#if nobody likes this i will start reaching out

[demie90s]

Inspo from my pookie wookie: @xxsnowxx213 😘

Girls Need LoVe

Juju Watkins x Fem!Reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: You and JuJu have been dancing around each other for months—close friends, constant teasing, lingering stares and late-night texts that never cross the line.

Genre: Slow-burn tension, emotional intimacy, buildup to smut

Warnings: SMUT. Heavy sensual tension, implied dom!juju, suggestive dialogue, mature themes, soft begging, SMUT.yearning, power shifts, emotional vulnerability

Word Count: ~ 3.4k

I didn’t think much of her at first.

JuJu was just one of those people—always around, quiet like me, head down in class but still somehow known. She played ball, obviously. You could tell just by the way she walked—shoulders loose, hoodie low, always stretched out across two chairs. She wasn’t loud. Never tried to take up space. Just… existed in it so naturally, you noticed.

We had a mutual friend. Aaliyah. She talked enough for all three of us, always dragging one of us across campus for something dumb like free smoothies or “mandatory air”—whatever that meant. I’d usually be trailing behind, earbuds in, hoodie up, letting Liyah do her thing while JuJu walked a few paces ahead, earbuds in too.

We never really spoke. Not until one class when Aaliyah wasn’t there.

I remember the professor was rambling about something dumb—citations, or sources, or whatever—and I leaned over, just barely, and said under my breath, “Did you hear what he said?”

JuJu didn’t even blink. “Yeah. Basically we just gotta write the essay and pretend we learned something.”

That was it. No awkward pause. No fake laugh. Just easy.

I nodded. She nodded. We went back to listening—or not listening. And that was the first real moment. After that, it was like something just… shifted. Subtle. Quiet. Nothing dramatic.

We’d pass each other in the hallway and do that little chin nod. A soft “hey.” A low “yo.” Never loud. Never forced. Then somehow—weeks later—I found myself in her apartment on a Thursday night, shoes off, legs tucked under me, drinking whatever she handed me while some documentary played in the background.

No Liyah. No excuse. Just… us. It wasn’t deep. Not then. I think we both just liked the silence. The way it wasn’t uncomfortable. The way we didn’t need to fill it up.

She’d sit on the floor, back against the couch, hoodie sleeves rolled up, scrolling through her phone while I sat on her bed or leaned across her kitchen counter. Sometimes we’d talk. Sometimes not. Sometimes I’d tell her about volleyball—how my coach was tweaking, how my shoulder was sore, how I almost socked a girl in practice. She’d laugh under her breath and nod, then tell me how she dropped 20 that week and nobody even noticed.

But most of the time, we just… existed. And I liked that. I liked her. Even if I didn’t say it. Hell, even if I couldn’t.

Because I’m not bold. Not like that. You gotta come to me direct or I’ll skip right past it like it wasn’t even there. I don’t do circles. I don’t drop hints. I don’t chase. Either you want me or you don’t. She never pressed.

She didn’t flirt. Didn’t try. But her eyes would linger. Her leg would bump mine under the table. Her hand would brush against my thigh when she reached for the remote, and neither of us would move.

It started with space. Or lack of it.

Not in a dramatic way—there was no sudden moment where we locked eyes and the air shifted. It was more like… gravity. Every time we hung out, we just ended up closer. I’d be on the bed and she’d be on the floor, but by the end of the night, we’d be sitting shoulder to shoulder, legs brushing, passing chips or scrolling TikTok with the same half-dead expression.

Sometimes, my knee would lean into hers and I wouldn’t move it. Sometimes, her thigh would press against mine when we sat side by side and neither of us would shift. And I don’t know when I started holding her hand. I really don’t.

It wasn’t a thing. Not like that. I’d just reach for it—absentminded, maybe—while we watched something or sat in silence. I’d play with her fingers. Rub soft circles into her palm. Not looking at her, not saying anything. Just… feeling.

She never pulled away. Never said a word.

Sometimes I’d trace the line between her thumb and her wrist, dragging my finger up and down like it was nothing. Sometimes I’d compare our hands, press my palm to hers and hold it there, soft and still.

She’d let me.Aaliyah Noticed.

She never said anything—not out loud—but the way her eyes darted between us when I absently leaned into JuJu on the bench? Or the way she’d pause mid-sentence when I reached for JuJu’s hand and kept talking like nothing happened?

Yeah. She knew. She knew what we didn’t.

That we’d been gravitating toward each other since day one. That we were moving slow, but moving somewhere. That our silence wasn’t just silence—it was safety. That I didn’t touch anybody, and JuJu didn’t let anybody touch her like that. But somehow, with us, it was second nature.

I remember one day Aaliyah left early, said she had to meet with her group for a project. Me and JuJu didn’t even flinch—we just kept watching TV in her dorm, same routine, same quiet comfort. At one point, I rested my head on her shoulder and didn’t think twice. Her hand found mine again, like it knew where to go.

And still—nothing was said. But we both knew.

I knew what she was doing. She didn’t tell me—didn’t owe me that—but I’m not slow. I saw the shift.

The short replies. The missed hangouts. The way she suddenly had “plans” on nights we always spent together. I didn’t push. Just watched. Just waited.

It’s not like we were together. Not really. We weren’t anything, technically.

But I knew JuJu. I knew the way she carried stress in her shoulders, the way her eyes got low when something was eating at her, the way she pulled back when she was trying to convince herself she didn’t need something.

Or someone. And that’s exactly what she was doing. Trying every solution that wasn’t me.

I heard about the guys. Not from her. Never from her. But word travels. Little whispers. A party here, a hookup there. Some athlete from another school. Some rapper with too many followers. All of them trying.

And none of them were me. None of them touched her like I could. Calmed her like I could. None of them saw her.

They tried to fuck her pressure out. But you can’t fuck away what you never understood. She understood me. But she didn’t know how to ask. She wasn’t bold with her feelings. Only her game.

wasn’t gonna beg. Not when I knew she’d come eventually. So I watched her spiral. Cool. Collected. A little more distant every day. And I let her have it—her little flings, her distractions. Let her go out, let her come back empty.

But I noticed when she stopped talking in class. When she stopped sitting close. When her laugh faded from full-bodied to fake. I noticed the silence. And I knew what it meant.

She was running out of ways to avoid the thing she really needed. Not some pretty boy. Not some soft lie. Me. And when she finally came—quiet, tired, heavy with the weight of all the shit she didn’t want to say—I didn’t say “I told you so.”

I just made room.

Her keys hit the floor. No words. No greeting. Just the heavy slam of her bag, the dull clink of keys skidding across my dorm carpet, and JuJu walking straight past me without a word.

I looked up from my laptop, blinking. “Hey—?”

She didn’t answer. Just walked to the edge of my bed, hoodie half-off, headphones still hanging around her neck. She dropped onto the mattress like she hadn’t slept in days.

Which… maybe she hadn’t. Finals were around the corner. Practices had doubled. Interviews. Scrimmages. Papers. Expectations. Everyone wanted something from her. And she hadn’t said a damn thing, but I could feel it.

It clung to her skin like sweat.

“You good?” I asked, quieter this time, turning to face her.

She nodded once. A little too fast. I closed my laptop. Didn’t ask again. Instead, I sat beside her. Not touching. Just close. Letting her breathe. Letting the room stay silent until she was ready.

After a minute, she leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Her eyes looked darker than usual. Not angry. Not sad. Just… tired.

Then she said it. Low. Like it slipped out before she could stop it.

“I don’t think I can do this shit today.”

I glanced over. “School?”

“Everything.”

She finally turned her head. Her eyes met mine. And I swear—I swear—there was something different in the way she looked at me. Like she was asking me something without saying it.

Like she was telling me something I already knew. My heart slowed. My breath did, too. I reached for her hand.

Didn’t say anything. Just took it, gently. Held it in my lap, started tracing the lines like I always did—her fingers, her knuckles, her callouses. This time, she didn’t just let me.

She pulled me closer. Not by much. Just enough for our shoulders to touch. For her thigh to press against mine. For her breath to brush my cheek.

“I don’t wanna think right now,” she muttered.

I swallowed. “Then don’t.”

“…Can I stay here tonight?”

I nodded, barely breathing. “Yeah. Of course.”

Another pause. Then she whispered— “Come here.”

She kissed me like she was trying to test the waters—but baby, the water was already boiling.

That first kiss was soft. Almost shy. Like her lips were asking a question her pride wouldn’t say out loud. Just a brush. A hover. A pause. My breath caught.

And then she kissed me again—harder. No more questions.

I whimpered into her mouth before I could stop myself, because the way she grabbed the back of my neck? The way she shifted her weight and swung a leg over my lap like it was hers? Owned me.

I was already gone. She was kissing me like she had something to prove, and I let her. Her tongue was in my mouth before I even knew I opened it. Her hands gripped my wrists and dragged them up under her shirt, planting them over her stomach, her ribs, her chest—wherever she wanted me. I wasn’t leading this. She was. And she didn’t care how needy I got under her—only that I stayed there.

She kept grinding. Slow at first. Then harder. Every roll of her hips made my head fall back, mouth open, practically moaning into her kiss like I needed her to breathe.

And when she pulled back just to look at me—face flushed, lips swollen, pupils blown—I was already begging without a word. Standing she removed her sweats letting them drop.

She smirked. Then climbed up. Didn’t ask. Didn’t check.

Just moved, swung her leg over my shoulders, and sat on my face.

And yeah. I moaned. Loud.

I mouthed her through the fabric of her panties, already soaked, and I couldn’t help myself—I looked up at her, hot and wrecked. That was all she needed.

She pulled them to the side and gripped the headboard like she knew she was about to lose control. And I gave it to her. Messy. Eager. Obedient. My tongue moved like it knew her body already, like I wanted her to use me—and she did.

She rocked against my mouth like she had somewhere to be, gasping every time I moaned into her pussy, every time I let my hands slide up her back and grab her waist just to pull her down harder.

She didn’t stop. Didn’t hold back.

Every bit of frustration, every ignored emotion, every fake ass hookup she tried to make work before this—she poured it into me. Into my tongue. Into the grind of her hips. Into the way her voice cracked when she said, “Fuck, you really like this.”

And I just looked up at her with spit on my chin and hungry eyes like, you have no idea. Because truth is? I could’ve came just from the taste.

From the weight of her thighs around my head. From her voice, ragged and high, whispering my name like a threat. From the way she held my face like she needed me.

And when she came I didn’t stop. Just eased her through it. Pressed little kisses to the inside of her thigh, humming low like she was my favorite song.

She was shaking. And I was smiling.

She tried to move. Tried to slide off like we were done. Like that one orgasm—loud, shaking, body-arching—was enough.

But I tightened my grip around her thighs and looked up like she had lost her damn mind.

“You really thought I was finished?” I said it low, voice wrecked, lips still wet from her. “Nah, baby. I’m not even close.”

JuJu blinked, still dazed, still breathless. But she was already trying to lean back, to shift—No.

I pulled her back down. Mouth open. Tongue ready. Pussy drunk like I had no shame left in me. Just hunger. Just the need to give.

And when I licked her again? Long. Deep. Desperate? She cried out.That sound? I swear it rewired my brain.

I couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t. I had both arms wrapped under her thighs now, locking her in like I’d die if she left. My mouth was working overtime, messy, soaked, humming against her until she was gasping and grinding, until she was whimpering my name like a prayer.

She grabbed the headboard with one hand. My hair with the other. Pulled hard.

And I moaned. Loud. Into her. Because that shit only made it worse. I wanted her to control me. To use me. To ride me like her sanity depended on it.Because mine already did.

She started rocking again. Rougher now. No hesitation. Like she finally gave in to the fact that I was hers.

And fuck—I was.

I was moaning like she was eating me. Tongue out, eyes half-lidded, tears building because the pressure was too much, because I was on the edge and she hadn’t even touched me.

But I didn’t care. I just needed her to cum again. Harder this time. Deeper.

I sucked her clit like it was oxygen. Let my tongue roll, flick, flatten. I didn’t even know what I was doing anymore. Just chasing that taste. That sound. That tremble.

And when she finally snapped—hips shaking, thighs squeezing, her voice gone raw as she tried to say my name? I came. No hands. No grind. Just from her.

From the way she let me take care of her. From the way she melted against my mouth. From the way she moaned for me like I was her favorite drug. I didn’t stop.

Even as my legs shook. Even as I cried out into her. Even as she tried again—tried—to pull away. No. She’s mine now.

And I’m not letting her go until I’ve licked her clean and made her cum again. And again.

And again. Because I could be good. So good. And tonight I was gonna be her healing.

I don’t even know how many times she came.

I just know my jaw’s aching, my mouth is raw, and my tongue is still out like I’m waiting for more. I’ve been down there so long I forgot what day it was. Forgot what I needed. All I know is her taste. Her thighs. Her voice. Her shaking.

And I’m still licking.

She came again—hard. The kind of hard where her whole body curled forward, chest heaving, hand slapping the pillow like she needed an anchor. She mumbled something that sounded like please, but I didn’t ask what she meant. I just kissed her through it, slower now, like I was saying thank you with every pass of my tongue.

Then finally—finally—she collapsed.

Fell right beside me on the bed, legs trembling, arms limp, head thrown back like she left her body somewhere in round three.

I crawled up after her. Still pussy drunk. Still glowing. Still grinning like I just saw heaven and got a second plate.

My lips found her jaw first. Then her cheek. Then her mouth. I kissed her deep. Slow. Wet. Like I needed to taste her all over again.

I gripped her jaw like I couldn’t hold myself back, my thumb sliding under her chin, angling her to feel me. My tongue chased hers, messy and slow and so in love, like she could’ve asked for my wallet, my car, my social, and I would’ve handed it over with a bow.

Because right now? I’d give her anything. Anything.

“You good?” I whispered, still rubbing soft circles into her side, still kissing between every word.

She didn’t answer. Just nodded, dazed and wrecked, her eyes barely open. So I kissed her again. On the lips. The corner of her mouth. Down her neck.

“Need somethin’?” I mumbled. “Water? My soul? A house? Say the word.” She laughed. Barely.

And I just smiled against her skin, pressing my hand to her stomach like I was grounding us both.

Because yeah. Girls need love. But right now? She needed this.

And I was never letting her go without it again.

She barely moved for five whole minutes after the last one. Just laid there with her chest rising slow, hands open like she forgot how to use them, sweat cooling on her skin while I traced soft circles on her stomach.

I should’ve given her a break. Should’ve let her drift off in peace. But I couldn’t stop kissing her.

Even when I finally got up to run us a shower, I leaned over and kissed her forehead. Then her shoulder. Then her lips again—couldn’t help it. She tasted too good. Felt too mine.

When I came back and helped her up, she let me guide her without a word. She was still hazy, body soft with aftershocks, her weight leaning into me like she finally knew she could.

I got her into the shower, warm and slow, and held her from behind while the water ran down both of us. She let her head rest back against my shoulder, and I swear, the second I kissed her neck again, she sighed like she missed it already.

“I can’t stop touching you,” I whispered, hands moving across her waist, brushing suds from her chest, down to her hips. “I know I should chill, but…”

She didn’t tell me to stop. So I didn’t.

Even as I rinsed her hair, massaged her shoulders, kissed that spot behind her ear—still. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. Not when I’d spent the last hour wrapped in her, tasting her, breathing her like air.

We dried off. Got into bed. No tension left now. Just heat. Comfort. The quiet buzz of skin on skin. She curled up facing me, hair still damp, her hand under her cheek like she was trying not to fall asleep mid-thought.

She blinked, slow. “Did you… y’know…?”

I grinned, slipping my hand under her shirt again, just to rub her side like it was my favorite thing in the world. “Yeah. You got that effect.”

She squinted, barely lifting her head. “From just…”

“Yup,” I said, smiling against her lips, voice soft but smug. “Didn’t even need anything else. You taste too damn good.”

She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t pull away when I kissed her again. Or when I kissed her again.

I wrapped my arms around her like I was never letting go, pressed my face into her neck, and whispered, “You ever need that again? You know where to find me.”

She didn’t say anything. But her hand slid up my back and stayed there all night.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog

[i-dared-myself]

Chaos in Shadows

ATEEZ x reader

Requested by anonymous: When you feel like, if you feel like, could you write ateez x 9th member when there's a power outage at the dorms and they all get flashlights and engage in chaos

“This stupid hairdryer never works,” Seonghwa complains to you as he fiddles with the machine in his hand. He groans and shakes it, as if that will help at all.

“Want to borrow mine?” you offer. “It works pretty well.”

“Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind.” Seonghwa flashes you a soft smile. He waits in the bathroom for you to return with your hairdryer, taking it from you gently.

“I like this one because it has this one setting-“ you begin, cutting yourself off as everything goes dark.

“Oh,” Seonghwa says in surprise. “Well… I guess we blew a fuse.”

Wooyoung comes stumbling in, smacking his face into the wall. “Guys! I’ve gone blind! Get help! Call an ambulance!”

“The power went out,” you tiredly tell him. “You’re fine. Just use your phone flashlight or something.”

“That’ll kill my battery so quick,” Wooyoung groans. “And I won’t be able to charge it if there’s no power!”

“I told you those flashlights I bought would come in handy!” Yeosang bursts into the bathroom, shoving a flashlight into everyone’s hands. He cackles manically as he flicks his on.

“It’s still an impulse buy,” Seonghwa points out. ��Just because it came in handy this once, doesn’t mean you should justify it.”

Yeosang pouts. “Okay, but we could tell ghost stories now.”

“How about we find the others first and make sure nobody fell down the stairs?” you suggest, turning your flashlight on. The group all mutters agreement and begins the hunt.

San is easy to find. He’s doing push-ups in the dark bedroom just outside the bathroom, crying to himself. When the flashlight’s beam of light illuminates his form, he sits up.

“You guys came!” he exclaims, wiping the tears off his face. “I heard whispering in the bathroom and lights in the doorway crack and- and-“

“And you thought it was demons,” Wooyoung finishes.

San’s cheeks flush a bright pink and he reaches for one of Yeosang’s spare flashlights. “Shut up.”

“Aw, was big tough San scared?” you tease gently, knowing that he’s actually such a softie.

San glares at you before exiting the bedroom and into the hall. “Let’s find the others.”

The group wanders through the darkness together, clinging tightly. You have both San and Seonghwa hiding behind you, while Wooyoung fearlessly leads the way.

“My hair is still wet,” Seonghwa grumbles. “I’m going to get sick and die.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Yunho scoffs and pads down the stairs. Yeosang leans on you to avoid falling.

A head peeks up from behind the couch, and a shine of the flashlight reveals it to be Jongho. He climbs over the couch, rolling across the floor to join your little squad. He stumbles to his feet, straightening his jacket to look cool.

“I did that on purpose,” Jongho mutters, dusting himself off. “The floor roll was on purpose.”

“Uh-huh,” San says, sounding not convinced at all. “Sure. And I finished watching Star Wars.”

Seonghwa narrows his eyes, catching the sarcasm. “You promised me! You said you liked it, too!”

“Calm down,” Yunho interjects before Seonghwa can start ranting about the cinematic masterpiece that is Star Wars. “We still need to locate the others.”

Jongho is given a flashlight as well, and the group moves on. You have collected five out of eight of the boys, with only three left to go.

You suddenly hear a crash from the kitchen, and your heart skips a beat. Kitchen + crash in the dark = someone getting stabbed. You all exchange glances before sprinting in the direction of the sound.

The flashlights show that no one was murdered, but Hongjoong is lying on the floor with Wooyoung strewn atop him. They both look dazed, with a puddle of milk beneath them.

“What happened?” Seonghwa worriedly asks, kneeling next to the two fallen members. He shines his light into their eyes.

“Wow, you know how to check for concussions?” You ask in amazement, watching him in awe.

Seonghwa blinks up at you. “No. I’m not a doctor.”

“Then what are you doing?” Hongjoong pushes Seonghwa’s hand away, rubbing his face. He pinches the bridge of his nose with a pained groan.

“Being helpful,” Seonghwa says with a shrug as he stands up. “And I think it worked, because you’re fine now.”

Wooyoung gets to his feet, staring down at the milk puddle. “Huh. I guess that’s what happens  when you try to cook in the dark.”

San scoffs. “The power’s out! You can’t even cook!“

Wooyoung cocks his hip out to the side, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what the microwave is for. Obviously.”

“You were planning on microwaving milk?” Yeosang asks in a mix of surprise and horror. He pauses before frowning. “Like… Just milk, or…”

“With chocolate,” Hongjoong chimes in. “But the microwave uses electricity too so I guess it wouldn’t have worked anyway.”

“Let’s just find Mingi,” Yunho says with a heavy sigh. He glances down at the milk, scowling faintly. “Let’s clean this first.”

After dealing with the mess, using paper towels to not ruin any cloths, you shuffle off to the next room of the house. It’s empty, so you move on to the downstairs bathroom.

You warily push the door open, met with the sight of Mingi in the tub, bubbles up to his chest. He looks at you curiously, illuminated by scented candles.

“What’s up?” he asks, noticing the others behind you. “Are we going out? Because I can finish my stuff and get dressed.”

“The power’s out,” Jongho tells him. He squints at Mingi for a moment before adding, “You knew that, right?”

Mingi clears his throat. “Yeah, totally. That’s um, that’s why I have the scented candles.”

“And not because they smell good?” Seonghwa arches an eyebrow. “Because I remember you telling me that these ones smelled bad. You lied to me! You said you didn’t like them!”

Mingi purses his lips and toys with the bubbles. “Maybe they aren’t that bad…”

“Smells like an old lady,” Hongjoong murmurs, sniffing the air.

“You smell like an old lady!” Mingi snaps before taking a deep breath. He composes himself before looking back at Hongjoong. “I mean, they’re actually pretty nice.”

“I’m bored,” you announce. “Let’s play flashlight tag. It’s hide and seek, except you can run if you’re found. But if the light hits you, you’re out.”

Mingi jumps up, forgetting that he’s completely naked. “I want to play!”

Yeosang shrieks and covers his eyes, falling to the floor. “I saw his penis! I saw his penis! Someone bleach my eyes!”

Mingi grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist. “Whoops.”

“You don’t sound that sorry,” San dryly remarks, lifting Yeosang up off the ground. He whispers comforts to the traumatized man, escorting him out of the bathroom.

“Get dressed and then join us,” Hongjoong orders, shaking his head. “Don’t dick around- I mean, penis. No- not penis. I-“

You press your fingers to Hongjoong’s jaw, gently closing his mouth before he can say anything else. “Shh, just forget what you saw.”

Once Mingi has thrown his clothes on, everyone gathers in the living room. There is a very competitive game of rock paper scissors to choose who’s it, before Seonghwa has to stand in the corner while he counts. It’s a scramble to hide, and you manage to beat Yunho to the best hiding spot: the closet.

You can see through the crack as Seonghwa searches, immediately finding Wooyoung, who was just standing behind Seonghwa. You have no idea what the plan was there.

Hongjoong is an easy find as well, since his feet peek out from under the curtains. San is next, standing in a dark corner. You almost laugh as Seonghwa trips over Yeosang, who was just lying on the floor.

“You could’ve killed me!” Seonghwa chides Yeosang, but still checks to make sure he’s uninjured.

Seonghwa moves upstairs, coming back down with Jongho and Mingi trailing behind him. They have been defeated, but not you. You are the glorious champion, the one who shall beat all.

Seonghwa wrenches the closet door open, a smug look on his face. He shines the flashlight on you, grinning widely. “Caught you.”

You trudge over to the other losers, hanging your head. You don’t even care about the game anymore, ignoring Seonghwa as he locates Yunho. You’re still pouting as the flashlights are turned off, and everything goes dark.

“What are you guys doing?” you ask, snapping back to attention. “Guys?”

Then you’re pinned down, shouting in alarm as your hoodie is slightly lifted so cold hands can be pressed your abdomen. You kick and flail, but are ultimately unsuccessful in your attempts to get rid of them.

You hear San giggling before Jongho hisses at him to be quiet. You crawl away, only to be dragged back to the cold hands.

It’s a wrestling match from there, which goes on for several minutes. You’re out of breath by the end and panting on the ground.

The lights flicker back on, and everyone shields their eyes. You pick yourself up before sinking on the couch, quickly followed by the others. Everyone falls asleep together, just like that, exhausted from the shenanigans.

Taglist:

@velvetmoonlght @jinnie-ret @hansmic @imeverycliche @iwuberic @mbioooo0000 @ourtimeisrunningouttt @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @lezleeferguson-120

[boogersparkles]

THRIFTING WITH YUUKA (+ GRIM)

Summery: going down town to thrift with Yuuka and Grim

Genre: fluff, can be seen as both romantic and platonic

Words: 1206~

Notes: You and Yuuka are Grim's parents btw. I feel like this fanfic isn't as good as the other ones but I still hope you enjoy it. Constructive criticism is welcomed :)

You reallyyyy wanted to get out of NRC. Wanting to finally see what the Sage's Isle has to offer, you and your friends planned to go out together (mostly because they know where to go unlike you and Yuuka). Unfortunately your scheduals didn't aline with each other's and you also needed Crowley's permision to leave school grounds. But when you finally DID get his permision nobody could tag along.

So it was just you, Yuuka and Grim

Currently, you were chilling at a café after wandering around town. You were looking at a map on your phone trying to find a place to go next, while Yuuka was admiring the view of a nearby river and Grim was munching on a vanilla biscuit that came with Yuuka's coffee. After a bit of searching, you find a thrift shop that wasn't too far away from where you were.. and honestly? You were in need of new clothing and a new bag because your schoolbag was getting annoying to carry around.

"Hey, there's a thrift store nearby, wanna stop by?

"Sure, why not? I could wear something more comfortable than this uniform"

You get up from your seats after paying the waitress and make your way down the side walk. The scenery was beautiful, flowers blooming multiple colours and birds chirping as they swiftly flew in the breeze. Finally arriving at your destination, you noticed how the shop had more potted plants than it did on the GPS and that it was now more of a warm beige colour compaired to the pale yellow walls you saw. Despite that, you can tell that it was the same shop with the ivy green roof that stuck out like a sore thumb next to all the red ones.

When you entered the shop, the door hits the small bells that hunged from the ceiling, notifying the olive-skinned woman who was cleaning a glass lamp of your entrance. She greets you cheerfuly, the wrinkles around her eyes becoming more evident when doing so.

"Welcome! Looking for anything specific?"

"Could you tell us where the clothing aisle is?"

"Just down the hall to the right"

Despite the exterior being small the interior was surprisingly big. Walking down the hall, you pass by various furniture and trinkets. There were antiques, handmade items and things that you would probably see at Sam's shop.

"Everyting here is so odd yet interesting.."

"Ya think that lady is related to Sam somehow?"

"Oh for sure"

Going up to the line of clothes, you see that the shirts were organized by colour while the pants were separeted by fabric.

"This place sure has variety"

"I just want something comfy to wear when I sleep. Those NRC PJs are way too ichy"

Suddenly, Grim pops out from one of the racks, seemingly proud of what he had found. Walking towards you, he shows you a long sleeved shirt in your favorite colour, kinda like how a kid would show their parent their first ever drawing.

"Wacha think of this shirt? You mentioned how much you like this colour, sooo... I thought you'd like it"

He said that last line a little bashfuly but his eyes still seeked out your approval. You feel the shirt's fabric, it's neither thick or thin, a perfect balance for layering or to just wear regulary. You taught the arts of thrifting to your son well.

When you were looking, you found a black compresion shirt with yellow lines on each sleeve that started from the shoulders and ended all the way down to the hands. Yuuka might need this since she works out, especialy during colder weather. Turning around, you see Yuuka at the rack with trousers, she was holding a basic pair of grey sweatpants, deeply considering to buy it.

"Hey, this shirt matches the pants you picked out!"

"Why won't you look at that, I got a full workout outfit!"

She reaches out to grab the shirt by the hanger.

"Maybe we can find an outfit for you too, so we can jog together in the morning"

"Yuuka, I love and care for you very much. But I'm NOT waking up at the asscrack of sunrise just to jog"

She laughs at your statement, but you were dead serious. It wasn't like she was alone anyway, she would go jog with Jack and occasionaly Deuce at the school's field.

Anyway, you still sort of struggled to find a replacement for those atrocious so called pijamas. You were upset that your prayers to the thrift gods went unanswered but then... Like gold surrounded by coal, like a star in the night sky, you find a white oversized t-shirt that looks like it was cut to have an off-the-shoulder neckline with a cute little kitty in the middle. The fabric was very soft, it almost remindes you of Grim's fur when he's freshly bathed. Welp, no more iches at that specific spot on your back that you can't reach!

Happy with what you have found, you decided to explore the rest of the shop too. You even found a little corner with items for pets and ended up playing dress up with Grim. While you were styling him, Yuuka was taking photos and clips of Grim's catwalk like a parent at their kid's play.

Along with the clothes, you also buy Grim a blue colar bedazzled with silver square studs and a toy mouse that he couldn't stop eyeing. You were a little bumbed out because you didn't find any bag that you liked, but the shop wasn't going anywhere so you could cone back anytime. As you were deep in thought, you relize that the bags you were caring were now replaced with a tote bag littered with different kinds of flowers

"I'm surprised you didn't see this one hiding in the back"

She said teasingly with a playful smirk

"Wait, when did you buy this?"

"Right after you got out of the shop"

Huh, you didn't notice her at all! Whatever, it was a pleasant surprise so you don't mind, but it does catch you off guard when she sneakily surprises you like that. It's sometimes endearing but most of the time it's just blatant teasing.

Regardless of her antics, you were getting a little hungry, but until you reach home you would probably be famished. So, you go grab some food for dinner and some extra canned tune from a mini market. Stores started to close and you booked a taxi because you were NOT walking all the way up to NRC. The ride home was going smoothly and you were looking outside the window while Yuuka was texting on her phone and Grim was snoozing away on your lap. You were starting to feel drowsy too, closing your eyes you lean your head on Yuuka's shoulder.

She softly huffs out a laugh and pulls you delicately closer by the arm, so your body is laying comfortably against hers.

But before you could fully fall asleep, Yuuka wispers to your ear.

"I'll wake you up when we get home"

[cobrakaisb]

an unkindness of ravens: season one

now playing: i don't want to be by gavin degraw

about one tree hill season one series masterlist

taglist: @yailtsv @jadasogay @iwantahockeyhimbo (reach out to be added)

wc: 3.5k

featuring: friends to lovers trope; the plot of one tree hill season one; mentions of coming out and a secret relationship; conversations about a car accident and someone in a coma; slight angst but mainly fluff; lowkey bullying, but not towards paige or reader

summary: junior year at tree hill was supposed to be fun. sure there's hard work, college preparations, and the normal teenage drama, but nobody was prepared for everything else. a lost championship, romantic revelations, and two brothers connecting in ways bigger than the court.

paige bueckers is as well known as nathan scott in the basketball community. she plays on the men’s team (since tree hill high doesn’t have the funding, or fanbase for a women’s one) and continues to put up crazy stat lines: 21 points, 11 assists, 5 steals. she’s also your girlfriend, and extremely down bad for you.

you’re the sweet and popular cheerleader of tree hill high; best friends with brooke davis and secretly dating paige bueckers.

the two of you are friends first, you always have been. growing up in a small town means everybody knows everybody, so it didn’t take long for your friend groups to intersect. brooke is friendly with peyton, who’s dating nathan, who is best friends with paige. that meant your paths were bound to cross at some point, and everyday you’re thankful that they did. paige is kind, loyal, and funny. she smiles in a way that makes your stomach flutter and your heart do jumping jacks. the more your groups intersect, the more you fall for each other. 

paige tells a joke, and she looks to see if you’re laughing at it. you search for an empty seat, and conveniently take the one next to her instead of brooke. you say hi to paige in the hallways, and she searches for you on the sidelines of her games in your cheer uniform.

you confess your feelings in the worst, yet most you way possible. you’re both a few drinks in at some party, and the words just tumble out.

“i like girls, and i’ve never told anybody that but i’m pretty sure it started when i was team bella in twilight. but now? now it’s definitely you.” “i think for me it was when i first saw you. in like middle school, with some justice outfit. i don’t remember, but i remember thinking that i wanted you.” “what if we just like kissed? then we’d have each other?”

then paige kisses you. it starts soft and slow, with a tiny bit of uncertainty. there’s no tongue, no teeth, just your lips pressed to hers while you both stay planted on the curb outside nathan’s house. then, it shifts. you turn to face her, she pulls your body closer. you hands grip her shoulders, fisting her tree hill warm up jacket, and hers hold the back of your neck. then the kiss becomes more intense. you want her, and she wants you. when you split apart, eyes dazed, she pulls her keys from her pocket, and holds them up like a trophy.

“want to go to my car?” you agree, easily. and while you would never believe it, this is the easiest it gets. 

the basketball season is in full swing, but of course, whitey always has something up his sleeve. so, when lucas scott, nathan’s half brother, is offered a spot on the team, nathan is ballistic. paige, ever the loyal one, feels the need to stand by her best friend’s side, no matter what. at least that’s what she tells you in the front seat of her car.

“i mean we don’t even know if he’s good, babe. and they have this whole rift going, which will definitely screw up the team’s mojo.” “maybe he’s good. i mean, he must play some type of ball if whitey even offered him a spot.” paige looks at you with raised eyebrows and an expression that can only be described as ‘are you serious’.  “c’mon. maybe he’s nice,” you try again. “it doesn’t matter if he’s nice, nathan is my best friend.”

somehow, you all end up at the rivercourt, watching lucas and nathan play for their spot on the team. you arrive with paige, nathan, and peyton. everybody is dressed casually; paige in gray sweats and a tee shirt, while you’re wearing jeans and a baby tee. you stand shoulder to shoulder with her, watching as lucas sinks basket after basket. lucas pulls up for the final jumper, the one he needs to take the lead and the win. everyone watches with baited breath; your arms crossed and paige’s jaw clenched. swish. nothing but net. 

“he’s good,” you observe. paige’s jaw remains clenched, “too good.” 

despite putting on a great show at the rivercourt, lucas doesn’t follow through in his debut game. he misses too many shots, causes too many turnovers, and does not live up to the hype that paige and nathan have set for the team. you almost feel bad for the guy, who is clearly trying his best, but now has to live up to the hype of his half-brother, and scrutiny of brooke davis.

“i’m sleeping with him. no questions asked.” “brooke,” you laugh, rolling your eyes.  “he’s handsome. c’mon you have to agree?” she says, nudging your shoulder.  you shake your head, a small smile on your face as you watch paige make a three point shot, despite being completely contested. “whatever you say, brooke.”

paige is always your ride home from practice. since the basketball team plays on one side of the gym while the cheer squad perfects their routines on the other. between drills, paige catches herself watching you doing back handsprings and cartwheels. she has to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling. sometimes, you watch her, focused on her toned arms and the authority in her voice as she calls out plays. miraculously, no one ever catches you making eyes across the gym. nobody except lucas scott, who is way too observant.

one day, while leaving practice, he catches paige waiting by the locker room doors for you. he watches as she grabs your cheer bag in one hand, and holds your left hand. he sees how you smile at her, whispering about the shots she made at practice, and how she smiles wider when you lean into her side. then, paige opens the passenger door to her car, and you climb in. instead of closing the door right away, she leans down, and presses her lips to yours. you giggle, say something about how you’re sweaty from practice, and she responds with a quip about how she likes you that way. finally, she shuts the door, looks over her shoulder, and makes eye contact with lucas. paige’s eyebrows furrow, like she’s testing him, but he just holds his hands up in surrender. he brings it up at practice the next day:

“she’s your girlfriend,” he says in line for a drill. “i don’t know what you think you saw, scott, but it’s none of your business,” paige grumbles, catching the ball before taking her shot. she gets back in line, and lucas follows her after his turn. “i’m not gonna tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about. it’s not my place.”  “yeah, it’s not,” she snaps.

when nathan wants to haze lucas, paige almost feels bad. almost. yes, he hasn’t told anyone about her relationship with you, but that doesn’t mean she trusts him. and when everyone turns around to leave him behind, soaked in mud, she hesitates for just a split second.

“let’s go!” nathan calls. she hesitates, watching the blonde boy standing in front of her.  “paige!” he calls again, and she finally turns around. 

a couple weeks later, nathan is hosting a party after one of their games. somehow, paige convinces him to invite lucas, claiming that it’s the right thing to do since he’s part of the team. at the same time, you’re stuck convincing paige to go, even though she would probably be in attendance anyways. 

“so…nathan is having a party tonight,” you say, walking up to paige’s locker in the middle of the school day. “yes he is,” she mumbles, closing her locker as you lean against the one next to hers.  “well, are you going? brooke and i are catching a ride with peyton,” you ask, an excited gleam in your eyes.  “babe, i’m on the team,” she starts, before leaning in to whisper in your ear, “besides, everyone will be so drunk, i’ll have you all to myself.” 

that night, you find paige in the kitchen. she’s filling up a drink, and when she spots you, she extends the solo cup in your direction. you smile, taking the drink from her outstretched hand, fingers grazing hers as you shoot her a coy smile. she rolls her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips as she fills up her drink with the keg. the two of you keep sneaking glances across the room all night, until brooke drags you into a game of ‘i never’. it’s stupid, and you know it’s just an excuse for everyone to poke fun at each other, but you still find yourself standing in a circle with paige, nathan, peyton, lucas, and tim. brooke starts, but then nathan makes a dig towards lucas, and his relationship, or lack there of, with their dad. lucas clenches his jaw, and your mouth drops open at the cruelty behind nathan’s words. you look at paige, begging her to say something. 

“that’s enough nathan,” she grumbles. nathan’s eyes widen, and he looks just the slightest bit betrayed.  “that was mean,” you whisper before walking away, paige following you to the back deck.  “you didn’t have to follow me,” you whisper, finishing the rest of your drink. “nah, nathan was pissing me off,” she says, taking a spot next to you.  you turn to face her, “you stood up for lucas. why?” she hesitates, her tongue poking the inside of her cheek, “he saw us, in the parking lot, but hasn’t said anything. he could’ve, but he didn’t, so i owe him one.”  you open your mouth to say something; defend the fact that keeping your relationship a secret is the right choice, but she stops you.  “besides, he’s actually a good player.” “i just need more time,” you say softly.  “i know,” she answers, “but that doesn’t mean i like hiding you.”

a couple weeks later, you are sitting with peyton and brooke at another party. the three of you are drinking, while peyton and brooke share stories about whatever guy they’re into. brooke, who’s hell bent on getting lucas to fall for her, is talking about another attempt to get him into her bedroom. you nod, trying to follow along, but you’re focused on paige, who’s standing with nathan at the bonfire. she’s wearing cargoes, and a hoodie with the sleeves pushed up. you watch as she laughs at something he says, shoving his shoulder while some of their teammates laugh. 

“you have something to share with the class?” brooke teases, nudging you. you clear your throat, looking away from your girlfriend, before shaking your head. “oh come on! you’ve totally been making eyes at bueckers all night. you dating her or something?” peyton jokes.  you realize that this is your chance, and you take it: “yes, we are,” you whisper.  “wait…” brooke says, her drink hanging limply in her hand, “like actually?” you nod, finishing off your drink, “like actually.”  they’re silent for a minute, but eventually brooke wraps you in a hug. you blink back the tears you didn’t even realize you were holding in, and then peyton joins in too.  “i mean she’s hot, so i get it,” brooke whispers, and you giggle.  “obviously not as hot as me, but hot nonetheless,” she finishes.  “brooke,” you whine, shoving her away in a playful manner.  “oh she’s looking over her. i think you’re being summoned,” peyton teases, pointing over at paige, who is now looking at you. 

you meet her gaze, a soft smile on your face, before excusing yourself from the group. when you walk over there, paige has a soft expression on her face, but she’s masking it by raising her eyebrows. you step into her space, and paige casually wraps her arm around your waist. 

“that’s my cue to leave,” nathan mumbles, leaving the two of you alone by the fire. “you okay?” she asks softly, her fingers running up and down your side.  “i told them. brooke and peyton,” you confess, a small smile overtaking your face.  her eyes widen, “you did?” “i did,” you confirm.  paige stares at you for a minute, disbelief but also awe on her face.  “can i kiss you?” she asks, cupping your face as her drink drops onto the sand.  “if you didn’t, i was going too,” you mumble, pulling her face to yours as your lips meet. 

despite coming out to brooke and peyton, the two of you decide that it’s best to hold off on revealing your relationship to the whole school. the people closest to you know: brooke, peyton, nathan, and your families. plus lucas, who accidentally caught you and paige flirting in the school parking lot weeks ago. surprisingly, things outside of your relationship are going well. paige, nathan, and lucas are starting to gel on the court, creating a scoring powerhouse for the ravens. you’re thriving on the cheer team, finding a new love and passion for the sport, but maybe that has to do with who you’re cheering for. then, tragedy strikes. 

“lucas got into a car accident!” paige shouts, and you can hear the sound of her car door slamming in the background of the call.  “what?” you screech, putting your book down as you scramble off the bed.  “he got into an accident while driving to pick up his mom. nathan just called to tell me. we’re going to the hospital now,” she explains, you can hear the rattling of her truck down the street. “come get me,” you say, wedging your phone between your shoulder and ear as you slip into your shoes.  “babe i don’t know…” she trails off. “paige,” you start, “he’s your friend. i know you’re upset. let me be there for you,” you finish.  paige takes a deep breath, “okay.”  

you and paige end up in lucas’s hospital room, surrounded by his mother and brooke davis. you share a glance with paige at the sight of brooke, who looks extremely disheveled while holding back tears. both of you ignore it for now, instead focusing on your friend, who is laying in a coma. paige holds you close, burying her face in your shoulder as she struggles to keep her own tears at bay. you squeeze her tightly, whispering consoling words.

a few days later, lucas is released from the hospital. paige is dragging her feet about visiting him.

“i just feel like we aren’t close,” she explains, throwing a small basketball in the air as she lays on your bed.  “paige,” you say, putting your pencil down, “he’s your teammate, and friend. it’s not weird.”  “i wouldn’t say we’re friends,” she grumbles, which she only does when she knows you’re right.

neither of you end up at lucas’s, however, as brooke appears in your doorway. her cheeks are tearstreaked with mascara. you jump up from your desk, pulling brooke into your arms. she starts crying even harder, and you rub her back in an attempt to console her. paige is sitting up on your bed now, looking like she wants to leave. just as she gets up, brooke confesses everything: how lucas broke up with her for peyton, your other best friend. your mouth drops open, and paige’s jaw clenches as she listens to brooke sob over this boy, who really doesn’t deserve an ounce of her attention. when brooke finally calms down, falling asleep on your bed, paige turns to you and whispers:

“this is why i won’t call lucas my friend.” 

paige keeps that mentality for a surprisingly long time. all the way until the away game in charlotte, which also coincides with the major cheer competition. you’re already jittery with nerves, rambling about back handsprings and perfecting your routine constantly. the entire time paige nods her head, pretending like she understands exactly what you’re saying. (spoiler alert: she doesn’t) meanwhile, the tension between nathan and lucas, boils over, especially since the former is officially dating haley. 

“paige, you know i’m right,” nathan says, dragging her into the brothers' argument.  “no. she knows you’re wrong,” lucas chimes in.  the two start to bicker again, but paige stops them: “enough! i’m sick of being in the middle. i’m friends with two idiots, and i’m not taking any sides!” paige looks like she wants to say more, but you walk into the room looking rattled.  “what happened?” paige asks, leaving the brothers behind as she walks up to you.  “theresa has the chicken pox! and now we’re totally gonna lose,” you rant. paige can see the anxiety on your face, so she pulls you into her arms. “that’s not true babe, you’ve been practicing your back tuck," she whispers.  “back handspring,” you correct absentmindedly.  “what?” she says with a small laugh.  “i’ve been practicing my back handspring, not my back tuck. those are easy,” you mumble, a shy smile on your face as paige throws you a knowing look.  “i think you’re gonna be fine,” she teases. 

while keeping your relationship on the downlow is working, everything comes out at the annual ‘boy toy’ auction. the entire basketball team, paige included, participates in an auction where the entire town has the opportunity to win a night with one of the boys. of course lucas, nathan, and jake are the most sought after, but you don’t expect people to be going after paige. until some girl raises her hand when whitey calls out paige’s name. 

“one hundred!” she shouts, holding the cash up in the air.  your jaw clenches, and you immediately out bid her: “one-twenty!” she gives you the side eye, but continues to up the price.  “brooke, give me your money,” you say between clenched teeth.  “but lucas,” she tries, but you cut her off with a stern look.  brooke hands you the cash, and you call out, “one-fifty.” the girl keeps upping the price, and paige keeps looking between the two of you like this is reality tv.  “two hundred!” you call, and everyone’s eyes widen.

whitey bangs the gavel, and it’s a done deal. you hand him the money, and then walk up to paige. she opens her mouth, like she wants to tease you, but you don’t let her get the words out. instead, you wrap your hands around her neck, and pull her into a heated kiss, right in front of the entire crowd. there’s a handful of gasps, and someone even wolf whistles. when you pull away, paige has a dazed look in her eyes, but you’re focused on the now embarrassed girl who thought it was a good idea to try and outbid you. 

after the auction, paige meets you in the gym. she gives you a shy smile, with a knowing look in her eyes. her cheeks are a little red as she notices all the eyes and whispers directed towards you. 

“are you mad?” you ask softly, biting your bottom lip.  paige shakes her head, “it was kind of hot,” she confesses. now it’s your turn for your cheeks to heat up, and you look down in embarrassment. “too much?” you whisper.  paige cups your cheeks, pulling you into a kiss in front of everyone again, “not enough,” she mumbles, as her lips brush yours.

the rest of the basketball season goes by in a blur. paige is a beast on the court, helping to lead her team to the playoffs alongside the scott brothers, who are finally on good terms. at the same time, she has you cheering for her on the sidelines. now that the cat’s out of the bag, you always wear her number, 5, on your right cheek, in the exact spot where paige kisses you right before taking the court. while paige pretends like it doesn’t affect her, hearing you cheer extra loudly when she scores a basket boosts her confidence. suddenly, it doesn’t matter that she’s the only girl playing in an all boys league, all that matters is you, standing by her side. especially when things get tough; especially when they lose the game. you hug her right after, pulling her close as her lanky arms wrap around your waist. 

“i’m sorry baby,” you whisper.  paige just nods, struggling to hold back her frustration at the night.  “at least dan doesn’t get the win,” you joke, which draws a chuckle from her.  “i just wanted to win for you,” she confesses later that night, when you’re both laying in her bed.   you turn on your side to face her, “you always make me proud, paige.” she smiles, turning to face you now. “everyone expects me to be great, but you don’t. you accept me for me, and it means the world to me,” she confesses. “paige,” you start, but she cuts you off.  “i know it’s stupid, but i wanted to win tonight for you, to say thank you, for always supporting me,” she finishes, a small blush on her freckled cheeks.  “i love you,” you whisper, kissing the tip of her nose. “but you never have to win to earn my love of validation. you already have all of it,” you explain.  

then, paige is kissing you. 

[gigilovesmovies]

f!reader x joost — they’ve been together for a while and now they’re engaged (!!) but like only the people close to us know...so they go on a cute lil picnic in the middle of nowhere just to escape for a bit 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️but LMAOO someone took pics from afar and POSTED THEM.suddenly everyone knows ...😭 they’re lowkey panicking but also kinda like ok wait… this is actually nice?? bc they were SO tired of hiding like

pls ignore if this is cringe BYE 🧍‍♀️💨

🩷🩷

Exposed!

Pairing: Joost Klein x fem!reader

Warning: bad writing and grammatical errors as always:

Summary: the request!

An:Thank you for the request!!! I love this kind of twist,hope you’ll like it;)

This is kinda bad I’m sorry 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Also I saw the angst(?)request with pregnancy,I just need a bit of time to develop the story around it,maybe I’m gonna put it in several parts idk yet

The kitchen was a mess,peels of fruit scattered everywhere on the kitchen counter along with some cheese, charcuterie and other snacks.

Me and joost decided to have a day off,his work was sucking all the energy and free time out of him,between producing new music,concerts,filming and editing his video clips,he didn’t have time for himself nor for me;his fiancee.

So going out for a picnic was the perfect plan to chill out,plus none of us wanted to waste such a sunny day and stay at home.

Which lead us to that messy kitchen.After a few minutes the kitchen was finally cleared,picnic basket ready and full of snacks and drinks.Us fully dressed and polished.We were finally ready to leave.

“God I feel like a teenager again”I say smiling, hoping on my bike,picnic basket secured on the bicycle cargo

Joost chuckled with a nod”Where are we even going”he asked

“Wherever the wind takes us”I answer jokingly

The road to the forest was a bit long but we had fun singing songs out loud probably messing the lyrics,attempting bicycles tricks and failing miserably at every attempt,until we finally reach the forest,found a cozy spot ,setting the white and red blanket and collapsing on it exhausted from the bicycle trip.

We were laying on our back discussing random things

“Oh look at this cloud,looks like a star”Joost said,munching on some grapes

“No” I shot back “it’s a cat”i blurted looking at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world

“It’s literally a star how can you confuse a cat with a star” he argued back pointing at the cloud slowly disappearing into the vaste blue sky.I raised my hand to hold his and smiled at him,he smiled back,his dimples showing,how cute!

“I missed you schat”he says turning to his side so he could face me,he started caressing my cheek slowly,then leaned stroking his nose against mine,then gave me a delicate kiss.

“Can you believe I’ll get to call you my wife in a few months” he asked with a bright smile,holding me closer to him,our legs now intertwined,his chest against mine,I could feel the rise and fall of his chest,the soft beat of his heart.

“I can’t wait”I answered,lost in his beautiful icy eyes.

We were mesmerised with each other’s company,totally cut out of the outside world,the only thing that mattered now was us,no work no nothing.

Hours passed,enough for us to watch the sun set,the beautiful mix of orange and pink hues,making the sky look like a giant cotton candy.We returned home,I was sat on the bed scrolling peacefully on my phone as Joost was brushing his teeth,getting ready for bed.

But suddenly a notification popped up,it was one of my close friends,she sent me a link and wrote with bold letters underneath it

“You need to see this y/nnnn”

Curious I open the link,it was a TikTok video with pictures of me and Joost hugging,one of them zoomed on my ring finger.The pictures were taken just today at our picnic spot.

“Oh my God,Joost!!” I call him alarmed,nobody except our friends and family knew we were dating,even less that we were engaged.

Joost came in running towards me”Are you okay baby what happened”

I couldn’t answer so I just handed him my phone”Fuck!”he exclaimed the tip of his ears turning to a reddish colour”What are we gonna do”

“I don’t know” I exclaimed,we opened the comment finding them full of curious,supportive,respectful and cute comments :

User7777:manifesting a cute moment with my future boyfriend

Joostkleinfan321:They’re so cute together UGH

Lilylovesmusic:WAIT are they engaged

Oliviaaa:Who is that?!!!Shes so cute,I don’t know if I wanna be her or be with her

After scrolling down at endless comments,we calmed down,we weren’t so stressed about it as much as we were

“What’s done is done right”I declare looking at joost who shrugged his shoulders and nodded

“Could be worse,plus it’s been so long”he answered smiling

That night we slept peacefully,even tho our secret was exposed at least everyone knew how much we truly loved each other.

[erikawrites13]

Just for show- “What Breaks, What Heals”

Part 6 –

So you know- "English is not my first language. I have dyslexia. Let me know what you think about it, please."

Charles Leclerc x Reader (longtime friend) Time line- Monaco—Charles’ hometown, where luxury meets intimacy. Warning! Context- Slow burn, flirty, emotional tension, with angst bubbling beneath the surface.

The room was still. Quiet, but heavy. Like the walls themselves were holding their breath.

Charles hadn’t let go of your hand since he started crying. His fingers were still wound tightly around yours, grounding him. And you didn’t let go, either.

His shoulders trembled under your touch as he finally pulled back from your embrace. His eyes were red and glassy, cheeks damp. But he didn’t try to wipe the tears away. He just looked at you.

"I don’t even know what’s wrong with me," he whispered, voice breaking. "I have everything. Everything I worked for. But I feel like I’m drowning. And nobody sees it."

Your chest ached.

"They see the podiums. The suits. The smile. But they don’t see me. Not really."

"I see you," you said. "Always have."

Charles looked away quickly, but you caught the way his chin trembled. His whole face twisted with something deeper. Older.

"I miss him so much sometimes I feel sick," he said suddenly, barely getting the words out. "Papa. Jules. I drive like I’m trying to reach them. Like if I win enough, I’ll feel close to them again. But I don’t. I just feel further away."

His voice cracked again, and another tear rolled down his cheek. He wiped at it roughly, like it betrayed him.

"I don’t let people see this side of me," he admitted. "Not even my family. But with you... it’s different. You look at me and I don’t feel like I have to fake it. You make me feel like I’m allowed to be human."

You reached up, gently brushing your thumb across his cheek, wiping away what was left of the tears. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut like he’d been starving for it.

"You are human, Charles," you whispered. "And you don’t have to carry all this alone. Not anymore."

His eyes opened again. They were shining, tired, but softer now. More open than you’d ever seen them.

"Sometimes I wish I could just disappear," he said quietly. "Run away from all of it. Just be with you somewhere quiet. Where no one’s watching."

You didn’t answer with words. You leaned forward and kissed him. Not out of pity. Not because he needed it. But because you did. Because this moment, raw and messy, was the realest thing you’d ever felt.

The kiss was tender at first. Slow. Lingering. But when his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you in like he was afraid you’d fade if he let go, it deepened.

There was desperation in it. Not lust, but ache. A need to be held, understood, known.

When you finally pulled back, breath mingling, Charles rested his forehead against yours.

"You make it stop hurting," he murmured.

You ran your fingers through his hair, holding him there. "No, my love I just make it safe enough for you to feel it."

His breath caught at that. At the word: love.

"I think I’ve loved you longer than I’ve let myself admit," he said, barely above a whisper. "And I think that terrifies me more than anything else."

You kissed him again, gentler this time. "It doesn’t have to be scary. It can be soft. We can figure it out together."

He nodded slowly, eyes never leaving yours. His fingers traced the inside of your wrist, like memorizing it.

"I don’t want to pretend anymore," he said. "Not about you. Not about us."

Then he smiled. Just barely. But it was real. The first one that didn’t look practiced.

You smiled back. "Good. Because I’m not going anywhere."

And neither was he.

So what do you think? A next part or?

[writing-for-soup]

A Man and His Horse - Charthur Fic

“That cannot be true,” Charles said, chuckling dismissively as he ushered Taima up a ridge. They were getting close; the mountain river Arthur’d heard about was supposed to be a great spot for salmon.

This endeavor all started that afternoon, when Charles had quietly cornered Arthur by his lean-to. Dutch’s favorite enforcer had been out on a job for the last ten days when he’d finally ridden into camp looking grimy and grisly and gorgeous.

To say Charles was…pent up at this point would have been an understatement. He was practically vibrating with anticipation to see his man in the flesh again. It’d been nothing but cold nights and his own hand for far too long. Not wanting to appear overeager, however, Charles waited at least a couple of hours before he approached Arthur.

“Successful trip?” he asked, watching as Arthur dunked his head and scrubbed his face at his wash station. Arthur looked up to him from his stooped position and grinned, his strikingly clear eyes framed perfectly by dewy wet lashes. Charles had to press his fingernails into the meat of his palm to avoid reacting.

“Was wonderin’ when you’d come see me,” he replied, straightening to dry himself off, cocky grin still intact, “I missed you.”

“Arthur-” Charles warned, looking around to ensure nobody was within earshot.

“I know, I know, no need for your serious voice,” Arthur grumbled, waving Charles off with one hand while he started working on the buttons of his shirt, “It was successful, thank you for askin’.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Charles forced himself to look at something other than Arthur as the man peeled his shirt from his shoulders, retrieving a clean one from his trunk and seeming to take forever to get it on. One tiny peak from Charles was enough to get a rumbling chuckle out of Arthur.

“See somethin’ you like, angel?” he drawled, new shirt left hanging open on his broad shoulders.

“Arthur-”

“Mister Smith, I mean to say,” Arthur corrected himself, palms up and out in surrender as he continued chuckling like the evil, bad, evil man he was. Charles let himself get close enough for a quick slap to Arthur’s arm with the back of his hand.

“I’ve told you-”

“Not in camp, I know, I know,” Arthur defended, his smile falling to something more serious as he took a moment to look at Charles properly, eye-to-eye. “I’m sorry, just hard sometimes when I’ve been gone and you look so…” 

“So?” Charles asked, arms crossed on his chest and doing his best to look fed up with Arthur, regardless of how far it felt from the truth.

“Sorry, I can’t tell you in camp. Against the rules,” he said mockingly, his cocky grin returning. Arthur even turned to face away from Charles to button his shirt, depriving the other man of one last glimpse at that hairy chest and belly he missed so much.

“I see you’re busy,” Charles dared to bluff, half-turning away, “I’ll leave you to it.”

Arthur was turned around quick as a shot, on the cusp of reaching out to stop Charles from walking away. 

“Don’t be like that,” he pleaded, gone all apologetic and soft like he did at the slightest provocation from the younger man. He stepped closer, shirt tragically buttoned to the top but smelling a fair sight nicer than he had on arrival to camp. “Whaddya need?”

Charles took a measured step closer, careful to keep enough space that it wouldn’t look untoward from a distance. He let the air between them hang heavy, focusing his eyes on Arthur’s belt buckle before flicking up to the man’s eyes for his killshot.

“You,” he said, deep and smooth and practically sultry, more than enough to get Arthur riled up on the spot.

read the rest on ao3 for sweet cowboy smut

[maugustiee]

“Somebody Else?”

Smoke (elijah) x black!reader

Elijah hadn’t touched her in two days.

Not in the way that mattered.

He still made her breakfast. Still brought her home from work like he always did. But it was different. There was no warmth in it,just duty. Muscle memory. His hand on the small of her back felt like a placeholder, not a claim.

⸻

It started after that dumb argument about her wanting to go out of town with friends. She hadn’t even planned the trip, just mentioned it. But he’d gone quiet in that slow, dangerous way he did when he was thinking too much.

“Do what you want,” was all he said.

And he meant it.

Not out of freedom.

Out of detachment.

⸻

Now it was Thursday afternoon. Elijah was out on the back porch, talking low with his twin brother, Elias—Stack, the fast-talking one, always grinning like he was trouble.

Marie was in the kitchen. Window cracked.

She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. Not at first.

But then she heard her name.

And then she heard another one.

“Shanice.”

She froze.

Stack laughed. “She still callin’?”

“Yeah.”

“And you still pickin’ up?”

Elijah didn’t answer right away.

Then: “She don’t run her mouth when I tell her something . Peaceful.”

Marie’s chest dropped like someone had kicked her heart down a flight of stairs.

Stack whistled. “That what you want now? Peaceful?”

“Maybe,” Elijah said. Flat. Cold. “Think I been to easy with Marie she been pushing my buttons lately.”

Stack made a noise like he didn’t believe him. “You serious?”

Another pause.

Then Elijah’s voice, low and final:

“I love her but Ian waiting for her to grow up.”

⸻

She didn’t even realize she was crying until the floorboards creaked under her bare feet.

She backed away from the window, heart in her throat, mind spinning. Shanice? Who the fuck was Shanice? And why was he answering her calls?

She sat on the couch in silence. Too sick to cry, too stubborn to panic,at least not out loud.

He came in half an hour later like nothing happened. Washed his hands. Looked at her once,he then turned toward the hallway.

“Elijah,” she said, voice too thin.

He stopped.

Didn’t turn.

“You wanna talk about something?” she asked.

He looked over his shoulder, calm as ever. “No.”

That was worse than yelling. Worse than anger.

He didn’t care if she knew.

Didn’t care if it cut her.

And God—it did.

⸻

That night, she couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Could barely breathe with him lying in bed beside her, face turned away, body distant. She reached for him once—he didn’t flinch, but he didn’t hold her either.

Just laid there.

Let her feel it.

The hollow.

“You gonna leave me?” she asked, voice shaking.

He sighed heavily sitting up against the headboard looking over at her with those eyes.

“You already crossed the line,” he said. “You push my buttons every chance you get.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looked up, slow. “Sorry ain’t always gon cut it with me?”

Her throat clenched.

Marie tried to hold her ground, but her lip trembled.

“I don’t want nobody else,” she whispered. “Even if I act stupid sometimes. I don’t. I don’t want no peace if it ain’t with you.”

He searched her face. Hard. Silent.

“Why now?” he asked. “Why not when I was giving you multiple chances?

She choked on the truth. “Because I thought I had you. Thought you wasn’t goin’ nowhere. I got comfortable.”

“You got careless.”

“I know.”

“You got everything other women begging for and you act like this ,” he said. “So I reminded you that you’re not the only one who want me.”

Tears spilled hot down her face. “You gon leave me?”

“No,” he said. “Dont need to.”

“But you wanted me to think you did.”

He didn’t answer.

And that was the answer.

She laid her hands on his chest, soft and trembling.

“I don’t want to feel this again,” she said.

“Then don’t give me a reason to make you.”

“Elijah… I love you.”

He leaned down until their foreheads touched. His hand cupped her jaw.

“You gon’ show it now?” he whispered. “Or I gotta keep remindin’ you I don’t beg for what’s mine?”

She nodded through her tears. “I’ll show it.”

“Good,” he murmured, brushing her lips with his. “Now get undressed. You gon’ prove it tonight.”

⸻

Everything was fine after that she had still spent her days making it up to him when he already forgave her.

Until she got a little visitor one after closing up her boutique.

⸻

Marie was locking the boutique door when she heard heels click behind her.

She turned, slow, the evening sun casting a soft gold behind her.

A woman stood there, arms folded, lips glossed, looking too pretty for a chance meeting.

“You Marie?”

Marie didn’t answer right away. She already knew.

“You must be,” the woman continued. “I been meanin’ to meet you.”

Marie slid her bag up her shoulder. “That right?”

“Mmhmm.” She stepped closer. “I’m Shanice.”

Marie didn’t blink. “And what exactly is it you wanna talk about?”

Shanice smiled, slow. “Elijah.”

There it was.

Marie took a breath, calm. “You his cousin or somethin’?”

“No,” Shanice said proudly. “But we been talkin’. A lot.”

Marie’s heart ticked—but her face didn’t move. “You telling me this for what?”

“I want you to know what it is,” Shanice said, stepping forward. “He look like he real tired. Said you been actin’ like you got better things to do.”

Marie laughed. “He told you that?”

“Yeah. And from the way he talk, I figured it’s only a matter of time ‘fore you out the picture.”

That one hit different.

Shanice saw it too.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she said, arms folded. “He picked up when I called. Stayed on the line too. Real quiet. But I know what that silence meant.”

Marie’s chest pulled tight, but she kept her voice light. “You real bold.”

“I’m honest. And I know when a man’s already half-gone.”

Marie looked her over. “He ever take you home?”

“No.”

“He ever sleep over?”

“No.”

“Cook you breakfast? Wash your hair in the shower when you tired? Tell you how you not going anywhere?”

Shanice’s face twisted.

Marie stepped forward, real close now.

“Don’t matter he gon be mines sooner or later,” she said like she was so sure.

“You thought you could take somethin’ I bled for? I suffered for? You thought you could walk up here and tell me he yours like I’d hand him over?”

Shanice blinked, faltering.

“You ain’t built for the kind of man he is,” Marie said. “He quiet, but he ain’t soft. And when you fumble with him, he make you feel it. He make you sit with it.”

Shanice stepped back.

Marie didn’t.

“You ain’t got the years I got with him. The nights. The fights. The history. You saw him alone one time and thought that meant you was next. But he ain’t nowhere near done with me.

Shanice shifted, trying to hold pride in her spine.

Marie tilted her head.

“Because If he was done with me, you wouldn’t be here tellin’ me. You’d be home with him.”

Silence.

“Now get out my face,” Marie said. “Before I mop my floor with yo cheap ass bundles bitch.”

⸻

Later that night, Marie didn’t bring it up to him. Just made sure while he was in the shower to call her and let her hear who he was fucking and putting through the mattress at night.

Tag list: @chrisevansmentee @queenofklonnie22 @christinabae @secretlifeofpreshap @thefutureemmywinner @monstaxmomma0 @cocooned-butterfly

[kings-highway]

Okay small break from my usual haikyuu posting so that I can get disgustingly sentimental and sappy in honour of hitting a milestone number of subscribers on Ao3. Because I am bad at responding to comments, and even worse at responding to asks here, I wanted to take a moment to be a bit sincere.

The first is the obvious thank you. I cannot believe anyone willingly subscribes to receive that many emails a week let alone so many of you, but sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

The second thing is just to talk about what this means to me. I was not... Well liked, growing up. That's not to say I was hated, I often described myself as being so irrelevant that bullies weren't interested in me. There had to be something to bully and hate, and there was simply nothing about me that one could feel anything about.

I've always been big into fandom. I would rewatch every season of doctor who on loop, playing my favourite episodes until I knew them by memory. I would write fanfiction, crossover fanfiction, draw fanart. Tried to spread my art, tried to share my writing. Stared at the fan pages and roleplay forums and fic links and wanted in. I wanted to play too. I have always felt irrelevant, but a big part of that was never knowing how to talk to people. I never liked things the "right" way, and even now, I'm scared to "fangirl" in the way so many people do. I don't know how to be excited about something, I want so badly to be in in this community but I'm so terrified of making a social faux pas that I can't make the first move.

I want to squeal and shout and hold hands and bounce around excitedly and talk about everything I love about my favourite characters until the sun comes up but it's just not in my nature to behave that way. I am not that person.

But what I can do is write. I had a lot of writer friends growing up, but I use the word "friend"* loosely. I think, for the most part, they did mean well, but I fucked that up somehow. Well, I say "somehow," I know exactly what I did wrong, I just corrected my issues too late to save anything.

And I'm going to be honest, I couldn't tell you why I decided to start writing haikyuu fanfiction after about 8 years since I'd written fanfiction and 3 (at the time) since I'd finished any other project. It was a deviation for sure and I was only like 2 or 3 seasons in at the time. I didn't know the characters very well and I didn't have any reason to think anyone would care, but I posted that stupid story after covid had ruined all our lives and people just... Talked to me. I mean I didn't talk back, they left comments and I hid under the bed like a feral cat in terror because I didn't know what else to do. It is not an understatement to say that I didn't have any friends at the time. There were people I could have reached out to, but nobody that I saw on a regular basis. I had only just recently met the person who would become by best friend and roommate and we wouldn't start hanging out for a year or so. My best friend from high school had recently unfollowed me on instagram. But strangers on the internet were reading my work. And nobody had ever really done that before.

I had said that I've never really known how to engage in a fandom, and I still don't. I don't think I really know how to engage with friends, either. I think my brain is stuck in a permanent state of shame and anxiety, and expressing myself is simply not an option for me. Not authentically. But I can love through my writing, I can show you how much I love this stupid show, and I can show you how much I love getting to be a part of this fandom because for the first time it feels like I'm a part of things, instead of just watching from the outside. And for the first time, it feels like everyone is okay with that. Like you've all held my hands really gently, walked me into the community and allowed me to participate in the way that is natural for me. Allowed me to feel relevant because you understood my writing, or connected to it, or saw something interesting - for whatever reason. Left comments overflowing with kindness, send me DMs or Asks with sentiments so honouring I didn't know what to do with myself.

And I hope you've all forgiven me for not always replying. For staying quiet, for keeping my head down.

So when I say thank you, I really do mean it. Thank you for reading, thank you for leaving comments even when I don't reply, thank you for sending asks I never get around to answering. Thank you for giving me a place that feels like I am a part of things, rather than just a visitor. Thank you for putting up with so many emails a week.

Thanks.

[ms--lobotomy]

She Corvus on my Corax until I.... she Corax on my Corvus until I destroy my geneseed

Summary: Corvus has a bit of a guilty wank Word Count: 761 Content Warnings: NSFW, sad bird hours, size kink, religious (?) guilt, you really dont know whether its requited or not, an extreme amount of cum, no beta we die like Corvus's hopes and dreams Image Credit: @squishyowl

Corvus snuffed the lone candle illuminating his room. The orange light was gone in an instant, leaving the room in darkness. Sadly, he could see through it. He positioned himself on the bed, a luxury he had very recently let himself partake in. The sheets were some simple things from Deliverance, comfortable enough. 

It was disgusting. There was nothing wrong with it, per se, but the warmth and comfort was too alien for his liking. He looked at the ceiling for a moment, dark eyes blank and his bare chest rising and falling. 

It was at that moment when he reached for the lotion. He had to go about asking for it in a discreet manner, telling his sons that it was for a rash and looking at them like only a Primarch could. Nobody questioned him after that. 

The head of his paper-white cock was already leaking with precum as he pictured you in his mind. He felt himself begin to sweat. Matters of the flesh were weak; they were disgusting! Yet here you were, in his mind, so small and delicate on him. His hands reached out for you, as if you were there. He bit his lip. No.

By the Throne, you’d be so small on him. He’d even trimmed his cock for the occasion--not completely, mind you, but enough to fit his idea of presentable.

He rubbed lotion on his cock, imagining your tiny hands on him instead of his own. Your skin would be so soft against him, your mouth tiny and wet and welcoming. He thought of you lapping up every last drop; his precum, and then more, and then his cum for real once he finally spilled in you. He’d have a hard time keeping your teeth intact if you were to… oh, how disgusting it was, that he would jump to such conclusions! 

He shivered as he thumbed at the head. A shiver went down his spine, and his face scrunched up. He imagined your tongue on his cock instead, your puppy-dog eyes looking up at him. How shy you would be on him, how gorgeous-! 

He couldn’t help but buck his hips up into his hand. At that moment, he was glad there was nobody around his room, because the moan he let out was absolutely loathsome. But he had to. The thought of you bouncing on his cock, your tight little hole greedily taking it in while he rubbed your nipples with his thumbs only made him rub himself harder.

Who were you to do this to someone, he thought, reaching his second hand down to his balls and fondling them gently. He immediately tensed up as the words entered his brain. No, no, that’s a human being, he admonished himself. His hand started to work him a little bit slower. Respect your serf.

Then why are you pleasuring yourself to the idea of sullying them?

“Gross,” he said, between moans. “I can’t…”

One of his eyes opened, and he propped himself up on the bed with the hand he used to work his balls. His cock was throbbing on its own now, begging to release loads of cum into you. But you were far, far away. Those pretty eyes, that perfect face, the petal-soft skin of your ass and the enchanting shape of your thighs…

Without noticing, he sped his hand up. He let out a whorish moan, resigning himself to the obvious. He grit his teeth as he felt a warmth rise through his body, a warmth he wasn’t made to endure, a flaw in his geneseed but a pleasure nonetheless. 

“Gah--!”

And before he knew it, a white, viscous fluid spilled from him, covering his pelvis and the sheets surrounding him. His hand slowed down, covered in the salty liquid when it finally stopped. Sweat beads dotted his skin. His heart sunk into his stomach and his cum sank into the fabric. He shook, his chest heaving. He couldn’t bring himself to look at it.

So, there he lay. Covered in his own cum, you dancing through his mind. You taunted him, through no fault of your own. You, you…

If he hadn’t felt disgusting before, he was filthy now. With his clean hand, he shakily reached out for the tissues. Had he been more forthcoming with his feelings, you could be laying in bed right now next to him. But that wasn’t the galaxy he lived in. Unless…!

His mind was made up. His breathing steadied. In the morning, he would ask you on a proper date.

and then he cuts his bangs with safety scissors

Taglist: @bispecsual @justeverythingnothingelse @bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae @historitor-bookshelf

[juliettejwnewinesa]

Hello autor-nim!! How are u?

Can you write a piece where baku had a affair with baekjin young sister and after S2 last episode, he founds that she have his baby 🥹🫰🏻

Title: "Yours."

Pairing: Humin x Baekjin's Younger Sister Setting: Post-Season 2 of Weak Hero Class 2

beakjin is still alive ok 😭

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

Baekjin was gone.

Not dead. Not missing. Just... quiet.

After the war that burned through the Union like wildfire, most of the pieces were still being picked up. Humin had disappeared from the center of it all, floating on the edge of what was once a battlefield, haunted but alive.

It had been three months since everything collapsed. Three months since the last time he’d seen her.

Baekjin’s little sister.

The one girl he should’ve stayed away from. The one mistake he couldn’t bring himself to regret.

It had been an accident, at first. Or that’s what he told himself. Late nights studying in the same library, accidental glances, fingers brushing when she handed him a pen. The tension had started soft, sweet — then it bloomed into fire.

Their affair had been a secret. No one could know. Especially not Baekjin.

But even then, it hadn’t felt like an affair. It had felt... real. Like the first good thing Humin had touched in a long, long time.

So when he opened the door that night, only to see her standing there with fear in her eyes and a hand protectively placed over her stomach, something inside him cracked.

"Humin," she breathed. "I need to tell you something."

He said nothing. Just stared at her — at her pale face, trembling fingers, the way she kept glancing down at herself like she was ashamed of what she carried.

Then the truth dropped.

"I'm pregnant."

The world spun.

"It's yours."

Silence. Heavy. Crushing. Humin didn’t move.

His throat worked, but no words came out.

She kept going. "I didn’t know at first. But I’ve been to the doctor. It’s... I’m almost three months."

"Three months," he echoed hollowly.

That lined up. Right before the final fight. The week where things had spiraled out of control. The night she snuck into his room with tear-streaked cheeks and a desperate kiss that turned into hours tangled in sweat and love and everything they refused to name.

He sat down. Hard. Like his knees couldn’t hold him.

"Baekjin doesn’t know," she added, voice soft. "Nobody does. Only you now."

"Why tell me now?"

Her chin trembled. "Because I can’t do this without you. And I didn’t want to hide it anymore. I know what we had wasn’t meant to last, but—"

"Don’t say that."

She blinked.

Humin looked up at her, something raw flickering behind his eyes. "Don’t say it wasn’t meant to last."

He stood, slowly. Walked toward her. Stopped just in front of her like he was afraid to touch her now. Like she might shatter.

"Are you scared?" he asked, voice barely a whisper.

She nodded. "I’m terrified."

"Me too."

And then, finally, he reached out — hand resting on her stomach, where his child grew. His. Not just hers.

A small, involuntary sound escaped her lips. Relief. Pain. Love.

"I don’t know how to do this," he murmured. "But I’m not walking away."

She looked at him, lip trembling, eyes shining.

"What about Baekjin?"

His jaw clenched. "That’s going to be a war. But I’ll take it. I’ll take all of it — him, the judgment, the fallout. Because this..." he looked down again at her stomach, "...this matters more."

And then he kissed her. Like it was the first time all over again. Slow, reverent, his fingers slipping into her hair, pulling her closer until the air between them melted.

They sat on his couch after that. Wrapped in a quiet that felt like safety.

She told him about her symptoms. The nausea. The doctor’s visits. The way she talked to the baby sometimes when she was alone, just to make herself feel less scared.

He listened.

And then, as the night stretched long, Humin reached out again — this time to her face.

"Let me take care of you."

"You already are," she whispered.

But he meant more.

He pulled her gently onto his lap, letting her settle against him. Kissing her again, slow and deep, like she was something sacred.

And when they undressed — careful and quiet — it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was full of unspoken promises.

She gasped when he entered her, fingers gripping his shoulders, and he held her tightly like she was something he never wanted to lose again.

The pace was slow. Reverent. Their foreheads pressed together, breaths shared, soft moans and shuddering whispers echoing through the quiet room.

"Mine," he murmured, over and over again. "Mine. Mine."

And she clung to him, heart wide open.

Because she was.

And so was he.

Outside, the world might explode again. Baekjin might find out. Fists might fly.

But in this moment, wrapped in soft sheets and each other’s arms, they were just Humin and the girl he couldn’t let go of.

The girl carrying his child.

His.

Forever.

naurrrr i didn't know where to put a Hongdae joke 😭

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Somewhere Over the Rainbow pop-up event.

damaged goods.

Prompt: Indigo | Song: Midnight Rain by Taylor Swift | Word Count: 1027 | Rating: T | POV: Goodie (Freak) | Relationship(s): Jeff & Goodie | CW: Unrequited Love All Around, Mild Sexual Content, Language | Tags: Band Drama, Ill Advised One Night Stand Between Best Friends, Love is a Battlefield, But Friendship Is Easy

he was sunshine, i was midnight rain

Lips and teeth and hands. Everywhere. Goodie knows, he knows this is a bad idea, but he's in too deep, now. So he kicks his loudly protesting inner monologue into a lockbox in the deepest depths of his mind, and slams the door shut.

There. Better.

It's not forever they're aiming for here, just two friends scratching an itch together. One night. It'll be fine. They're both adults. And what's a little sex between best friends? Nobody knows him better than Jeff.

Jeff laughs, familiar and fun, and Goodie reaches up and cups the back of his head. Tugging him closer, kissing him, dragging him down on top of Goodie as he sprawls out on the bed.

The next morning, you could cut the tension in the van with a knife. Sides taken, a divide driven straight down the middle of the band. And it's all Goodie's fault. 

It was a mistake. 

Being on the same page had been all in Goodie's head, as it turns out. 

They're best friends. Bandmates. They can't really do this. It's ridiculous. He really thought Jeff understood that. Goodie knows enough to know that Jeff is too nice for the bullshit that Goodie brings to any table, anyway. He's damaged goods. They all are. It's kind of their thing. They aren't exactly known for being emotionally stable. Gareth's hung up on an oblivious Jeff, and now he's really goddamn mad at Goodie. What else is fucking new? But Goodie's pretty sure Jeff is in love with Eddie, who definitely loves Steve Harrington, and don't even get Goodie started on how that dumb jock somehow doesn't have a fucking clue.

They're a messy bunch of losers in love. All chasing after what they can't have.

And Jeff shouldn't want him for any goddamn reason. Not even as a second choice, consolation prize.

Goodie is slumped in the back of the van, jacket pulled up around his neck, burrowed down. Like they won't notice him.

He knows better. He's all any of them are thinking about after the scene he caused outside the motel, Jeff standing in the doorway of their room, still in his boxers. Confusion and hurt written all over his face.

Thinking they were starting something, instead of just fucking for the night.

Gareth took Jeff's side, and Eddie took Goodie's just to be a contrarian, Goodie's goddamn sure. It's wrong. Eddie and Gareth are supposed to gang up on him and Jeff. That's the natural order, and today everything is all fucked up. Taking the wrong sides.

He's scared it's never gonna be the same again. No matter if they clear the air, or keep it all bottled up, shoved down deep.

Either way, they all lose.

The van is too quiet, and nobody is even complaining that Gareth is driving. Jeff in the front seat, head resting against the glass. 

Eddie moves into the seat next to Goodie, and taps him on the arm, an act of solidarity that Goodie's pretty sure he doesn't deserve.

Man, he really fucked up this time.

Goodie's thankful when they get to the next city, and he's the first to bail out of the van. He just wants to lock himself in his room and wallow. It's not like they didn't have fun. They did. But he didn't know Jeff was gonna assume it was more than the night. Now Goodie's the asshole.

Goodie's always branded the asshole, somehow.

He's used to it.

Jeff's the nice one, he's the surly one. It's their thing. Their schtick. Has been since they were kids. 

And now they've fucked that all up.

He hears the key in the lock, and assumes Eddie has been delegated as his bunkmate for the night, but of course not. There's Jeff. Bag in hand.

"Oh," Goodie says out loud, and Jeff laughs.

"Don't sound so excited. You and Eddie would kill each other if you had to share, let's all be real," Jeff says, and it feels so normal. And it's true. Jeff's not wrong. But he rarely is, historically.

Last night was just a glitch in his judgment. Everybody deserves a few of those.

Jeff slumps down next to him on the couch. Goodie stiffens, but Jeff immediately lays his hand on Goodie's knee, squeezing.

"We're fine," he says, and Goodie's not sure he believes that. "We'll blame it on the whiskey. Don't overthink it. It's no big deal."

Goodie knows better, but he'll take it. 

Because he needs an out, because Jeff's his best friend, and he can't lose him. He wouldn't be able to stand it. They're a package deal. Jeff and Goodie. Goodie and Jeff. Best friends. You don't mess with a good thing.

"I shouldn't have started it last night," Goodie says, and Jeff laughs, shaking his head.

"I kinda think I did," Jeff says, "so let's just not assign any blame. It happened. We're over it."

Goodie nods. He thinks that being over it is a little optimistic, but he's not about to drag this out longer than they have to, he's no fool.

"Hey, bright side. Be proud. You give good head," Jeff says.

Goodie laughs, and the tightness in his chest unfurls. Just a little.

He's still Jeff.

"And I can be a better wingman now. I've got firsthand knowledge that I'm selling them on some Real Quality Goods," Jeff continues, running with the pun. A nickname of his nickname, and fuck, maybe they are gonna be fine. 

He should have known Jeff would just need a little time to work through it all in his own head, before he'd come back to center. It'd be crazy if he didn't. He's the band's only hope for sanity, their solid ground.

He's Goodie's solid ground. He'd drown without him. They all would.

"I'm not Quality Goods. I'm Damaged Goods," Goodie says, "I've been around Eddie too long."

They both laugh, and everything is gonna be just fine. 

"I'm still sorry. I was an asshole this morning," Goodie apologizes.

And he is. Big time. He handled it like a fucking jerk.

Jeff just chuckles, grinning at him, "Trust me. I'm used to it."

And if you want to write your own, or see more entries in this pop-up, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to see other entries for the Somewhere Over the Rainbow popup event!

[v4vile-a]

pls pls PLS people. for the life of me, i have zero time to be on the dash right now but i miss chris so bad. give this a ❤️ if u consent to swapping discord tags & developing/writing on there.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

january month of yuugi

[bellatrixdulac]

This might be controversial but…like the vindication I've felt when Mu Qing and Feng Xin spelled it out for Xie Lian that Hua Cheng is creepy as hell in book 6? I was thinking the same since the start and I felt like I was the only one. Unreliable narrator and toxic shipping are fun but genuinely everyone seems to think that HuaLian is like a "goalsss" kind of relationship in the fandom, super cute and romantic but uh? If it wasn't the main ship, everyone would likely hate Hua Cheng for being a creep, let's be real. I felt like I was living in a bizarro world until those two finally spoke about it. Not that I had any doubt he would not turn creepy. I have believed since the start that Hua Cheng picked the colour red so he could use all his red flags as clothes lol He was always so... icky.

[hana-bobo-finch]

i hardly ever mention Glad for some reason. you. you know the one. the cousin. the mouthless one. bellona’s cousin that I have probably only mentioned once but she does actually do stuff in the plot. yknow. i only have concept sketches of her but uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh