never admit it out loud, but he was pretty sure he was going to keep all of these clues forever. Probably in a shoebox. Or maybe under his bed. Or framed. Shut up, it didn’t matter.

Inside, the second clue was written in the same pen—black gel, slightly smudged in places like you'd gone too fast, or maybe your hand had been shaking. Or sweating. Cute.

He unfolded the note and read aloud in a low murmur, the kind he only used when it was just him and no one was listening:

“For the next treasure, go where the contraband lives. Where the ‘we’re just getting water’ lie always gives. Behind the Wheat Thins and dad’s ‘secret’ stash, Lurks the next memory, plus a little sugar dash. (And yes, I drew you as a chocolate wizard. You’re welcome.)”

Stiles stared at it for a second. Then laughed.

“Chocolate wizard,” he repeated, shaking his head like it was the most ridiculous, most you phrase he’d ever heard. Which—honestly—was saying something.

He moved quickly now, feet padding down the hall with the kind of focused energy he usually reserved for crime scenes or trivia contests. The kitchen greeted him with the same quiet warmth as the rest of the house, dim lights casting soft shadows against the countertops. The playlist from the speaker was still going, shifting now into some kind of twinkly piano cover of a Bowie song, and it made everything feel extra surreal—like he’d stepped into a memory that hadn’t happened yet.

He didn’t hesitate as he approached the tall cabinet to the left of the fridge—the one that looked like it held nothing but innocent boxes of cereal and maybe a bottle of olive oil, but was actually Noah Stilinski’s poorly hidden snack vault. He and you had been raiding it since the day you started hanging out after school. “Just grabbing a glass of water,” was code for “stealing half a sleeve of Oreos and sprinting back upstairs like raccoons.”

Stiles opened the cabinet door and immediately reached behind the box of Wheat Thins.

And there it was.

Tucked neatly between a bag of trail mix and a box of Pop-Tarts was another envelope, this one a soft orange, like a sticky note. Drawn on the front in Sharpie was a truly spectacular stick-figure version of Stiles wearing a wizard hat made of chocolate. It even had tiny sparkles around it and a speech bubble that read, “I summon snacks!”

Beneath it, carefully placed and absolutely irresistible, was a small bar of chocolate—his favorite brand, the kind with chili and sea salt he pretended was “too spicy” for Scott but hoarded like gold. He grinned and pocketed it instantly.

And there, sitting beside the envelope, were two more polaroids.

He picked them up, instantly recognizing you in the first one—and wheezed.

“Oh my god.”

It was bad. Not just “oops I blinked” bad, but full mid-sentence, mouth open, eyes half-closed, hair doing that thing where it looked like it was trying to escape your skull. He had no idea when he took it, but judging by the chaos in the background, it was probably during one of your joint snack heists.

“You’re gonna kill me for keeping this,” he whispered fondly, tucking it behind the chocolate wizard clue like he was shielding you from your own humiliation.

Then he looked at the second photo.

And his breath caught just a little.

It was him—caught in profile, lips curved in the kind of rare, relaxed smile that didn’t show up unless he was laughing. His hand was resting just behind your head, clearly mid-ridiculous story, and you—you—were looking up at him, eyes wide, cheeks redder than a sunburn, expression stuck between admiration and utter disbelief that this was your life now.

It looked like a movie still. It looked like the moment someone realizes they’re hopelessly, helplessly in love.

Stiles ran a hand over his buzzed head, hoodie sleeves falling over his fingers. His heart did that stupid thing where it clenched and melted at the same time, like it didn’t know whether to combust or dissolve.

He stared at the photos for a long moment, then at the envelope.

And that’s when he realized it.

The pattern.

One embarrassing photo of you. One shockingly flattering photo of him. A clue. A treat. All nestled in places that meant something—not to everyone, but to you and him. Where you spent time. Hid from the world. Made dumb jokes and even dumber memories.

This wasn’t just a scavenger hunt.

It was a love letter. One with candy and chaos and polaroids instead of punctuation.

He swallowed, still smiling like an idiot as he slid the orange envelope open, more excited than ever for what came next.

Stiles slipped the clue out of the orange envelope, carefully so he didn’t smudge the ink. You’d written it a little more compact this time, like you were trying to contain something that wanted to spill over—like the words had energy in them. Like you had energy in you when you wrote it.

He read it once silently, and then again out loud, his voice quieter now, tinged with something softer. Something warmer.

“You’ve earned a pit stop—something sweet, something blue. Check the tray, take a sip (yes, it’s all just for you). But don’t linger too long—there’s one more place to be. Where your hoodie ends up… when you’re sharing it with me.”

He stood frozen for a beat, blinking at the page.

His lips twitched upward, and his ears flushed in slow motion.

“…Oh,” he said.

Then: “Oh.”

He looked toward the counter like it had suddenly become sacred. And in a way—it kind of had. You’d set it up like a miniature shrine: his favorite snacks laid out on a tray in ridiculous precision (you knew he liked the green gummy worms more than the orange ones), and beside it, an ice-cold bottle of blue Gatorade, the condensation making it look like it had been waiting for him all day.

He approached it like it might vanish if he blinked too hard.

For a second, he just stared—like he couldn’t believe it was real. Like he wasn’t already wearing your hoodie and halfway through a romantic quest you’d handcrafted like the world’s most affectionate cryptid.

Then he reached out, lifted the bottle of Gatorade, and took a slow sip.

And groaned.

“You remembered the exact temperature I like this at. You’re a witch.”

He popped a sour gummy worm into his mouth and grinned around it, high on sugar and something a lot more dangerous—something warm and giddy and intimate that made his knees a little weak.

As he leaned forward to grab another candy, something caught his eye—a flicker of color sticking out just barely from beneath the tray. Like it was peeking.

He slid the tray to the side, revealing another envelope—this one pale pink, with tiny hearts doodled along the bottom, but all lopsided and rushed like you’d done them last-minute.

He picked it up like it was precious. Like it mattered.

Because it did.

The note inside was short. Just two lines. And this time, the writing was different—still you, still messy, but slower. Intentional. Weighted.

“You’ve followed my trail—every sweet, silly part. Now go to your room… and bring your heart.”

There was a tiny arrow pointing downward, and beneath it, one last line, smaller and scribbled faster, like you’d hesitated before writing it at all:

“(And maybe your mouth, too.)”

Stiles blinked.

And then flushed so red it reached the tips of his ears.

He slapped the note lightly against his chest. “You menace.”

But he couldn’t stop smiling. It wouldn’t leave. Not even if he tried. His fingers curled around the note, carefully folding it as his heart raced ahead of him—way ahead.

He looked down the hallway, toward the stairs, toward his room.

And then he was moving.

Stiles’ socked feet barely made a sound as he climbed the stairs, the soft music from downstairs fading behind him like a curtain closing. Every step sent a little tremor through his chest, something giddy and humming, like the notes of a secret song playing just under his skin. The hoodie sleeves covered his hands completely now, and he clutched the last clue tight like it might fly away if he loosened his grip.

At the top of the stairs, he hesitated, his fingers brushing the edge of the hallway wall like he was steadying himself. The house was still quiet. Not the kind of silence that meant no one was home, but the kind that meant someone was waiting. Holding their breath. Listening.

He turned the corner.

His bedroom door was slightly ajar.

The light was different—softer. Warmer. Golden.

And the second he stepped over the threshold, everything in him stopped.

His room—his chaotic, poster-covered, slightly disastrous room—wasn’t gone, but it was… changed.

Transformed.

The harsh Star Wars bedding he’d probably had since middle school was gone, swapped out for clean, navy-blue sheets that looked like something out of a catalog, smooth and cool and deliberately chosen. His bed—usually a battlefield of mismatched pillows and tangled blankets—was now neat but cozy, layered with extra cushions, a folded knit throw at the end. The string lights above his headboard had been replaced—or maybe just added to—with warm, ambient fairy lights tucked along the walls, giving the entire room a hazy glow, like dusk bottled in glass.

The air smelled faintly like the candle you always lit at your house. Vanilla and cedar and something a little citrusy, like hope.

It didn’t look like a teenager’s room anymore.

It looked like a space made for him. Like you’d gone out of your way to carve a sanctuary out of his chaos. A soft place to land. A secret nest only you and he knew about.

And at the foot of the bed, resting against one of the navy pillows like the center of a constellation, was the final envelope.

This one was thick. Handwritten in bold, unmistakable scrawl. On the front, in looping, nervous letters:

“For your eyes only.”

His throat tightened. He stared at it for a moment, caught between wonder and disbelief, fingers twitching at his sides like they didn’t trust themselves to touch it yet.

Then, slowly, he crossed the room, each step quieter than the last.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, hoodie pooling around his arms, and reached for the envelope like it was sacred.

It was unsealed.

His name was written once, in smaller letters inside the flap. Just Stiles. No nicknames. No jokes. Like you couldn’t make yourself be funny when you wrote it. Like it mattered too much.

He opened it.

Inside, the letter was folded in half. The paper wasn’t lined—just blank, like you hadn’t needed structure to say what you needed to say. His fingers trembled a little as he opened it.

And there it was.

Your handwriting. Real. Tangled. Imperfect.

A love letter.

He could see it before he read a word: little scratch-outs where you’d second-guessed a sentence, arrows pointing to phrases you wanted to add. A tiny doodle in the margin of the two of you—stick-figure versions holding hands, one in a hoodie, the other with a ridiculous crown labeled birthday boy. The kind of letter that wasn’t polished, but was honest. Messy. A little goofy.

Just like the two of you.

He hadn’t even started reading yet, and he was already overwhelmed.

He sat there in the golden light, hoodie sleeves bunched in his lap, a room reshaped by love around him, a letter written by the person who knew him best in his hands.

And for once in his life—

He didn’t have a single word.

Just the kind of smile that doesn’t fade.

Stiles took a breath and finally let his eyes fall to the first line of the letter.

Dear Stiles (aka the light of my life, the smartest idiot I’ve ever met, the reason my standards are ruined forever, and my now-certified birthday boy),

Hi.

I know you’re probably blushing already, and honestly? Good. You deserve to. You deserve to feel like the center of the universe today. Actually, every day, but especially today.

Because here’s the thing: you are so stupidly, wildly, unfairly wonderful.

Like, do you even get how good you are? You’re brilliant (like scary smart—do you remember that time you solved that entire AP Chem problem before class even started and then helped me figure out how to balance basic equations without making me feel like a total moron??), and you’re hilarious (even when your jokes make me groan, I’m laughing inside, don’t lie), and you’ve got this face—this face, Stiles—that has no business being as perfect as it is.

Especially with the buzz cut.

Let’s talk about that for a second. The buzz cut? Criminal. Like, I was not prepared to find out I have a thing for soft hair and sharp jawlines and the back of your neck. You’ve created a monster. I literally cannot concentrate when you tilt your head. You’ve turned me into a flustered cartoon character. Congrats.

But here’s what gets me the most: you care.

You care so hard. About your dad, about Scott, about your friends, about me. You put everything you have into being there for people, even when you’re exhausted or scared or hiding behind one of your thousand sarcastic defense mechanisms. You show up. You’ve always shown up.

Like that day in fourth grade when I tripped over my own shoelace and biffed it in front of the whole playground. Remember that? I was crying, my knee was bleeding, and I’d just dropped my favorite pencil case with the sparkly stars on it. And you—tiny, bony, big-eyed Stiles—ran over like the floor was lava and immediately offered me your sleeve to wipe my face. Your sleeve, Stiles. You didn’t even flinch.

And you helped me up and made some ridiculous joke about gravity having a crush on me and I laughed—through the tears and snot and dirt, I laughed. And we’ve been friends ever since.

If you hadn’t been you in that exact moment, I don’t know where I’d be. Because everything that’s ever made my life better somehow leads back to you.

Which is why I am so damn glad I said yes when you asked me out. Four years later, still you, still me, still a little awkward and a lot in love.

And yeah. I am in love with you.

Head over heels. Hopelessly. Helplessly. Absolutely wrecked by how much I love you.

You make me feel safe and seen and like maybe the world isn’t as terrible as it looks on the news. You make me laugh when I want to cry, and you let me cry when I need to—and you never make me feel bad for either. You just… get me.

And you love me back. Somehow. Which is the biggest miracle of all.

So happy birthday, my soon-to-be-betrothed (yes, I said it again, fight me).

You’re my favorite person I’ve ever met. And the best part is—you’re mine.

Love, always and obnoxiously, Me.

P.S. You should probably go look at your desk now.

Like. Now now.

Stiles stared at the letter for a long, suspended moment after he finished reading.

His heart was hammering. His ears were hot. His eyes were suspiciously damp—but he didn’t move to wipe them. Didn’t blink them away. He just let it happen, let it be, because if there was ever a moment to feel everything all at once, it was this one.

You loved him.

And not in a vague, Hallmark card kind of way. You loved him in full paragraphs. In fourth-grade memories and buzz cut compliments and chaotic margins. You’d wrapped every inch of your heart into that letter, and now it was in his hands, sitting in his lap, warm as if it had just been pulled from your chest.

And somehow—somehow—you’d done more.

He blinked and looked up, your last sentence echoing in his brain like it was shouted down a hallway. P.S. You should probably go look at your desk now.

He turned slowly, standing on legs that were just a little wobbly with awe, and crossed the room toward the desk he barely used except to stack unopened textbooks and doodle when he was supposed to be doing homework.

But tonight?

It looked entirely different.

No clutter. No old gum wrappers or tangled earbuds or loose paperclips. Just one thing.

Centered. Waiting.

A scrapbook.

The cover was simple—matte black with his name on it in silver sharpie, hand-lettered in your slightly crooked handwriting. Around it were tiny white stars, all uneven and scattered, like a little galaxy made just for him. Like you’d tried to fit the whole universe on a spiral-bound cover.

He reached for it with the kind of reverence usually reserved for holy relics.

The first page creaked open with that satisfying, deliberate sound only thick paper can make—and then he was gone.

There was a photo of the two of you, age eleven, leaning awkwardly against each other, both sunburnt from the county fair, you wearing one of his flannels because you’d spilled cherry slushie on your shirt and Stiles had offered his like a tiny gentleman in cargo shorts.

There was a wrinkled receipt taped beside it—from Eddie’s All-Nite Diner—with a scribble under the $7.50 milkshake charge: “First sugar crash together. Worth it.”

Another page: a movie ticket from the worst horror movie of all time (and your first date), where you’d both screamed at the same exact jump scare and then laughed so hard the old couple two rows behind you told you to leave.

Polaroids were everywhere—messy, out of order, completely perfect. Some were blurry from movement, some captured you mid-blink or him mid-sneeze. But there were just as many soft ones, quiet ones. You tangled in a hoodie that definitely wasn't yours. Stiles grinning with chocolate ice cream on his nose. A close-up of your hands intertwined, his thumb running over your knuckle like a habit he couldn’t quit.

Then came the page he didn’t expect.

The thunderstorm.

You’d captioned it only with: “Stiles + [Your Name] vs. the storm: we lost, and it was the best night ever.”

The photo showed both of you soaked to the bone, standing in the middle of a glowing street, rain caught mid-fall like starlight. He had his hands cupped around your cheeks. You were laughing, mouth open wide, like you couldn’t contain the joy, like nothing had ever felt more right. And behind you, the world was blurred and glowing, caught in the storm with you.

He closed the scrapbook slowly, holding it against his chest like it was a heartbeat.

This wasn’t just a gift. This was everything.

A history. A promise. A celebration. A quiet, hand-built monument to your love, crafted out of scraps and snapshots and scribbles.

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t expensive. It didn’t matter that it didn’t come with a receipt or a barcode.

It mattered because it was you. All the best parts of you. And all the parts of him you’d chosen to treasure.

Stiles took a breath, eyes stinging again, and turned toward the door.

“Okay,” he whispered to himself, smiling so hard it ached. “You win. Best birthday of all time.”

And then he went to find you.

He turned around with purpose—full of momentum and love and maybe a little bit of sparkling tears still clinging to his lashes. He was ready to go find you, to sprint downstairs or search the house or call your name like a man on a mission.

But he didn’t have to.

Because you were already there.

Standing just a few feet away, leaning awkwardly just in front of the doorway with your hands in the sleeves of his sweatshirt—way too long for you, the hem brushing your thighs. Your legs were bare except for a pair of his sweatpants, rolled at the ankles so you didn’t trip. The sleeves of his hoodie covered your hands entirely, and the drawstrings were pulled unevenly. You looked cozy and rumpled and completely perfect.

His eyes flicked to the closet—open. Your graphic tee (the one with the cartoon cat and the phrase “You’ve got to be kitten me”) was crumpled in a pile on the floor like it had been discarded in a moment of boredom or impatience. Of course. You’d gotten restless waiting for him.

“Hi,” you said softly, and your voice held this shy warmth like maybe you were afraid it would all be too much. “I got bored. And also… your clothes are stupid comfortable, so.”

Stiles made a noise. It wasn’t even a word—just a sound, somewhere between a breath and a choke.

Then he moved.

There was no hesitation, no moment of panic or awkwardness or hesitation like there sometimes was with him. He just stepped forward and grabbed you—arms wrapping tight around your waist, face burying into the crook of your neck like it was the only place he could breathe.

And he cried.

Not a loud, ugly cry. Not sobs.

Just quiet, open, real crying. His shoulders shook a little. His breath hitched against your skin. His hands fisted in the fabric of his own sweatshirt where it hung on your back. He didn’t try to hold it back, didn’t apologize, didn’t ruin it with a joke. He just let it happen.

You held him right back, just as tightly, letting him melt into you like a boy who’d been carrying too much for too long and was only now allowed to fall apart a little.

“I love you,” he whispered into your shoulder, the words muffled and thick. “I love you so much, it hurts, okay? You—god, you did all this. You made this whole day magical and stupidly perfect and—you. You made it you. I don’t even know what I did to deserve you, but—holy shit—I love you.”

You didn’t say anything right away. Just held him, one hand moving up to thread through the tiny bristles of his buzzcut, the other anchoring at the small of his back.

He made a soft sound at the touch, like it grounded him. Like your fingers in his hair were all it took to keep him here, in this moment, in you.

When you did speak, it was barely above a whisper.

“I’ve loved you since you offered me your sleeve.”

He let out this shaky laugh that cracked right down the middle and turned into a hiccup of another tear.

Then you both stood there for a long time—no more clues, no more envelopes, no more presents or plans.

Just two kids in love, wrapped in each other, in a room that smelled like candle wax and hope, hearts thudding in sync under cotton and thread and years of shared history.

Eventually, Stiles pulled back just enough to see your face, his hands still cupping your sides like you might float away if he let go.

“You’re never getting this sweatshirt back,” you murmured, smiling up at him.

“Deal,” he said, and leaned in to kiss you like it was the only gift he needed.

His lips were warm and familiar and just a little bit chapped—like he hadn’t remembered to use the lip balm you kept trying to sneak into his backpack. But none of that mattered. Not the dry lips or the tear-smudged cheeks or the fact that his hoodie sleeves were still swallowing your hands.

Because the kiss?

It was everything.

Soft and slow at first—like he was afraid of shattering the moment. His hands stayed gentle, fingers curled against the small of your back and your side, barely gripping, just holding. Like you were fragile, or maybe like he was. And then you tilted your head just a little, pressed closer, and something cracked open.

He sighed into your mouth like it was relief.

Like kissing you was the answer to a question he hadn’t known he was asking all day.

The kiss stayed sweet, but it deepened in that sort of clumsy, impossibly you two way—where his nose bumped yours and he smiled into it, where you laughed quietly against his lips because his hand had accidentally brushed your hip and made you twitch.

You broke the kiss for a breath, barely, and he chased you with a quiet sound—like he was already missing it.

You nuzzled close, your nose brushing the side of his, and whispered, lips brushing his skin as you spoke, “Just so you know… if you ever get rid of this buzz cut, I’m going to cry.”

He blinked, breath catching as he pulled back the tiniest bit to look at you. “What?”

“I’ll cry,” you repeated solemnly, then kissed the corner of his mouth. “Real tears. Ugly ones. And then I’ll have to go find someone else’s sleeve to sob into. Because this?” You reached up and ran your fingers along the soft velvet of his buzzed hair. “This is criminally hot. I mean, seriously. You have no idea what this does to me.”

Stiles flushed immediately—face going from warm to cherry red in an instant. “Wha—okay, no. No, see, this is not fair. You can’t just say stuff like that when I’m—when I’ve just been emotionally demolished by your love scrapbook and—and your face in my hoodie.”

You grinned.

He rubbed a hand down his own face, flustered and glowing and utterly undone. “You—you love the buzz cut?”

You nodded, emphatic. “I adore it. You look like… like a freshly sharpened pencil I want to make out with forever.”

He made a strangled noise. “That is the weirdest and most affirming compliment I’ve ever received.”

You kissed him again. Quick. Sweet. “Good.”

He rested his forehead against yours then, eyes fluttering shut, still smiling like he couldn’t stop if he tried. “I almost didn’t do it, you know. Buzz it. I thought you might hate it. Or think I looked like an egg.”

You pulled back just enough to cup his cheeks, your expression full of earnest affection.

“You could look like a literal potato and I’d still be in love with you. But lucky for both of us, you look like a movie star with a jawline sharp enough to commit crimes.”

Stiles made another one of those soft, broken little laughs and melted right into your hands.

“I love you,” he murmured. “So much it makes my chest feel too small.”

“Good,” you whispered back. “Then we match.”

And you kissed him again, slow this time, lingering. The kind of kiss that said thank you, and I see you, and I want to keep choosing you—over and over again.

And in the soft, golden light of his newly transformed room, wrapped in each other and ridiculous compliments and hoodie sleeves too long for your hands, everything felt safe. Everything felt like forever.

Eventually, the kiss slowed, softened, like an exhale that had been waiting all day to happen.

Your foreheads bumped again, and your lips brushed once more, but this time it was gentler—less urgency, more intimacy. Stiles sighed through his nose, still tangled in the warmth of your arms, your words, your everything.

You smiled, not pulling too far away, just enough to shift onto your knees on the bed and gesture behind you with a small, secretive glint in your eyes. “Okay. One more gift.”

Stiles groaned, but it was soft and fond, dragging his hands down his face dramatically. “How? How are there more? You already wrecked me. I'm emotionally obliterated. Do you want me to die?”

“Not yet.” You grinned. “But you might implode. So scoot.”

He shuffled obediently, and you reached back toward the stack of pillows at the head of his bed, digging beneath the fluff until your fingers curled around something you’d stashed carefully earlier in the day.

A small black box.

You hesitated for just a second, then pulled it free and turned, sitting cross-legged in front of him.

“I was gonna… give you this in a different context,” you admitted, voice dipping a little. There was heat beneath your words—an unspoken layer of maybe later tonight, if we felt brave enough, but you didn’t say it aloud. You didn’t have to. The flush in his cheeks said he understood exactly what you meant.

His eyes flicked to the box, then back to your face, breath catching.

You opened it slowly.

Inside was a crown.

Not gaudy. Not regal. Not a king’s crown or anything covered in jewels.

No—this was so him.

Crafted of matte black metal, the usual sharp spikes had been swapped for curved little bats—elegant and geeky all at once. They looked like they were mid-flight, like they’d taken off from some gothic comic book panel. And across the front and right behind it on the inner band, etched in delicate silver script, were two lines:

I love you. I know.

Stiles made a sound. A choked-off laugh, caught in his throat like it didn’t know whether to come out as awe or disbelief.

“I—what—” He reached forward but didn’t touch it, like he was afraid his hands were too human for something this perfect.

You lifted it from the box carefully, the way you might lift a relic from a museum or a holy object, and leaned toward him.

He went still.

And when you settled it on his head—when you placed it there gently, precisely, reverently—his breath stuttered right out of him.

“There,” you whispered, brushing his cheek. “Perfect.”

He blinked at you, visibly overwhelmed, voice caught somewhere in the galaxy between bashful and undone. “You made me a bat crown.”

“I did.”

“With a Star Wars quote.”

“Uh huh.”

“And I love you.”

“You better,” you said, grinning, but your voice cracked slightly. Because you weren’t done. Not quite.

You took his hand.

Held it between both of yours like it was precious. Like it had always been meant for you.

“Stiles,” you said, and then, more deliberately, more sacred, “Mieczysław.”

His breath hitched.

“That’s my engagement promise to you,” you said quietly, steady despite your heart racing. “Because let’s be honest. We’re gonna get married someday. It’s not even a question anymore. It’s just a when. And this? This is your crown. Because you already rule my whole world.”

Stiles’ eyes welled instantly, but he didn’t look away. Didn’t laugh it off. Didn’t try to change the subject like he usually might. He just stared at you like you were the only real thing that had ever existed.

You smiled softly, eyes flicking up to the little bats still trembling slightly with the movement of his breathing.

And that was it.

The moment hung between you like starlight—quiet, steady, eternal.

Just two disaster nerds in love, one in a hoodie and the other in a bat crown, already promising forever in the language of Star Wars and memories and late-night snacks.

And maybe it wasn’t the grandest birthday anyone had ever thrown, but it didn’t have to be.

Because this?

This was yours.

Forever.

“Happy birthday, Stilinski.”

[onlyhereforthestories]

Gift Guessing Games (Ingrid Engen x Reader)

Day 11. I really love Ingrid but shes so sweet I feel the cute ones like this are best suited for writing for her. So enjoy!

“Alright, let’s do this,” Ingrid declared, tugging her bobble hat snugly over her ears as she adjusted her scarf. The two of you stood at the entrance of the bustling shopping centre, a cold breeze whipping at your bodies that was the only positive about going inside. She turned to you, her expression a mix of determination and something a little more fun. “I need your help, but there’s a catch. Well not really a catch but you’ll get what I mean in a second.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious already. “Oh? What’s the catch? Is this some impossible mission?”

She smirked, leaning in slightly. “It’s for my secret Santa gift… but I’m not telling you who I got. You’ll have to guess.”

You laughed, shoving your hands into your coat pockets. “So, I’m helping you shop but I’m being left completely in the dark? That’s okay but you can’t blame me if we end up with something ridiculous.”

Ingrid grinned and grabbed your hand, tugging you inside where the warmth of the mall wrapped around you like a cozy blanket. Twinkling fairy lights adorned every storefront, garlands hung over doorways, and a giant Christmas tree stood proudly in the centre, its ornaments shimmering under the glow of the many little bulbs lighting up the tree. Holiday music drifted through the air, creating a welcome distraction from the many people who looked like they were panicking or just not liking the sheer amount of people around them.

“Alright, first question,” you said, as the two of you strolled into the first shop. “Are they someone who’s hard to shop for? Like do we actually have an impossible task anyway, even without me being in the dark.”

Ingrid shrugged, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. This was going to be a long shopping trip. “Depends on who’s shopping. I have faith in us.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not giving me much here, but okay. Let’s start with something practical but fun. A mug, maybe? Like one of these…” You grabbed a novelty mug from the shelf, reading it aloud. “‘Captain in Charge… of Coffee Breaks.’ It’s perfect if your person drinks coffee. Or if they are, I don’t know, a team captain?” Your guess was the subtlest you could come up with and you were pretty proud of yourself.

Ingrid snorted, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Not bad. But keep guessing.”

You watched her carefully, trying to catch any flicker of a reaction, but she gave nothing away. So not Alexia, one down god knows how many more to go. “Damn it okay,” you said, placing the mug back. “Next question. Are they a more serious person or are they a big goof?”

“Both,” Ingrid said immediately, moving toward a shelf of scented candles and giving one an experimental sniff. “They can be super focused, but they also have a good sense of humour.”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully as you followed her, a gesture that had Ingrid snickering under her breath at you. “Serious but funny. Hmm. What about someone who’s always playing music? Do they love gadgets?” You wandered over to a display of retro-style record players. “This is cute. It’s small, quirky, and perfect for someone who likes to mess around with genres and artists.”

Ingrid chuckled, giving the tiny record player a once-over. “That’s actually a good idea. I really like that as a gift, but nope. That won’t work for my Secret Santa.”

“Okay, now you’re just enjoying this,” you said, narrowing your eyes at her. You had a feeling she had a present in mind already but just wanted to make you come up with things and guesses for her teammates.

She grinned, unapologetic. “Maybe. Keep going.”

“Yes ma’am,” you said with an exaggerated sigh. “Do they like organizing things? Like are they the type to have their entire life planned out in a colour-coded spreadsheet?”

Ingrid laughed, shaking her head. “I think everyone on the team could use a little more organization, but that’s not a hint.”

You spotted a leather-bound planner with gold accents on a nearby display and held it up. “This is classy. Even if they’re not the organized type, it could be aspirational. Maybe push them to be a little more proactive in their organizational skills.”

Ingrid tilted her head, considering it. “You’re really good at this. But still no.”

You groaned, dramatically throwing your head back. “Ingrid! You’re killing me. At least tell me if they’re someone you’re close to.” You grabbed her hand as you strolled around the next shop.

Her smile softened, and she gave a little shrug, squeezing your hand slightly in the process. “I mean we’re all close. But yeah, this person’s special.”

You caught the flicker of affection in her voice and grinned. “Special, huh? So, we’re talking someone who looks up to you, maybe? Someone who thinks you’re the coolest person on the planet?” you made sure she could hear the teasing tone of your voice, she had given you a bit too big of a clue and you now knew who it was.

Ingrid gave you a sideways glance, her smile turning sheepish. “I’m not saying anything.”

You clapped your hands together. “It’s Jana, isn’t it? Oh, I’ve got this. Jewellery. Something simple but meaningful. Like… oh!” You pointed toward a display case filled with delicate silver bracelets, each engraved with a small charm bearing an inspirational word. “‘Fearless.’ That’s perfect. She’s fearless on the pitch, right? And it’s something she can wear every day.”

Ingrid’s silence was telling. She reached for the bracelet, her fingers brushing over the charm as a soft smile spread across her face. “Okay, okay. You win. It’s Jana. And this… babe this is perfect.”

You beamed, pleased with yourself. “I knew it. But for the record, I was onto you from the start.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her expression made your heart swell. “Sure you were.” She wrapped her hands around your neck and pulled you a little closer as she spoke. “And I’m sure you played along with my game just for me huh?”

You nodded your head enthusiastically before standing on your toes to press a gentle kiss to the woman’s lips. Letting your hand run into her back pocket where you pulled out her purse. “Time to pay!” Ingrid was quick to grab her purse back before you could even get out of her arms.

As the two of you headed to the checkout, Ingrid glanced over at you, her voice quieter now. “Thanks for helping me with this. I wanted it to be something meaningful, you know? Something that shows her how proud I am of her.”

You bumped her shoulder lightly. “You didn’t need my help for that. It’s obvious how much you care about her. This gift is just the cherry on top.”

With the gift brought, you and Ingrid headed for the outside. Ingrid pulled her scarf tihght around her neck again before she gripped your hand in hers. You made it all of 5 paces into the cool air before you broke the peaceful silence that had settled between you.

“Now,” you said with a grin, “let’s talk wrapping paper. Because you’re not just slapping this in a bag and calling it a day. We’re going all out.”

Ingrid laughed, the sound echoing warmly in the quiet street. “Bows and ribbons?”

“Obviously,” you replied. “It’s not Christmas without glitter.”

She squeezed your hand, her smile wide and full of gratitude. “Deal. But you’re in charge of the glitter.”

[raeinyourdreams]

'call it what you want.' | l.h x reader

pairings: logan howlett x sway!reader

tags: fluff, no established relationship but.. there's something there, mutant!reader (they call her sway due to her mutation.. i love her i wanna talk ab her someone PLEASE ASK AB HER), AFAB reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, no specific petnames for reader (just bub and her hero name.. gets called kid like twice), no use of y/n, written with x1/x2 logan in mind... sigh... save me x2 logan.. anyway, he gives reader his dog tags before a mission in case he.. you know.. so maybe angst? but only til the very end.

wc: 2k!!

a/n: OKAY SO BOOM! this is my first actual work that's not a drabble and i'm so anxious to post AAHHH, i got the inspo from a post i saw a while ago while fried as fuck from someone requesting a fic ab logan giving reader his dog tags, pref fluffy and angsty so i hope i did ur vision justice OP!! tysm for inspo, my reqs are always open 🫶🏻 also i know this is a very burnt card but if something in the wording is off lmk PLEASEE english isn't my first language 😭 anyway enough yapping plz enjoy!! any type of interaction is appreciated

'just know these are yours now.'

you've never seen him without his dog tags, he never took them off, not ever since the first time he came into the mansion. you'd been there the first time, you were a teacher in the school, and you'd seen him occasionally roam the halls and stay by the door, listening in on your class, quietly. but very rarely interacted otherwise, just a simple nod or a 'good morning' that he'd return out of good manners, but he'd mostly keep to himself.

you're a teacher. you're the fun teacher. at least that's what your coworkers seemed to agree upon, seeing how your students appeared to leave your classroom more cheerful than they entered. you'd be lying if you said you didn't use your mutation as an advantage in this situation, being able to read your students' moods every day, how they were feeling and why came insanely handy, especially when it came to giving each student the type of care they needed. which is why you were also a student counselor.

on the days you didn't teach, you'd put that psych degree to work and counsel. in your classroom filled with drawings and fairy lights and stained glass that looked straight from a fairytale, and a door you'd lock for privacy as a student came to confide in you.

obviously despite your title, it wasn't only students who'd come to your office to let a feeling go, teachers too, needed a space to blow off some steam, cry a little sometimes, because they knew you'd soothe them in the end, touch your hand feel the pain dissipate, make it seem as if they'd never felt that way.

up until now, only teachers and students seemed to come to you for help. teachers. and students.

so it did surprise you when the wolverine started showing up in your office after coming back.

"must be tiring. to handle others' emotions like your own all day." he'd say, sitting down on a chair, to which you'd playfully roll your eyes and shake your head. "i don't treat them as my own, i just do what i have to do so they feel better." you'd reply, walking towards the door to lock it out of policy. figured that he was here for counseling as well.

"you treat everyone with so much care it seems like it." he said, which made you stop in your tracks, turning heel to face him, your hair cascading on your shoulders and moving ever so softly as you spun. before you could speak, stunned, he asked again.

"don't you get tired? i mean mentally. it must take a toll on you to be around so many emotions all the time." the way he seemed to read you stunned you, he seemed like a very gruff, cold person from the brief interactions you'd had with him before. truth be told, this was the closest you'd been to logan since he came back to the mansion. it's what other people thought of him, anyway.

but you weren't other people, you were different.

the feeling in your body when you perceive others emotions is strange. you could never put it into words. your mutation was mostly contact based, a small brush of the hand was enough to let you know that person's feelings, the reason behind them, what they needed to feel better and it made it easier to help everyone. you could, however, see and feel the emotions, sometimes even smell them if they were too strong, no need for contact necessary.

with logan, you almost didn't need to be in the same room as him to feel the amount of physical, mental, emotional strain he was constantly under, his superhuman body subconsciously tuning it out, making him oblivious to it. once, after a very dangerous mission, he isolated himself in his room for days, his expression cold and unfazed, but every time you'd walk past an area he was in, the emotions hit you like a truck. so strong you even cried over pain that wasn't yours, a life you hadn't lived.

you looked at him sympathetically, taking a deep breath to concentrate less on the seemingly invisible fog around you two as you sat on the chair, your expression calm and collected. "i'm okay, i promise. thank you, logan."

"like hell you are." "neither are you."

he stays quiet at your retaliation, a weak smile forming on his lips, letting you understand that you were right, not that you needed confirmation.

sometimes, when emotions overpower you, you feel compelled to speak, give words of reassurance, even if you didn't quite know if they'd help or not. "logan, you should let people into your heart, stop living in fear.." you blurted out, unsure of why you were telling him this, but you'd learned to not question it and just speak, because it helped to just hear the words sometimes. it certainly did get you a reaction from logan, as the overbearing feelings you were perceiving faded.. briefly, before they slowly crept back into vision.

it was the faintest of reactions, but a reaction at least.

he nodded, taking in the words silently, as if he were contemplating. you remained stoic, analyzing his demeanor out of pure habit. "did.. you come here for counseling?" you asked, suddenly aware that you were still working, and you weren't even sure if he was here for another reason, or if he did need your help. instead, he shook his head, looking at you as if he were conducting an analysis of his own.

"nah, just came to see you.. sway."

a knock on the door interrupted the brewing tension, a gloomy, childlike presence behind the door, to which you looked at logan apologetically. "i'm sorry logan, i have a student to attend.. but think about what i said." you spoke softly, your warm voice reverberating in his ears like a hug.. something he longed for but couldn't bring himself to ask.

you started seeing him around the classroom more, or rather, he started seeking you out more. in between breaks, before his training, during counseling. it got to a point where your children started greeting him hello and goodbye if he was in the classroom, interacting with him, playing with his hair, always styled like kitty ears. the way he just smiled and let them made something in you bloom, a feeling you couldn't recognize in yourself, but it was pink and warm and fuzzy all over. you couldn't help but wonder if he felt about you this way, too.

slowly, you noticed how, little by little, the gloomy cloud surrounding him would go away when he entered the classroom, how it would be replaced with a pink haze when he looked into your eyes, or made you laugh.. it would quickly fade away, but you'd notice, and noticed how much it resembled that feeling inside you: pink and warm and fuzzy all over.

as time went by, you got used to seeing him around, swinging by your classroom as if it was his haven, a small break from the world he knew, because you were in it. you'd be lying if you said he didn't make you day too, the gloomy atmosphere that once came along with him every time he entered your classroom slowly changing into a lilac haze.

one day, he showed up as the kids were leaving for the day, no colored cloud, but something seemed off. you invited him to sit down as he locked the door after getting in, his expression serene. before you could even speak his hands were on you, pulling you close to him in a hug, and you swore you could feel him shaking slightly. the realization hits you like a bucket of cold water and you just hold him tighter to you, since it feels like the only correct thing to do.

"you're scared."

"no one gets to see me like this, so feel special." said he, almost as if he was confiding a secret in you, which he was.

"oh, trust me, i feel quite special." you replied jokingly, which caused him to let out a chuckle, though it was dull and almost no feeling was tied to it.

you two let go and you asked him what was wrong, and he opened up like it was routine.

"i leave tomorrow. there's a mission out of state and they're asking me to go.. might be off the grid after that for a while." he explained, his voice remained calm but his eyes seemed to reveal to you more of how he was actually feeling.

"i dunno.. thought someone should've known in case.. things go south." your expression changed at that, and logan noticed. "ah, c'mon bub, change that frown, it's just reality. sure, i might be a piece of work to kill but it doesn't mean i can't die."

the silence that fell upon the classroom as you two finished speaking made the words fall with more weight into your heart, it did little to nothing to comfort you as you came to terms with what he said. it shouldn't have been hard - he was just stating a fact -, but it didn't mean that it didn't cut deep for you. you opened your mouth to speak, unsure of what you were even going to say, but he quickly cut you off.

"logan-" "listen, bub, you told me to start letting people into my heart.. i'm letting you in."

slowly, his hands went to unclasp the chain that always dangled on his neck, dog tags adorning his neck with his names, his identities. you looked in awe as he held them out to you. "gimme your hand, kid." and surprisingly, you did as you were told, holding your hand out as he placed the piece on your hand, feeling the cold metal clink softly as it fell and heat up under the temperature of your palm. you looked up at him, unsure of what it meant, of what this changed between you two, but it felt undeniable, even if unspoken.

“now, these.. they’re very special, bub. a reminder of everything that happened that led to here.. and it’s leading me to you right now.” he explained. “feels right for you to have them, i guess.. keep them safe, kid.”

the silence that fell between you two again was more comfortable, filled with a newfound tension that left much to question, but it didn’t feel right to interrupt with all that noise yet. the only sound filling the room was the breathing and a faint humming of the white noise machine you kept in your room, next by the door. you opened up your mouth again, your mind utterly blank and filled with thoughts and questions at the same time, unsure of which one was going to breach through your mind to materialize out in the cold, tense air.

“.. why me? trust me, i’m flattered, but i’m no one special, logan..” you questioned, and it made him frown.

“you are special. you're special to me.” your eyes widened at the confession and you watched as a soft smile settled on his face, one that made your heart flutter with the sheer tenderness he held in his gaze. “call it what you want.. just know these are yours now.” he said it so calmly, you wouldn't have tought he was handing you his heart, placing it in soft, tender hands and pleading you to not break it, not change it, and instead embrace it and accept it as it came, rough around the edges.

with that, he stood up from the chair, took your hand to squeeze it briefly, and walked out of the room, not before looking back at you one last time, the heaviness that he carried as he entered the room seemingly gone, all that you could perceive was a haze, all too familiar, one that left as quick as it came as his eyes met yours.

pink, warm, and fuzzy all over.

additional author's note: BOOM SHAKALAKA I POSTED FINALLY!! i think it's a little rushed BUT!! it's cause i have a (smutty) part 2 planned for this HEHEJEHE i don't like writing (or reading) series bcs i get sad when they end but i just might.... hehehe... anyway pls lmk what u think!! or i kill off logan 🥰🥰 your choice 🥰🥰

taglist: @allen-444

[ghostofhyuck]

surprising boyfriend! nct dream with a sexy concept for your comeback. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

‧˚ʚ ───────── ₊‧꒰ა ୨ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊ ───────── ɞ˚‧

AN: think of this as a comeback stage! so bf! dreamies are watching from the backstage. Also I did crop Minnie and Winter for the photo moodboard, sorry. (secret relationship btw)

Mark Lee

Mark will be surprise that you were doing a sexy concept that he stood up from his seat so fast that the plastic chair fell. Mark's brain had a short-circuit moment because even though you were wearing a sleeveless top and slacks, the choreography was so sexy that the Dreamies watched him clear his throat a hundred times throughout your stage. When you two met backstage, he couldn't utter a word to you, still in the state of shock because of your performance.

Huang Renjun

Renjun was surprised when you two met backstage and you're wearing a short dress, he can see that you would try to pull it down so that your safety shorts wouldn't be seen. He looks at you with concern especially because it's his first time seeing you do a sexy concept. He asked you if you're okay with it and you only smile at him, assuring him that you're okay with the concept but your dress is what you're uncomfortable about. Renjun could only give you encouraging words before you leave for the recording.

Lee Jeno

Jeno watches you from the backstage with that 'dad stance' (you know, standing with his hands on his hips lol) but everyone can see the proud smile on his face as he watches your comeback stage. He knows that you're doing a sexy concept and you were excited about it! That's why your boyfriend is also excited for you. His eyes never left you and he looks so lovestruck especially during your solo parts. When you two met backstage, he gives you a hug and tells you that you look sexy back there!

Lee Donghyuck

Haechan cannot do anything but to sulk as he watch your comeback stage. You were too pretty and sexy! And the choreography was something else, that he could only scream when the part was too sensual. He wanted to gatekeep you so bad and even convinced the Dreamies to not look at you. (They told him that he's being dramatic.) So when you two met backstage, you weren't able to say hi because Haechan covered you quickly with his padded jacket.

Na Jaemin

"That's my girl!" Jaemin shouts the moment you two met backstage. You only raised at eyebrow because of how loud your boyfriend was, he will tease you nonstop because it's your first time doing a sexy concept. Even copying your moves and part, making you embarrassed with his antics. At the end, Jaemin asked if you two can film a dance challenge for your comeback because he loves the choreo so much.

Zhong Chenle

Chenle would probably do that soccer dad type of clap when your performance was finished. He would even scream when they feature you as the ending fairy, pointing you and telling everyone that your his girlfriend. That's why when you visited their room, he'll clap so loud that you'll be embarrassed. He'll hype you nonstop and telling you that you did great with your comeback stage! You were in relief because weeks earlier you started having doubt about whether you can pull the sexy concept or not, and with your boyfriend's assuring words, you had nothing to worry about.

Park Jisung

Jisung would be flustered when he discovered that your concept was sexy. The streetwear outfits were deceiving. So when he was watching your comeback stage, he looks like a lost chick with the eyes wide and open mouth, he would cover it with his hands from time to time until your performance is finished. When you two met, you asked for his thoughts, but you saw how he's so flustered with your performance! In the end, he told you that the choreography was great, like genuinely great in his opinion.