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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 19 hours

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Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

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The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter.

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway.

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence.

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan.

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life.

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been joined for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together.

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you.

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes.

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk.

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop.

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in.

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.”

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.”

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day.

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually.

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid.

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did.

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.”

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner.

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way.

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude.

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.”

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?”

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked.

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“What’d you do this weekend?”

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.”

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?”

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his.

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.”

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of.

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked.

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked.

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.”

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot.

God, you were down bad.

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face.

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed.

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded.

That was all you needed to hear.

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible.

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little.

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting.

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual.

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken.

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.”

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?”

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger.

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision.

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.”

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm.

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed.

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece.

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice.

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!”

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his.

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive.

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless.

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!baureader

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m0nsterqzzz · 15 hours

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word count: 3k

- Liar Liar -

Wanda Maximoff x reader

summary - in which, you stumble upon the most beautiful woman you've ever seen while in search of a job you can put your piano skills to use at. The only thing? She's a teacher who thinks you're in search of lessons. All's far in love and music right?

a/n - wanda + music = me fucking dying. lol. haven't updated in a while that's my bad. i love you guuuuyyyyyysss.

⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ

You hadn’t meant to lie.

You’d went into the slightly shady neighborhood in search of a job, preferably one that let you play piano- your passion- and still had a decent amount of pay so you would be able to afford that apartment you got recently.

It’s a small town though, and no one really has any need for music as they own record players and other forms of listening devices. No one cares about classical music anymore.

Maybe you should have listened when your father told you music would never be a good career.

So you gave up hope, walking downtown to the store to get a simple and cheap frozen dinner that you could watch while sulking in front of the tv. Being an adult is hard, and you often find yourself wondering what you would do if you had just been given one chance to go back in time and not rush growing up.

You heard the familiar and peaceful sound of piano, and just like anytime you hear it, you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk to simply listen. There’s a small store next to all the tall and beautiful ones, one that probably gets lost a lot in the sight of all the other, more important buildings. A young woman is sitting inside near the front, visible through the big glass window that you silently watch her through. Her skilled fingers dance across the keyboard, creating an aura in the world that has you stuck in a magical trance.

The song slowly goes quieter, and you watch her take a deep sigh before turning her head to look out the window- as if knowing you were there. You panic, blushing in embarrassment before you pretend to read the signs taped to the door.

A bright smile graces your face as you actually begin to read them. A few of them just talk about upcoming concerts in town square, but one big one smack dab in the middle catches your eye;

Hiring!

Tutors, managers, cleaners

$16.45 a hour

It’s not a lot of money, but it’s enough and you’d get to do what you love while seemingly getting to hang out with a pretty girl. It’s a win, win, win. For you.

“Sorry. That sign is old. My friend was supposed to take it down.” Someone quietly speaks beside you, and you almost jump in fear when you see that the woman you had previously been looking at through the window is now standing right next to you, staring blankly before she tears the sign off the door. She’s even more pretty in person, from her long auburn hair to her piercing greens eyes that most people would fear as she stares at you silently though all you feel is nervous and giddy.

“Right…well….do you still have any openings?” You ask, placing your hands in your pockets as you rock back and forth on your heels. She watches with curious eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

She answers quietly, a stark contrast to your happy mood, though she doesn't exactly seem upset. More like calm. “Yes. Lessons are 10 dollars for an hour and a half.”

You frown in confusion. Does she think you’re looking for a teacher? You go to tell her you’re looking to be a teacher, but your eyes fall on the little picture on the door that has a photo of her next to a few others of other people. Under her’s is the title; “owner and teacher”

“Would you be my teacher?” The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them, so you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else.

The girl’s lips turn upwards in the beginning of a smile. “Yes. I would.”

You practically grin, and it’s like you don’t even remember the several years of college you went through to get a career in music as you say, “Then I’d like to take lessons from you. I like piano. I want to learn how to play.”

She does smile now, nodding as she opens the door which makes the bell above it ring. “That’s great. Follow me and we’ll get you signed up.” You do follow her inside, taking in the beauty of the hidden shop. There are pianos and other instruments everywhere, ones that look worn out yet still pretty. Open songbook’s litter every open space and she gets to the front desk before digging through a pile of them for the forms you need to sign.

After signing way to many forms and paying a small fee, you shake her hand with the one that isn’t cramping.

“Thank you for choosing Scarlett's Melodies. I’m Wanda Maximoff. I own the shop and tutor most of the students.” You smile, squeezing her hand before you awkwardly place your hand in your pocket and introduce yourself.

Wanda. A pretty name for a pretty girl.

You obviously don’t say that though. Anxiety exists yall.

Instead you leave with a new found pep in your step.

That is until you remember that you just spent a ton of money and don’t even have a job. Wow. What the fuck is Wanda Maximoff doing to you?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you have to get a job, so you get one at the nice restaurant in town that your friend works at. You spend most of your day serving customers, taking orders, and cleaning, and the only reason you continue to do it is that every other day, you just have to think about the fact that once work is over, you get to go see the beautiful piano teacher.

It’s not hard to play down your skill, but it is a little bit funny every time you slip up and tell her you already know something and then have to make the excuse that you’re doing some studying on your own time as well.

Wanda has a sweet personality, though she is a bit cold and standoffish sometimes. You learn a lot about her over the past few weeks though, like her late brother Pietro, her friends Natasha and Clint who are also workers at the store, and how she came to love music so much as to start up her own store for it.

“You’re late.” She says when you run in six minutes past the time you’re supposed to be there, but her tone is light and teasing as she scans through some notes on her sheet music. She lets you take them home sometimes to study them, but you mostly just study her pretty handwriting and the little doodles she leaves for you to find.

You chuckle, taking off your coat and hanging it up next to her leather jacket near the door. The place is cozy and if not for the workers constantly running in and out, you’d say it feels more like a home than a store.

“Sorry. I was at work.” She nods as you speak, handing you a book she made more notes in before pointing over to a piano set up against a wall. It’s nicely toned and made of a beautiful wood, and once she learned it was probably your favorite, she “teaches” you at that one every single lesson.

You sit on the bench, trying your hardest not to blush when she rubs her hand on your back before sitting closely next to you. It’s one of your favorite parts of the lessons- when she sits close enough that you can smell her perfume. Vanilla with a hint of sage, and it’s quickly become one of your favorite scents.

“We’re gonna work on something a bit harder today alright? I think you can do it, but the notes are in a slightly weird pattern and may be hard to remember.” Wanda says, flipping to a page in the book before setting it up on the music rack.

It’s one of your favorites and quite easy to play after years of practicing, but you don’t tell her that.

By the end of the almost two hour lesson, you have pretended to learn the first part of the song, purposefully messing it up every once in a while so you don’t expose yourself.

You’re starting to feel a bit guilty about the lying, but then she smiles proudly and showers you in compliments and you forget all about it.

Wanda walks you to the door, leaning on the wall as you put on your coat and grab your stuff. You’re tired, but that feeling doesn’t even begin to compare to the one that comes when she holds your hand and smiles towards you.

“There’s a small event in town this weekend.” She starts, pointing towards the sign up on her big bulletin board. “A few people playing pieces, some nice food. I think you should join. You’re one of my most advanced students.”

You grin, hesitantly nodding. “I’d love to. That sounds like so much fun.”

The redhead nods as well, smiling slightly as she writes your name down on the sign up sheet. You’ll play after a few other students and teachers, and you must tell her what piece you want to play by tomorrow so you can spend the next few lessons practicing it.

With that you say your goodbyes, lingering in a hug with the Maximoff girl before you finally leave, walking home with a love sick smile on your face. Little did you know, the same one is gracing Wanda’s face as she closes up the shop and makes her way home.

— – — – — – — – —

When the day of the concert comes around, you’re nervous.

You don’t know why. You could play this piece in your sleep, but for some reason, the same nerves that were with you during your first performance as a child are now fluttering around in your stomach as you sit on a piano bench in the town square.

Wanda is talking with some of the other students, and you try and distract yourself by looking at her with adoration in your eyes, but it all comes back at a higher level when she notices you and winks your way.

She’s so pretty, and you fight the urge to slam your head on the instrument as she finishes up her conversation and begins walking towards you.

“Hey hon. How you feeling?” Wanda stands behind you, rubbing your shoulders reassuringly as she reads over the notes on your sheet music. You shrug, blushing brightly at her touch as you pretend to be focusing on smoothing out your shirt of non-existent wrinkles.

“I’m okay. Kinda nervous.” You say, and the blush only deepens when she hums in understanding and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Don’t be. You’re going to be great.” Her words make you grin, and you lean your head back to rest on her stomach as she gently runs her fingers through your hair. Someone calls her name, so she gently caresses your face before patting your back and walking away.

Oh the things that Wanda Maximoff does to you.

While you’re waiting for your turn on stage, you get bored, so you sit back on the bench and begin to quickly play through one of the hardest songs you know. It took forever to learn and you still mess up every once and a while, but it still would sound beautiful to anyone and by the end of it, you do hear someone slightly chuckle in shock.

It isn't a happy laugh or happy shock though. That much you can tell.

“I didn’t teach you that.” A slightly bitter tone speaks, and you slowly turn around to come face to face with Wanda, fists clenched at her sides and a curious but slightly annoyed expression on her face.

You want to continue to lie, to tell her you’ve been working hard and her lessons are paying off, but no one who’s only been playing for a few months would be able to play that and she obviously knows the truth now.

“You wasted my time.” She says coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s no longer the bubbly girl you’ve come to have the pleasure of knowing, instead going back to the closed off woman you first met. It’s all your fault.

You look down in shame, letting the bouquet rest by your side. “I’m so sorry Wanda.”

Wanda scoffs, glaring at you before she storms out of the room. She’s pissed, but a warm feeling settles in her chest at the knowledge you went through all of this to hang out with her, even with the thought that you don’t have a chance with her. You still wasted her time though, and you lied to her for weeks, almost months. How can she trust that you truly aren’t just some psycho?

You stay in the middle of town square, tears forming in your eyes as more and more people gather to listen to the other pianists. You’re falling in love with Wanda Maximoff, and up until this point, it’s only ever been clear and sunny skies. What are you supposed to do now that your first cloud has appeared?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you stop going to your lessons.

Wanda finds herself missing you every time 6 o’clock comes around and you don’t come sprinting into the shop with your work uniform still on, rambling about something a stupid customer did like you’ve known Wanda forever. It feels like that, that’s for sure.

You spend every day in an endless cycle. Get up, go to work, walk the long way so you don’t risk running into Wanda outside of her music store, work a nine hour shift, and return to your quiet apartment where you sit in silence and mourn for someone that still lives.

Maybe you should adopt a dog.

One especially rough day, you wake up late, your alarm clock having turned off during a storm last night and reset itself all while you were asleep. Because of this, you wake up with five minutes to get ready and even less time to sprint to work, so you can’t take the long way like you usually do.

It’s lightly sprinkinly outside, so you don’t bother taking a jacket in the midst of chaos. That was clearly the wrong decision, as only a few minutes into your walk there, it starts absolutely pouring, and just like that, your uniform is soaked and you’re shivering. You don’t have any time to go back though, so you fight on, staying right next to the buildings for a bit of protection and you don’t even notice the person carefully watching you as you fastly walk down the sidewalk.

“Hey!” Someone calls out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a familiar building. It’s calm and quiet music is playing somewhere, but all you can focus on is that Wanda is standing in front of you, holding out a dry towel for you to grab.

You hesitate, grabbing it and holding it closely around your body in hopes of stopping the cold feeling in your bones. It’s much warmer in here and the only rain is tapping against the window from outside, but Wanda is here and she looks at you with a type of distaste you’ve never seen before.

“I need to get to work. I’m late.” You mumble eventually after a few minutes of silence, but she just puts her hands on your shoulders and rubs them to bring you more warmth as she replies calmly, “No. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

You go to argue, but she simply shakes her head and sits down at your piano on the other end of the room. She begins to play a simple but calm song, and she watches in the corner of her eye as you sink down on the couch next to the fireplace and slowly close your eyes. You’re still awake though, that much she can tell by the way your fingers tap along to the pattern of the music.

Finally she slowly stops the song, letting her hands fall to rest on her thighs as she stares at the keyboard with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Why would you lie to me?”

You open your eyes, watching with a guilty but sincere look as she chews on her lower lip and gently presses a few of the keys. “I’m truly sorry Wanda. I figured if we spent that time together, I would be able to learn more about you…in hopes of eventually asking you out. It was stupid, and wrong, and I’m sorry.”

She sighs, closing the keyboard cover and turning to face you. “If you had asked, I would have said yes.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Is she messing with you?

Wanda continues, “If you had just told me all of that when we first met, we could have gone out and gotten dinner or- or lunch or on a picnic like normal people.” You nod along, silently fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt. “So go ahead.”

You’re silent for a second, looking around as if wondering if she’s talking to you to which she giggles and nods. That laugh could fix all your issues.

“Wanda Maximoff, I’d really like to get to know you. The right way this time. Will you go out with me?” You ask nervously after clearing your throat and sitting up in your seat.

Wanda smirks, rubbing her chin as if in deep thought. “I don’t know…”

You laugh a bit when she does, though you’re too busy smiling brightly as she nods. “I’d love to go out with you. No lying to me this time though. And you have to teach me that song you were playing at the recital.”

“No way. A magician never reveals their secrets.” You tease, sitting next to her on the bench as she laces your hands together and says with her own smile, “Oh really? So I just agreed to a date for nothing? You’re mean.”

All is fair in love and music though.

⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ

#wanda maximoff x you #marvel x reader #marvel #the scarlet witch x reader #the scarlet witch #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel x you #piano

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support-ponies · 23 hours

Text

MOD PAGE (mobile friendly)

🐶🐕MOD KIBA!!! ☕🍩

Heyo!!! I am KIBA! You might know me more as Typhwosion! I am she/her but I don’t really care what pronouns ppl use for me. I made this blog to try and make peoples days a bit easier with cute and happy ponies~ I love doggies and coffee and plushies! My favorite ponies are Applejack and Maud and Trixie and I love RariJack💖 I hope I can make your life a bit brighter with my silly drawings~ My husband is Mod Dynamo! Here’s my carrd to all my other socials and here’s all the art i’ve made on this blog. ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა 💖💛💙

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🐱🐈MOD DYNAMO!!!🧡🍊

I’m Dynamo and I’m here to support the sweetest girl in the world with some Arty McArt™ and stuff. I like cats, video games, and cheese (not necessarily in that order.) My favorite pony is also Maud. If you like my art, get ready to not see much of it here if ya dare. (And here is all the art he’s made on this blog) ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

And here are all the collab art we’ve done together, Dynamo usually does the sketches for these and I ink and color them.

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MOD MORI

Howdy everypony! I’m one of the new mods, you can call me Mori!

I use He/Him and I’m transmasc + bisexual andddd my favorite ponies of the mane 6 are Fluttershy and Pinkie, though my heart truly lies with Luna. You know how it goes. My sona is named Astral Beryl and I’m hoping to become a geologist and/or voice actor, but for now I draw ponies because… Well I really love to! I hope they can help brighten your day!

Also as a note my art style is going to be… Wildly inconsistent and I apologize beforehand if certain pieces aren’t as nice as others. Such is the way of art and wanting to try new things like drawing more consistently.

o/ Stay hydrated party ponies! Hope to see you around!

ART TAG / MAIN BLOG

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MOD PIXEL

Hello everypony! I’m Pixel, also known as @fruitypieq :3

I use he/they/lun/luna and my ponysona, Night Peak, uses she/he/they. My favorite ponies are Princess Celestia and Princess Cadance, and of course Sunset Shimmer too!

I am not sure what else to put here but I’m very excited to be here, its nice to meet all of you! I’m excited to start drawing your requests and I hope I can help make your day even a little better!

If you enjoy my art you can find more of it on my main blog, or on my art blog, @fruitypieq-art! Have a wonderful day everypony!

ART TAG / MAIN BLOG

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MOD WILLOW

Hiya! I’m Mod Willow! I use any pronouns and so does my ponysona, Cece! I’m intersex, intergender, transmascfem and lesbian. I am currently trying to get into school to become a therapist but art is one of my biggest passions! I love helping and inspiring people so I hope my art can do that for you all <3

I love all the ponies but my very favorite is Princess Luna, and my favorite out of the Mane Six is probably Fluttershy. I’ve been in the fandom for about 12 years and I’m very happy to be contributing to it in any way I can!

Have a lovely day and stay mindful!

ART TAG / MAIN BLOG

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MOD APPLEJACK

Hi everypony, I’m mod applejack! I’m a 22 year old mlp superfan who has a special passion for G1 although all gens have a place in my heart. I love to cook, read, and draw for others. My other special interest besides mlp is beekeeping; I’m actually a certified beekeeper myself! I’m so happy to become a part of this amazing blog and support those who need it<3

ART TAG / MAIN BLOG

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MOD FAELING

Hi all! I’m a new mod here! I go by Fae or Faeling, and my pronouns are she/her. I’m a 30 years young autistic artist who has a love for helping bring positivity to others! ✨

I currently haven’t made my ponysona so it’s still in delvelopment but when it’s done I’ll be sure to edit and add it in this post!

My favourite generation is Gen4 and my favourite MLP is Fluttershy! I love how gentle she is and her love for animals, it matches my personality so well!💕

I am happy to be here, I have a love for drawing positive art, as I do the same on my own social media’s art accounts but not just MLP characters, all sorts of different cartoon and anime characters with positive quotes!

I’ve always wanted to help others in some way and doing things like this has always made my heart feel like I’m doing something good in the world, you all deserve encouraging and positive words to get through your days! 💕

If you end up liking my art, you can always find me at @faelingmagic on tumblr or all my other socials at http://linktr.ee/faelingmagic

I look forward to drawing for you all!

ART TAG / MAIN BLOG

#mod page #look at all the cute ponysonas

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thewritingmagician2022 · 3 days

Note

hii can i req fluffy smut with the side characters + satan? ෆ╹ .̮ ╹ෆ

Sure thing! I’m sorry it’s late but I hope you get to find this and enjoy. (Admittedly smut isn’t really my strong suit, at least in graphic terms, so I hope this still satisfies your request)

Satan: Satan is so, so good at recreating scenes from the more erotic books you read together. I’m not just talking about the kinky stuff (unless that’s something you’re into) but the romantic and intimate things. He loves to ask you what you think of certain scenes, actions, dialogue, etc. so that he can incorporate it into your sex life. He wants nothing more than to fulfill all of your fantasies. This means sometimes things can get a little intense for you both and, while you both enjoy that aspect, Satan is always sure he never takes it too far - he’s a strong advocate for a safe word, even during vanilla sex. Aftercare is also essential to him as well; he loves to snuggle up with you and put his hands on you in the most gentle of alwayss, especially bathing together, while you talk about the experience after.

Diavolo: Diavolo is usually so careful with you during sex. He’s strong and large for a demon, let alone in relation to a human like yourself. His biggest fear is accidentally hurting you or pushing a boundary; all he wants to do enjoy your love for each other. He really enjoys you being in charge, if only because it soothes his soul and mind to know that you are in control of the intensity, position, power, etc. This way he won’t do anything wrong by accident. There’s also something so intimate about him giving you that control because it is literally the only place in his life where he can do that and the fact that he trusts you so much that he’s willing to be vulnerable means the world to both of you. Sex isn’t (just) a fun thing with Diavolo, it’s a testament to your relationship and your commitment and trust.

Barbatos: All Barbatos cares about is your happiness and pleasure - that’s who he is at his core. He is there to serve. His ability to make you happy is what he is most proud of. He feels closest to you when he is giving you the most ultimate pleasure and he’s very aware of how important your emotional connection is during that as well. Barbatos can be a mischievous, even a bit sadistic at times, but he’s only going to incorporate that if it’s something you’re interested in. If it is, he’s comfortable doing it only if he knows he’s built enough trust with you and he would be the absolute best at aftercare both in terms of physical touch and words of affirmation so that you know how much he loves you. Conversely, if you’re not into that, he also loves loves loves being so slow and attentive and sweet; it’s essentially as if he’s worshipping you at any given time.

Solomon: Things with Solomon as always fun. Solomon has seen and done all of it before; there’s really not much of anything you could bring to him that he wouldn’t be willing to do with you, especially if it would make you happy. This means that it’s easier to feel comfortable with him - you know it’s impossible to shock or scare him off, and he never judges you. There’s so much communication in your relationship and this translates so well to the bedroom and it let’s you both figure out what you enjoy the most and that leaves you feeling so connected after each experience together. It really helps foster that mental and emotional connection. Every day is like being with your best friend and it’s the kind of connection that people dream of one day having with their significant other especially in a world where actually talking about sex with your partner is so rare.

Simeon: Sex with Simeon is always such an intimate and sensual experience. While Simeon is happy to experiment and learn new things with you, he is typically a very gentle lover. He is focused on connecting with you and creating an experience that leaves you both totally unaware of the world around you. There’s no God watching, no brothers or demons looking for your attention, no mortality - it’s just the two of you becoming one and being as close as possible. It’s typically a longer session with him as he’s someone who’s happy to keep the bubble around you two for as long as possible. He’s also the king of aftercare and dedicates equally as much time to connecting with you emotionally after sex to make sure you feel as loved and respected as possible.

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me asks #obey me headcanons #obey me satan #obey me Dateables

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honeyboylovee · 2 days

Text

i can do it (for you)

Pairing: Non-idol!Vernon x reader

Word count: 1k

Genre: Fluff, Angst(just a little cos I can’t, for the life of me write angst), implied strangers to lovers

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, reader refuses to accept any help, mentions of negative experiences from the past

A/N: Before saying anything else, I have to say that I am not satisfied with the ending. But I really do not know how to end this. Also this is a little different from my previous works. This may or may not be written from personal experiences. Also, I did a little word play in the title if you guys notice that. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading! Feedbacks are appreciated.

You believe yourself to be self-sufficient. It hadn’t always been this way. Several times in the past, there had been instances when you’d had to ask for people’s help- be it your peers, friends or your then-partners. And more times than not, these people, after helping you, made you feel like you owe them something. Their help started to feel like an obligation. You hated the feeling. You still do.

As you grew both mentally and emotionally, you stopped asking people for help. It wasn’t immediate. It took you time to get rid of. You wouldn’t care how difficult a task would be, you never asked for assistance or help. It was almost as if you had a point to prove. You didn’t know who you were proving it to, but you were.

This wasn’t a habit you were particularly proud of. You hated that you couldn’t trust someone enough to ask for help or accept the offered help. You hated that you were scared of people imposing an obligation on you. You hated it. And yet you did nothing about it.

That was until you met Vernon. You met him at a party. Your friend introduced him to you as her coworker. As you chatted, you discovered you had similar taste in music. And so the conversation flowed. You later discovered that you didn’t have a ride back home since your roommate left early. And it was too late for you to find a taxi. Vernon was quick to offer a ride back home. That’s when your habit of declining anybody and everybody’s help kicked in. You politely refused making a lame excuse. An excuse that you needed to sober up and so you’d walk back home. He didn’t want to push you on that. After all you’d just met. You ended up exchanging numbers with Vernon that day.

It was early on in your relationship when Vernon started noticing this habit of yours. He was observant when it came to your mannerisms. You loved and hated that at the same time. There had been an instance where he offered to bring you some lunch at your workplace. You had been late that day and hadn’t gotten the time to make any food. You had once again denied his offer.

‘I love the ramen from the cafe downstairs. I’ll just have that today.’, you’d told him.

You ended up eating two protein bars for lunch since you had a meeting at lunch and didn’t find the time or energy to go and have actual food.

Another time, it was a task as minuscule as tying your shoelaces. He noticed they were untied before you did. And so like any boyfriend(not all of them but that’s not the point) would, Vernon proceeded to bend down to tie them. That’s when his hands were stopped mid-air by your hands.

‘Wait wait wait…I’ll tie them’, you were quick to say as you beant down to tie your laces.

To say that he was dejected was an understatement. Man, he just wanted to tie his girlfriend’s shoelaces! Was that too much to ask for? As an ‘acts-of-service’ man that he was, he often became sad when you did that. He had to have a conversation with you soon.

As you reached home, he had been looking for an opportunity to start the conversation. He could see the opportunity from a hindsight when you complained about how sore your shoulders felt. He knew what he had to do then. He casually offered to massage them to make you feel better. And as he had expected, you refused. Frustration bubbled in him. But he managed to remain calm.

‘You never let me help you, lovie.’

He watched as your eyes widened for a second. Then, you were normal again.

‘That’s not true. They’re not that sore anyway. Maybe I just need some sleep and I’ll be fine.’

‘I’m not just talking about your shoulders. It’s just in general that you never accept any help from me or from anyone.’

Now you were the one getting frustrated. He could see it in the way you sighed. But he wasn’t going to leave the topic right now.

‘When have I ever refused any help from you?’, you said with a raised pitch to your voice. That was another indication that you’d lose your temper soon.

‘When have you not?’, he continued. He knew it was a tricky shot but he hit it anyway.

What he didn’t expect was the tears in your eyes following your prolonged silence. How could he forget? The raised pitch of your voice also meant you could cry soon. He was quickly on your side comforting you as you sobbed a little.

‘I don’t do it because I don’t want your help or because I think you can’t do a task.’, you spoke through your tears. ‘I just don’t want to be a burden on you. I have always done that to everyone around me. And…people, sometimes even my own friends made me feel like I owe them something even if they were the ones who offered to help me. It’s not the help that makes me anxious but the feeling after.’

You looked at him through your damp eyelashes. He was speechless, to say the least. When he decided to confront you about this, he hadn’t expected the reason to be that. Hell, he had even expected you to change the topic or make a poor excuse. His first instinct then was to engulf you in his arms till your sobs turned to sniffles.

‘You’re not a burden on me, lovie. You know I like helping you with chores, right? It makes me happy when I’m able to help you, be it making you food, tying your shoelaces or ordering your skincare for you. I feel zero burden doing that. Trust me, lovie.’, you listened to him as he poured his heart out, not looking at him.

You nodded then, not saying anything else.

‘What am I supposed to understand from that, hm?’

‘I’ll let you do some of the work from now.’, you said so softly that he would’ve missed it if he didn’t have all his attention on you.

‘You don’t need to ask for help. It’s good that you can do your work yourself. But if you ever need some, let me know, okay?’

#seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #vernon fluff #vernon x reader #seventeen #vernon #seventeen angst #vernon angst #seventeen imagines #vernon imagines #seventeen fics #vernon fics #fluff #angst #hansol #chwe vernon #fanfiction

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lightlycareless · 3 days

Note

How could you break my heart on Valentine’s Day??? Waaaahhhhhh, it makes sense but it still hurts. You’re gonna give me a part three or else 🔫

Seriously though it was really good! I loved it. I calculated and rounded up how much Naoya paid Mei Mei in U.S. Dollars and this dude really paid her around $17,500 and that’s not including all the gifts he bought Y/N. If I was Naoya’s parents, his debit card is getting confiscated. That is INSANE. I can’t imagine if they somehow managed to force out what actually happened to learn he spent all that on a girl that didn’t even RECIPROCATE his feelings like oh my god. I can’t imagine the earful poor Ranta is gonna get especially since this was kinda his idea for Naoya to confess his feelings(Although I don’t know if Ranta thought he’d go about it like this).

I wonder though if Y/N would reconsider Naoya’s feelings if she read his letter. Oof but now I’m thinking about what she’d do if she learned Naoya was the reason why she didn’t receive any gifts. I don’t know how long he’d stay on her bad side after that.

Hello anon!

Gee this is surely a really late response, but I still hope you know I appreciate your lovely words about my work!! Thank you so much 🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

I'm sorry that I broke your heart on the 14th haha it was kind of unexpected ngl, but that's just where the characters took me 🤭 though it's not all sad... if you know you know.

AS FOR THE MONEY HAHAHAH poor Naoya, he definitely got an earful from his parents, or more like the people in charge of the finances, I doubt Naobito cared enough to scold him (shall I make Tomoko involved? IF SHE WAS AROUND THOUGH THINGS WOULD'VE TURNED SO DIFFERENT) Damn I need to write a small drabble explaining what happened there, but in the meantime, it kind of went like this:

Ranta: What happened Naoya?

Naoya: nothing. *doesn't talk to anyone for weeks*

Ranta: That bad?

Naoya: :(

(he doesn't regret spending all that money on you. it's like a hobby of his lol he loves it.)

But anyways, I keep thinking that the third part for this series I would like something like an epilogue, a peak into the future…

Warnings: none. Fluff. A happy ending 😊. (By the way, this is the oneshot anon is referring to. Highly recommend reading this first!!!)

Happy reading!

“—And that, dumpling, was your papa’s and I first valentine’s day together! Kind of, not really, but it was the first time I got gifts from him. It was certainly different from what I expected, but if you look really closely, it was very sweet, and now, I’m able to look back on it fondly!” You smile; truly, who would’ve thought that you’d end up marrying that awkward, somewhat intense kid? And having a beautiful daughter too?

Though you could see in Naomi’s tense chubby face that this wasn’t exactly the romantic story she was hoping to hear, and you do not blame her, Naoya’s approach had been nothing short of alarming and unexpected, just enough to scare you off from ever considering something more from him!

But his subtle persistence, the small gestures he’d still give you even when openly denouncing he’ll never seek you again, is what eventually persuaded you otherwise.

Through his attentiveness when you were out on a mission with him, making sure that you were neither too cold nor too hot, either through offering you something to drink or his own sweater to wear.

Quick to save you from a curse that got too close, or a fellow student you were not in the mood to entertain.

Whenever you needed help with jujutsu—either a term you didn’t quite understand just yet, or plain practice. Naoya had much more experience than you, so it was only natural that you’d seek him; that wouldn’t change even with that awkward valentine’s interaction…

But above all, what made you see that Naoya might be the one you were waiting for all along, is the fact that he remembered all the things you liked, the ones that made you happy—from sweets, food, to even your favorite characters…

If his emotions weren’t genuine, he wouldn’t have done such a thing!

Perhaps your only regret is ever giving him the idea that you couldn’t come to appreciate him, or that he wasn’t deserving of love.

But that was long in the past, and after a few dates, and getting to know each other… you two fell in love.

Unfortunately, Naomi wouldn’t come to see it that way.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin? This isn’t the story you expected?” Naoya asks with a smile, enjoying the way she huffed in response—though that satisfaction wouldn’t last long.

“No, papa, you were creepy.” She pouted, and her mama could almost hear his heart shatter.

“Oh.” Naoya doesn’t even come to wonder how she knew of such word, undoubtedly from his cousins, but that would be a matter to tend to later after he mends his broken heart.

“Well, he’s done his due! Papa loves us very, very much and would never do anything to scare us!”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Naoya responds sarcastically. “That makes me feel much better.”

You giggle.

“Why don’t you leave us alone, pumpkin? Papa and I need to talk a bit.”

And Naomi obeys immediately after, not that it took much for her to do so, for her disappointment rapidly pushed her to seek something better, a bit more entertaining—like Mai and Maki’s daily occurrences, more ways to annoy her father and such.

Once alone, the two are able to freely look back on that fateful day…

“What I did back then was messed up, wasn’t it?” Naoya sighs.

“I wouldn’t say that necessarily.” You add.

“But nothing happened after that.” He says. “Things didn’t change until much later.”

“Well, I did get to see a new side of you, one I didn’t think you had.”

“What did you think of me…?”

“That you were… bold. Arrogant, a bit snobby too…” you say, Naoya’s face reddens out of shame.

“Don’t—Don’t say anything else.” He frowns. “I get the idea loud and clear…”

“But that you were sweet too.” You smile, taking his hand. “I’ve never been lucky enough to have someone hold such strong feelings for me… thought it to be something out of a fairy tale—Until I met you—someone that harbored so much love to give but didn’t know how to express it.”

“You make me sound much nobler than what I really am—I don’t know how you do it, Y/N…”

“It took me time to get there, love.” You laugh. “But it’s only because you’re so cute that I eventually thought otherwise.”

“Cute?” he huffs, ready to retort otherwise, until you lean in to kiss his cheek, gesture enough to have him willing. “Alright—but only you can call me that.”

“I better be the only one.” You warn. “Although I was hoping our dumpling would do so too when I told her our story…”

“…Well, I can’t blame her, it must’ve sounded crazy for her.” Naoya sighs. “…If someone dared do the same thing to my daughter you can be sure I’d send the kukuru to get rid of him! No jerk is going to impress her!”

“I don’t think that’ll happen; Naomi didn’t seem amused by us either way.” You reassure him. “And she’s too young to be worried about that too! All she cares about right now is when will her papa get her that kitten he promised her…”

“I’m working on it!” Naoya frets. “It’s just that kittens aren’t born until later in the year…”

“Well, let’s hope that you aren’t too late, something tells me that my sister might be already on the lookout…”

“NO, she’s not.” Naoya breathes. “I will never forgive her if she does!”

But you just shrug playfully, not really giving Naoya much of an opportunity to not worry about spoiling his daughter, fearing that he might lose the position of favorite human in the whole wide world against your sister! A rank Hinata has been coveting for as long as he could remember, competing with the rest of your family too…

A tough endeavor, though he’ll have something else to worry about now.

“By the way… I’m aware of what you did with what you did with the gifts.” You say, he freezes.

“Ho—How?” he blinks.

“Shoko told me. Mei Mei wasn’t that… fond of keeping secrets that were too juicy to hide.” You reveal.

“That woman… she told me that—!” but he goes silent, understanding there was a much bigger issue at hand. “…Are you angry with me?”

“Yes, so angry, that I’ve decided to personally torment you for the rest of our lives!” You tease, at the mischief of your voice, a weight is lifted from Naoya’s shoulders. “I was angry, but… it didn’t last long, considering that some of those gifts were from people I didn’t really want to be involved with… so, you kind of did me a favor… though I did have to go through a whole day thinking I didn’t get anything…”

“…I’m sorry—I might’ve gotten ahead of myself trying to impress you…”

“Well, for all the chocolate I missed back then, you made up for me, tenfold!” you grin, wrapping him in your arms and placing kisses all over his cheeks until you could no more. “I love you, Naoya—you and all of your bold, extravagant, though a bit silly, ways. So don’t worry about that anymore, not when it was the reason that brought us together.”

Naoya blushes, letting himself be consumed by the incessant demonstrations of your affection and the acceptance of your words, for there was honesty behind them—even when a rocky start, it ultimately fated the two together.

What was once nothing but a dream, one that seemed so far away on the day you rejected him…

Now was his everyday reality—if not better, for it brought along a small bundle of joy that made both of your lives happier, although there were moments where she didn’t feel particularly the same, unamused by her parent’s antics from time to time…

But even then, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

They got their happy ending nonetheless :') Really, that day was only the beginning for them. It was enough for Y/N to finally set her eyes on him!! And the rest is history 🥺❤️

Thankfully I do plan to write a bit more of this HS AU, you know, the simple things like them slowly falling in love 🥺 ajfghajkghajghjkas this has to be one of my favorite au's (if not the favorite haha) can't wait to write them in time.

Now, thank you so much for your support and patience 🥺❤️❤️!!!! I'm really glad you're liking my work!!!

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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