#or like just because i’m not a morning person?

[luveline]

oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)

adopted fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for panic attacks

You should call your brother. 

You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake. 

You read back his last message. 

I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you

You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him. 

You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right? 

He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“No. Are you busy?” 

“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?” 

“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.” 

“Are you calmed down?” 

“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.” 

“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”

“You can’t tell him.” 

“What?” 

“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?” 

“You don’t have to come.” 

“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.” 

You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind. 

Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual. 

You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.

You don’t have it in you to complain. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.” 

 Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?” 

“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.” 

“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.” 

Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?” 

Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you. 

Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.

“Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.” 

“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.

“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.” 

You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally. 

The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.” 

You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur. 

“I think my boss will forgive me.” 

You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly. 

“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly. 

“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.” 

“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.” 

He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.” 

You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too. 

“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.

He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache. 

Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens. 

You shuffle backward nonchalantly. 

Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday. 

“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?” 

“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.” 

“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you. 

You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.” 

“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises. 

Spencer squeezes your hand. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[rimunagenius]

I Could Die For you

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x reader

ʚ word count: 1.2k

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , fluff, fluff, literal fluff, so much love that it’s sickening

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: to make up for that last post about emily because what the flip!! also the first Kate fic i’ve released that hasn’t been in a series!! yay! also ofc i had to write Kate to one of my favorite love songs!!💕 if you guys do not listen to this song and love it, i’m quitting writing and reporting everyone’s blog…

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

Something inside the cards I know is right

Don't wanna live somebody else's life

Kate was so happy. She knew her life was exactly where she wanted it to be. Cold mornings like this, wrapped in the bed sheets, both your bodies wrapped together to create the most perfect fit to a puzzle.

With your head resting on her body, your nose nuzzling perfectly into her neck, your soft snores and exhales ticking her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

The way your hand rested on her chest, and the way Kate's hand rested on your waist from the way she was holding you into her body. She knew she didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Lying here, wide awake admiring you and thanking god or whoever was out there, that she was able to do this, and do it with you.

This is what I want to be

And this is what I give to you because I get it free

"Oh my god, Kate." You stood in shock in your guys' kitchen. You had a rough day at work, letting Kate know that while you sat in your office, counting down the minutes until you could come home. So when you walked through the door and wandered into the living room where Kate was watching the NBA finals, she got up to greet you and took you to the kitchen, giving you the flowers and chocolate she picked up on her way home from practice today. 

You had a new adjustments to make since leaving Iowa. Picking up your life and moving to Las Vegas with Kate when she found out she made the roster officially, after living in a hotel room during training camp. You loved her so much, and you had so much faith in the person she was and the skills she had, you knew moving across states wasn't going to be a regret you had years down the line. 

Tears welled in your eyes, the overwhelming feeling of love and appreciation radiating from the blonde who stood a few feet away. "Aw, don't cry. Why are you crying, baby?" Kate walked up to you, wrapping her arms around your neck so you buried your face into her chest. 

"Because. You do this for me just for having a bad day. Your days are full of stress with basketball, still proving yourself, and tired from your work. I don't deserve you, Kate." You were a mess. You missed a lot of things. You missed your old friends, how close your guys' family used to be, and you missed Kate while she was gone. You missed a lot of things—you've longed for those things, but you loved your life here with Kate. You two away from what you knew and grew accustomed to, to independently make what you want and need. 

You loved it but you couldn't help but long for what used to be your life sometimes. "You deserve everything. You deserve the world and more because you packed your life up just because you believed in me. This is the very least I could do for you. I will continue to show you how important you are to me and who I am. You make me better so I'm going to show you every day til I can't anymore. I love you. You work hard and you deserve to be appreciated and seen." 

That made the tears fall harder, but you looked up at Kate, and couldn't believe this was your girl. The woman you got to spend and do life with. You kissed her lips chastely, hugging her close again. You two stood there, looking at the pretty flowers and sharing some of your chocolate. 

She smiles while I do my time

It was so early in the morning. Kate waking you up for a travel day for the Aces. It was an away game to Los Angeles and you wanted to make this game so you took the days off. 

You hated getting up early, and the stress that came with traveling was truly not a great time. Kate knew it, but she loved that you were willing to do it for her.  You didn't like most things, but the look on your girlfriend's face when you watched her do the thing she loves most, play the game that gave her many of the amazing opportunities she's had, it was all worth it. 

Kate walked onto to the court, looking at you behind the Aces bench, and smiled. You already smiling right back at her. She knew that no matter how early she woke you up, or how many times she did it, you'd be there, lift her up, and cheer her on. You knew this was where you wanted to be. 

I could die for you

It was the day after Kate had won the WNBA Finals, and you two had been lying in bed since last night. You couldn't believe that she had come so far from the little girl who idolized the Iowa Hawkeyes Women's Basketball team, to a woman who's grown into the most tremendously courageous and strong woman who won her first WNBA Championship. It was so surreal. 

"You know I love you so much, right?" Kate whispered. One arm wrapped around you, pulling you close to her body, while her other hand held your thigh that lay across her hip. 

"I would hope so." You giggled softly, looking up at the blonde above you, your hand went from her chest to the side of her face, resting against her cheek. You looked into her eyes, the blue of them convincing you more by the second that they were better looking than the sky outside. 

"No, I'm serious. You are the love of my life. I would be so lost without you. I don't think I could live without you—let alone do what I've done this past year without you." Her voice wavered, you could tell her emotions still running high after the night she had last night. 

"Kate, my love." You chuckled nervously, the confession making you giddy, but also overwhelmingly more in love with Kate, if that was even possible. It brought tears to your eyes.

"You make me so happy. Just being right here, with you, is more important to me than winning another ring." 

"Oh my god Kate, stop it. You're going to make me cry. I'm so in love with you." You wiped a small tear that fell down your cheek. Kate smiled down at you, willing herself to not close her eyes and just die happy right here with you. 

"I'm so in love with you, I could die." Kate giggled softly, wiping her eyes before leaning down and kissing your lips softly. You smiled into the kiss. You smiled so hard you couldn't even kiss properly. A fit of giggles came from the both of you. 

"Ah! Kate, stop it! Oh my god, Kate!" You screamed and giggled as she left kisses and tickles everywhere she could reach, especially in your most ticklish spots. You two couldn't be anymore happier. Kate wouldn't want to be anywhere else unless you were there, under her arms or wrapped in them. 

Oh, this life I choose.

You two were just simply two girls in love and wouldn't have it any other way. 

#tumblrpost #writers on tumblr #rimunagenius speaks #kate martin #women’s basketball #wnba #wlw #kate martin wlw #kate martin headcannons #kate martin fanfic #kate martin x reader #wlw masterlist #sapphic wlw #wlw fanfic #wlw headcanons #wlw yearning #wlw community #wlw post #lesbian #lgbtq #kate martin is so cutie #i love her #red hot chili peppers #i could die for you #Spotify

[7ndipity]

He Forgets Your Birthday

Yoonig x Reader

Summary: You’ve always had a complicated relationship with your birthday, but Yoongi’s always there to comfort you. Until he isn’t.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: angst, comfort, swearing, suggestive at the end

A/N: Thanks to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request, I hope you like it!

Masterlist

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You never really liked your birthday.

For as long as you could remember, you could sense the looming feeling of dread and unease each year as the date drew closer. You don’t know what it was exactly, maybe it was because of how you were raised, maybe it was just a quirk of your personality, but whatever the reason, you could never shake the feeling of guilt, as if you were a burden to those around you.

Over the years though, you had been lucky enough to find a circle of people that, while they might not fully understand your feelings on the subject, made a point to make sure you felt special and remind you of how much they cared for you whenever that fateful day rolled around.

One of the best at this was Yoongi.

Yoongi had always had a particular knack for being able to read your emotions and understood your feelings about your birthday, he wasn’t exactly fond of his either, but that didn’t stop him from worrying whenever he noticed you growing more quiet and withdrawn as it approached.

He never pressured you to share what was going on in your mind in those times, but he always found little ways to let you know that he was there for you and to show how much he loved you.

It was never anything super elaborate; last year, the two of you just went to the movies, because he knew there was a particular film you’d been dying to see.

It never really mattered to you what you did though, so long as you were together, you were happy.

Though, time together had been rather hard to come by the past few months.

Yoongi had been busier than ever, traveling and working relentlessly in preparation for his new album. Most nights he was holed up at the studio til 2 or 3 in the morning working on songs.

You worried about him over extending himself, but he assured you that he had it all under control, that he was able to keep up with everything.

It was another one of those late nights at the studio as he sat hunched over his soundboard when the sound of his phone finally managed to break through his hyperfocus.

Glancing at his phone, he face pulled into a slight frown as he read the text notification from Namjoon.

“How’s Y/n?”

“Fine, I think. Why??” He sent back, confused by the random question.

“Idk, she just seemed a bit down earlier when I sent a happy b-day msg”

“Her birthday’s not till tomorrow-

”Oh fuck.” He swore out loud, checking the date on with a sink stomach as he realized his horrible mistake.

Jumping to his feet, he felt his heart drop again at the sight of the time on his phone screen.

10:02pm.

“Fuck.” He cursed again, nearly running down the hall to the elevators. He couldn’t believe he’d mixed up the days so badly. How could he have fucked up something like this?

Had you realized yet? Most likely, he hadn’t heard anything from you since your usual morning texts. You must’ve been so upset, how was he ever going to make up for this to you?

He practically ran up the stairs to your apartment, knocking frantically on the door and begging that you weren't so mad that you wouldn't answer.

As soon as you opened the door, he tackled you in a crushing bear hug.

“Yoongi, what-?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He mumbled into your neck.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“Your birthday.” He felt you stiffen slightly.

Pulling away to look at you, his heart broke further as he noticed the faint redness around your eyes.

“I got the days mixed up, I thought it was tomorrow,” He explained guiltily. “I’m so sorry, Jagi.”

You looked down, nodding slowly.

“It’s okay.” You said softly, voice still somewhat croaky from your earlier bout of crying.

“It’s not, though. I should’ve been here.” He said, growing more upset with himself.

“You’ve been busy, I get it.”

“That's no excuse,” He said. “I still fucked up.”

“It’s fine, Yoongi, really.” You said tiredly, wanting desperately to just forget the whole thing.

“No, it isn’t-” He insisted, gripping onto your hand as you tried to draw away.

“Yoongi, please.” The last word comes out far more broken than you intended it to, betraying your true emotions that you’d been trying to stamp down all evening.

Before you could help it, the tears you had been trying to hold back broke free, dripping down your cheeks and onto your joined hands.

Yoongi instantly pulled you to his chest, hugging you tightly as he backed the two of you into your apartment.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Jagi.” He whispered over and over, softly stroking your hair as your tears dampened his shirt.

After a few minutes once your sobs quieted, he pulled back to see your face.

“Are you okay?” He asked gently.

You nodded.

He led you over to the couch, still keeping you close as you sat silently for a moment.

“Are you angry?” He asked quietly.

You shook your head, biting your lip.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He pleaded, his dark eyes boring into your own.

You thought for a moment, taking a deep, steadying breath.

“I know that you love and care about me” You began slowly. “And I know you would never do anything to intentionally hurt me, but… not hearing from you, not even getting a text or something… I don’t know, it just kinda stirred up those old feelings and thoughts of how easily I could be forgotten, what if people don’t actually like me, what if they just tolerate me in their lives...”

Your voice was almost inaudible by the end, not wanting to fully admit the deprecating thoughts that were going through your mind.

Yoongi teared up at your words. He knew he’d asked, but hearing you say it aloud broke his heart; to know he’d scratched those old wounds and caused you to doubt yourself crushed him inside.

“Look at me,” He said seriously, turning to face you. “Those thoughts? Nothing could be further from the truth. You mean more to me than anything in the fucking world. I know I fucked up today, but I need you to know that there is nothing that could ever make me forget about you. You are the first and last thought in my mind every single day. Understand?”

You nodded, wiping away a few more stray tears that had slipped out.

“C’mere.” He pulled you into another tight embrace, kissing your temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You muttered, tucking your face in the crook of his neck.

“If you want, we could still do something? Try and enjoy the last couple hours of the day, at least?” He offered

You shook your head. “I just want to be with you.”

He nodded, shifting around on the couch and pulling you onto his lap, holding you close.

“I love you.” He whispered again, running his soothing hands over your hips.

“I know.” You said, equally soft, cradling his face in your hands as you drew him in to connect your lips.

He kissed you deeply, trying to channel just how much you meant to him through the action, hands coming up to hold your waist, pressing you even closer.

He would never hurt you like this again, he swore to himself, pressing you closer to him. He would do everything in his power to remind you how much you meant to him every chance he got.

You sighed, looping your arms around his neck as you let yourself drift in the feeling of him all around you, the scent of his cologne, the soft sounds that left him as his lips drifted down the expanse of your throat, the way his hips twitched beneath you when you tugged at his hair.

Suddenly, he tipped you back on the couch, coming to hover over you, breathing unsteady as he stared down at you with an intensity that made you shiver.

“Happy birthday, Y/n.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0o0o0ooo @universal-travel-er @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

#yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi oneshot #yoongi angst #yoongi comfort #yoongi fluff #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts requests #bts drabble #bts one shot #bts scenarios #bts comfort #bts angst #bts fluff #7ndipity

[chosows]

i think it would be nice if like there was a one shot about us having a kid with him i think that would be perfect for a one shot

i’m assuming this is about sukuna—if i’m wrong i’m sorry anon, i’ll take my mind out from the depths of the filthy sukuna gutter

FATHERLY DUTIES

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem Reader

Summary: Pregnancy was an experience Sukuna had never expected to be bestowed upon him; you as his wife are bringing his child into the world. It’s a journey filled with joys and challenges, something he hopes to face successfully hand in hand with the woman he trusts most. Who would’ve known that such a pure life could stem from someone so corrupt?

Word count: 2.2k

Contains: Established relationship, pregnancy, brief smut, Sukuna being smitten, brief description of sex, slice of life, alternative universe: Sukuna is human

Note: making this bow divider took longer than me actually writing this, i hope it resembles bows (੭ ˊ^ˋ)੭ — don’t be afraid to request, i’ll get around to them when i have time

DURING THE PREGNANCY

Pregnancy is a wonderful gift; the ability to bring a child into the world with the person you adore should be cherished. However, the experience is far from being as glamorous as you imagined it to be. What seemed to be a breeze for everyone else hit you ten times harder—you’re experiencing it all. Bloating, morning sickness, general nausea, a weak bladder, and the list goes on. You convince yourself it’s all worth it to bring your beacon of joy into the world, but it feels as though you’re barely clinging on. 

As a man, he would never understand the extremes you experience daily with this growing life inside of you—though any set of eyes could see it was obvious you were struggling, even his. To lighten your workload, he subtly began taking over house tasks; encouraging you to get your rest was similar to asking a wolf to play fetch—you were not giving him an easy time. Claiming that just because you are pregnant you aren’t capable of taking care of chores anymore is insulting and then whining due to the aches you get after completing them; it’s a constant game of tug of war with no winning side. Since your hormones are all over the place, it is best to allow you to have your way; arguing with you won’t help anyone, and it could cause issues with the development of your child.

Observing your bump growing throughout the duration made him realise this was now his reality; half of him and half of you created this new soul. He never believed he could feel so fondly of someone he had never met, how a soon-to-be human who is currently smaller than the palm of his hand could alter him in ways he wouldn’t imagine he could change. If there is a given opportunity when you allow him to feel your belly, he would take it in an instant; the movement in which your child shifts and manoeuvres is almost as though it recognises his presence—showing favouritism to its father before they are even acquainted. The way in which he massages your hips and presses his lips to your stomach reminds you of all the reasons why you chose to settle down with him of all people. Sukuna may not be the most put-together man but he swears by his vows to raise this child right with you. The mistakes of his past will be discarded, life handed him this new slate filled with a multitude of opportunities—you were the angel sent to guide him on the right path, and you sure looked the part with how elegant you were in your flowy maternity clothes and lazy hairstyles.

Weight fluctuations are inevitable, but the bitter reality of realising some of your favourite clothing pieces don’t fit correctly anymore hits you hard. Your body has to adjust its shape and your child needs the nutrients; it would be vain to only care for your looks rather than the health of your baby. Instead of throwing out your old clothes, Sukuna emptied half of his side of the wardrobe for you to store them there—it’s not guaranteed you return to your original size any time soon, but it wouldn’t hurt to hold onto them for the memories they carried. He finds you to be as attractive as you once were; you look completely identical in his eyes, your clothing size is nothing but a number—the shape and curves of your body make you who you are, his special girl. Sukuna had stopped working out as much as he used to, claiming he was bulking and putting on weight of his own; while it was the truth, the reality was he didn’t want you to go through this change alone. It can be daunting and weigh on your conscience, but it should never affect you—a woman whose beauty can only be experienced. No matter the skill of a painter, they would find it impossible to encapsulate so much splendour on a canvas.

“A nursery wouldn’t be hard to build; we don’t need to pay anyone. I could do that myself.”— He said. While you are resting on the sofa, minding your business flicking through a magazine, the sounds of crashing and cursing sound out from upstairs. It’s hard to restrain a chuckle before you shout up to check in on him, and his tone instantly shifts from gruff to mellow, doing his best to convince you all is well while half the crib he spent hours on just collapsed. You give it to him that he is a handyman—he is just far too impatient to read instruction manuals. Ignorance is not always bliss, especially if the crib his child is supposed to sleep in keeps plummeting to the ground. The walk of shame through the living room to grab his thin framed reading glass was silent; he didn’t dare to look you in the eyes since he could already picture the smug expression on your face. Proving him wrong was like a punch to the gut; it flattened his almighty ego to the floor, burying it amongst the dirt. There is a strange guilt summoned when you acknowledge his inaudible struggles, so the two of you join forces. You knelt on the rug of the nursery, reading the instructions out loud while he did the handy work. It’s a job well done when the room you envisioned comes to life, all the blissful colours to stimulate the imagination and the variety of stuffed animals patiently waiting to greet their new friend—it’s everything you could’ve hoped for, you pray your child will love it there as much as you do.

Many pregnant women state their sex life runs dry, but yours has taken the turn for the opposite. Whether it be your pheromones growing stronger due to the hormones or him appreciating the strength it takes to become a mother, he could not take his hands off of you. Sex was something he initially hesitated on during your first trimester; he feared that too much activity might render you eligible for a miscarriage since it was so early on. When you began becoming more stable and combating the pregnancy symptoms with ease, that’s when the two of you slipped back to your usual bedroom routine. You were limited to few positions, but seeing you in missionary was something he could never catch himself complaining about. Not only was your belly growing, your breasts were too—you had simply gotten him awestruck by doing nothing but existing. What a woman’s body is capable of is truly spectacular; who wouldn’t be captivated by the beauty of it? His thrusts were much gentler than usual; it felt as though you were having intercourse with a different person due to how careful he was being. It become more sensual, the bond between the two of you stronger than it had ever been. His eyes were filled with warmth as he gazed down at you, smiling softly while the back of his hand brushed against your cheek. No one had ever belonged to him before, nor had he belonged to anyone; it was a beautiful transition into this freshly blossoming future. He finally has discovered his sense of belonging is with you by his side. His idea to snap a picture of your belly during the weeks of growth led to half of a photo album filled with images of you, there for you to reminisce on after you enter labour.

AFTER THE PREGNANCY

Delivering a child was the most chaotic yet eye-opening experience for both of you—more so him who watched it from a fully different perspective, seeing everything up close. He never felt ill, nor was he disgusted; it was amazing how you carried around this bundle of life like it was nothing. While you were dosed on the epidural, he came out of the delivery room with gashes on his hands from the force your nails dug into him. There was no gender reveal since it was decided you wanted it to be a surprise, placing your separate bets on what the baby could be. Even though he wanted a boy, as soon as he saw his baby girl resting in your arms, he fell in love with her. Though she had a sparse head of hair, it was a similar colour to his. In his arms, she barely existed—nothing but a mere dot with her little white hat on. It was rewarding to see how far he come since you first met him; you couldn’t be more proud of him. You didn’t intend to change him, but he altered himself in ways he thought were necessary. He kept his witty humour and arrogance, the two things that truly make him who he is. It wouldn’t be your Sukuna if he wasn’t a handsome pain in the ass, finding ways to tease you yet also ways to comfort you and make you laugh in desperate times.

When you had taken the childcare classes for new parents before going into labour, he outdid himself in all preparations; he was like the student who thoroughly studied for the exam months before it even arrived. The reason he had been trying so hard is due to his fear of hurting the baby—he finds himself being rough without realising, often making the same mistakes while handling you. During nights, she would screech down the baby monitor right beside his ear, causing you both to stir. The duty of checking in on her was split on a makeshift roster, but you had been growing exhausted progressively with each passing day. Since there are days when he is up later than you, he sees to her to prevent the sudden outbursts happening during the early hours of the morning. She would weep and fuss until he took her into his arms. When she’d go silent, he would lean to lay her back down until she started up her cries again. The only thing that would calm her down was being held by her father.

Time flies by with the new addition to the household; your daughter is now able to grasp onto her favourite teddy bears at five months old. Her wardrobe is bigger than yours, and she managed to successfully steal the heart of your husband—the only competitor. All three of you would spend half of the day playing, chatting with her in the room since it would aid her mental skills. She seemed pleased seeing both of her parents, watching the two of you chatter and share innocent displays of affection. Her cooing noises would make you both grin; Sukuna couldn’t believe one of his creations could be so pure and full of love. Others told him he was nothing but distant and incapable of kindling sincere connections, but he managed to prove those who held a lack of faith in him wrong. He will admit that there were times he found the idea of love far too corny for a man like him, but accepting it into his life made it so much brighter, giving it a completely new meaning.

There came many troubles and stressful situations, but the excitement of raising a child made them all irrelevant to Sukuna. The two of you finally made time for an at-home date, sharing two light drinks and a meal. Men who fall out of love with their wives after they become mothers are nothing but weak in his eyes—if they cannot deal with one minor change, they would never amount to anything in life that involves them stepping free from their cowardly safety net. If anything, this journey made him realise how he truly wishes you would be the person who will die by his side; part of him hopes the two of you find a way to bypass death and live on together for eternity—it wouldn’t hurt to be optimistic. In the bedroom, he stripped himself free of his clothes, his gigantic figure looming over you while he stared down at you. He climbed on top of you, pinning your hands to your sides while he stole a kiss—yearning for your affection greater than ever before. That sparkle in your eyes never left; he remembers seeing it ignite for the first time when he first kissed you all those years ago.

“You are quite the woman, you know?” Sukuna hums, rubbing his nose against yours while his hair brushes across your forehead.

“I know, don’t you just love me so much?” You tease, poking your tongue out as you grin.

“I do, more than anything. You’ll always be my number one girl; our little angel comes in close second.” 

“I used to be your angel” Your voice winds in a whiny tone, widening your eyes and curving your lips down to appear upset.

“You still are,” He kisses your cheek while his hand trails down to the waistband of your panties, twanging it against your skin as he speaks, “I miss your bump.”

“Do you want another baby?” You beam at him, your eyes crinkling and your hand squeezing his.

“If you want one, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

#jjk sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jjk #oneshot #ryomen sukuna #alternate universe #smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna

[dilrmma]

soccer!captain boyfriend ━━━ nrk. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ nishimura riki as your boyfriend

wc 702 (0.7k) ✶ masterlist

nishimura riki who leaves a drink he got at the cafeteria on your desk every morning before you come in

“they didn’t have the on you liked, so i got you chocolate instead.” riki stands beside your desk with his hands in his pockets as he watches you grab the drink. “you really didn’t have to riki.” “i wanted to.”

nishimura riki who likes to tease you by hiding your pencil case or work book so he can have an excuse to talk to you

nishimura riki who does anything he can to get you both in trouble so you can be in detention together and he has more time to spend with you

nishimura riki who shares his earbuds with you in class and has a specifically curated playlist for you with songs you said you like

nishimura riki who stares at you shamelessly just to watch you blush under his gaze

nishimura riki who flirts with you because he knows about the tiny crush you have on him

“so, what’s your type?” he asks one day while he soplays with your hair. “is it me?” he raises his eyebrows, teasing you but in reality he hopes you say yes.

nishimura riki who invites you to his soccer game with plans on asking you out after + he makes you wear his jersey so everyone knows you’re his

soccer captain!riki who asks you out with an entire poster board held up by his teammates and a bouquet of your favorite flowers

soccer!captain riki who leaves his team zip up at your place so you can wear it to school (also because he loves when it smells like you)

soccer!captain riki who walks you home everyday without fail even though he’s always late to his practice

soccer!captain riki who won’t shut up about you in the locker room and everyone knows who you are despite not meeting you properly

soccer!captain riki who tries hard every game and practice to impress you knowing you’re in the stands watching him

“put your shirt down!” heeseung yells as riki wipes his sweat off—showing his abs and smirking.

soccer!captain riki who introduces himself as your boyfriend to all your friends

soccer!captain riki who thinks your kisses are his lucky charm and cannot go to the field without one of your pecks

“why aren’t you playing?” you run your hands through his hair as he pouts. “you didn’t give me my kiss.” his arms are crosses and he huffs until you give in.

soccer!captain riki who has a shrine of you in his locker and occasionally has conversations with you before his practice (he’s insane)

soccer!captain riki who goes all out for valentine’s day and sends a flower to you every class period until you have a full bouquet

“did you like my surprise?” his arm is around your shoulder as he walks through the halls. “it was nice riki, thank you.” “there’s still more.”

soccer!captain riki who gets jealous easily and doesn’t like it when you give someone else *his* undivided attention, so he gives you the cold shoulder

however, he doesn’t last long until he’s spamming your phone and showing up at your house for late night cuddles

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to ignore you.” he mutters while he hides in the crook of your neck feeling nervous but also accomplished.

soccer!captain riki who buys you matching jewelry and clothes because he feels connected even when you both are away from one another

soccer!captain riki who teaches you how to play soccer so he can brag to all his teammates

“so, i’ve been thinking that jake should be replaced by my girlfriend.” “stop it!”

soccer!captain riki who claims that the reason he exists is to be your boyfriend

soccer!captain riki who isn’t shy to say he loves you with all his heart

“i think you’re the coolest person ever, i love you.” he randomly says one night as you both go for a walk, but ultimately you feel the same

#© dilrmma! #repost & revamp #enhypen #enhypen blurbs #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen scenarios #enhypen timestamps #enhypen angst #enhypen comfort #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen niki #enhypen nishimura riki #enhypen riki #nishimura riki #nishimura riki enhypen #riki enhypen #riki imagines #riki scenarios #riki x reader #riki fluff #riki angst #riki enha

[magics-neptunes-things]

Forever

Hi guys!

You were waiting for this one for a long time but it's finally here! This is Luna's elopement fic.

As always, this is a fiction, so it's purely coming from my mind. Please enjoy this one and tell me what you thought about it!

TW : None, I think. Maybe a little of chaos.

Lucy is tired, like bloody tired. Her and her team just won the cup of the Champions League yesterday and she’s still hungover from the party last night. She regretted bitterly her choice of drink this morning when the alarm went on, asking her to get up to get on the bus and then the plane. They had to be in Barcelona in the afternoon to present the cup at all the Cùlers and for some random talking with people in suit.

She’s not as hungover as Cata though, the woman practically snoring during the ceremony, much to her friends’ amusement.

To distract herself during the speeches that she finds rather annoying, Lucy is looking at her girlfriend. Standing right in front of her, Ona seems to be listening for the people who don’t know her, but Lucy knows better. Ona’s eyes are a little off, but Lucy can’t say if it’s because she’s bored or because she’s in pain.

The cuts she had because of her fall on their opponent’s boot is sharp, she needed three stitches on her cheek. The other one is way to close to her eyes to do anything. Lucy feels the bile running up her throat every time she remembers that her girlfriend could have lost an eye that night.

The English woman frowns when she sees Ona rubbing her injured eye, the scarring itching terribly. But the team’s doctors clearly specified that Ona should touch her eye as little as possible for a quick and optimal recovery.

“Ona” Lucy gently scolds her.

The younger pouts and crosses her arms on her breast, making Lucy smiles softly. She can’t wait to go home, find their dogs and sleep for the next three days before she has to go to national camp in England.

Thanks God they stop soon to talk, and Lucy is relieved to be able to go home. She even grabs Ona’s bags and push her in the direction of her car when they are released. Ona laughs slightly but let her do, looking for her keys in her pocket while Lucy puts their bag in the car.

“What do you think you're doing, Batlle?” Lucy tsk her when Ona sits behind the wheel.

“Going home?” Ona frowns.

“Get out of here. I’m the one driving, you almost lost an eye.”

“Lucia I can drive.”

Ona is sulking and Lucy rolls her eyes. The Catalan girl is the nicest and sweetest person in the world, but Lucy swears that she never met someone as suborn as her girlfriend. Which she likes very much, even if she sometimes seems to forget that she needs to take care of her.

“Sure Cyclops. Let’s sit on the passenger’s seat yeah?”

Ona frowns harder and try to make her girlfriend changes her mind, but she realizes soon that she doesn’t stand a chance. Lucy usually gets Ona what she wants, but not if she knows that it isn’t good for Ona.

The drive home is long, the journey who is usually thirty minutes is far from being finish and yet they only made several kilometers in one hour and an half.

“You can sleep if you want, Bonita” Lucy says softly at her girlfriend.

Ona was lost in the contemplation of the streets, but she turns her head in Lucy’s direction with a soft smile.

“I know. I prefer enjoying my time with you though. I three days we will be separated again.”

Lucy smiles softly, very carefully stroking Ona’s face. The wound looks better than yesterday but it still seems hurtful. But Ona isn’t the kind of girl to complain about anything.

“You’ll be careful with that beautiful face of yours, yeah?”

Ona hums only. She doesn’t want to have a big, awful and permanent scar on her face, but they don’t really let them be gentle during Spanish camp.

“I asked Alexia to keep an eye on you anyway.”

Ona whines, much to Lucy’s amusement. She knows what she was doing when she asked that to Alexia, their captain will be around Ona during all the camp, probably snapping her hand away every time Ona will want to scratch her face.

“How can you do that to me?” Ona groans.

“I did it because I love you” Lucy smiles, rolling her eyes.

“You definitively don’t love me as much as you say. If it was right, you would never betray me this way.”

“You are so dramatic” Lucy laughs softly.

“All that I’ll retain from this conversation is that I love you more than you love me.”

“That’s not true” Lucy frowns.

“It is. I’m the one who love you the most but that’s ok.”

With a satisfy smile, Ona shrugs before taping Lucy’s hand on her thigh. This discussion is going again and again between them, a childish and sweet fight that none of them want to give up.

“Ok” Lucy says after several seconds of silence. “If you love me so much, marry me.”

There is another moment of silence.

“Qué?”

Ona is looking at her girlfriend with wide eyes, seriously asking herself if Lucy lost her mind. But Lucy is looking at her seriously.

“Are you still drunk?” Ona asks, arching an eyebrow.

“No. I am very serious, Ona. I love you. I know you are the love of my life. You are the one I want to finish my life with, I’ve never be so sure about anything in my whole life. I don’t have a ring, but I’ll change that as soon as possible. I want to marry you.”

This is unreal for Ona. Of course, she already thought about marrying Lucy one day, because she’s sure that Lucy is the love of her life too. Lucy flipped her life upside down, in the best way possible. The situation is unreal, but the answer she gives seems to be as much.

“Ok”

“Yes? Will you marry me?”

“Yes” Ona smiles softly.

Even if this isn’t the most convenient marriage proposal, there still is some tears in Lucy’s eyes. And the smile she gives to Ona makes Ona’s heart fluttered. But then, Lucy is suddenly turning on the road, taking the opposite street of their apartment.

“Lucy what are you doing?”

“We are going to the airport, taking the next plane for Las Vegas. I want to marry you right now.”

“What? But Lucy the dogs? Our parents are going to kill us!”

“Coco and Narla can stay a little longer to your parents. And we will make a ceremony with everyone in several days. I just don’t want to pass another day without you being called my wife.”

The tender smile Ona gives her talk for her. She wrote to her parents to ask them to keep the dogs a little bit longer, explaining that Lucy and her are taking surprised holidays. She doesn’t say why and where though.

While Lucy is looking for a place on the parking, Ona is looking at the first plane leaving for Las Vegas. She managed to find one leaving in five hours, choosing to be in business class, after all they are getting married, right? They let their suitcases from the game in the car, choosing to buy new clothes in the airport. And because they are in business class, they have the lounge and the possibility to take a shower before landing.

Their seats are next to each other on the plane, but when they are on the sky, Ona chooses to escalate the wall between them to sit next to Lucy. Well, on Lucy. In the darkness of the plane and night, they cannot be seen from anyone, not that their embrace has anything looking like Pegi 18 anyway. Lucy just had passed her hand under Ona’s shirt to stroke her back and they are under a cover.

“Lucy?” whispers Ona.

It’s dark and quiet, people around them are sleeping or watching a movie from the television in front of them.

“What is it, Bonita?” Lucy whispers in answer.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We still can enjoy our time in Las Vegas, we are not forced to get married if you want to change your mind.”

“Are you scared?” Lucy smiles.

“No” Ona answers, putting her head again on Lucy’s shoulder. “I’m only scared that you will regret it the next morning.”

“Never.”

To add power to her answer, Lucy squeezes her harder against her, making Ona smile. She then kisses her hair, even if the shampoo she used isn’t the same one she’s using daily. Her natural scent is still here though, Lucy loves to think that Ona smell like sun, sand, and holidays.

Lucy smiles when she sees Ona yawning, the last days were chaotic. They were great, but very tiring and they haven’t many times to rest. They sleep a lot during the long trip, catching their lake of sleep, before landing to Philadelphia to take another plane.

“People are wondering where we are going” Ona smiles while looking at her messages during their stopover to Philadelphia.

“Tell them Lesbos Island” Lucy answer, looking at Ona’s phone above her shoulder.

Ona rolls her eyes and bite in the croissant she received during the journey. It’s not as good as the one she had in France, but still ok for an empty stomach.

“People are going to be wild when they’ll know” Lucy adds soon after. “How do you think we can say it to them?”

“If we want to keep the clichés, we can send them a picture of us next to a fake Elvis.”

********

They arrive at Las Vegas after several more hours, choosing one of the most expensive suites in the hotel Ona likes the most – The Venetian. Even if the younger one tried to protest, Lucy makes her shut with only one gaze.

“This is wild” Ona mumbles, looking at the view they have from it.

They are on the 36th floor and can see almost everything around. She lost herself in the contemplation of the streets and the lights, while Lucy is busy turning of the air conditioning who is always making her sick, after what she says.

She then takes several seconds to look at Ona, who turned her back at her. She’s smiling while looking at the smaller one. Even if it’s look like a whim, she knows what she’s doing. She was thinking about proposing to Ona for several weeks now, she wanted to do things right with a sweet proposal and everything. She still can make the surprise to Ona when she got the ring.

She is so in love with Ona.

She is so in love and is going to marry her.

It’s sometimes scary for Lucy to admit to herself how much her happiness depends of that wonderful and beautiful girl in front of her. She doesn’t understand how someone like Ona can be interested in her.

Sure, Lucy knows that a lot of people fancy her, she’s not stupid. But she’s older than Ona and she won’t be able to play football for as long as Ona would. But when she talked about it to Ona, the younger girl just smirk and answer that she would like this has a lot of time to choose her clothes for her wagging era.

Feeling a rush of love for the girl in front of her, Lucy breaks the distance between them in three big strides, before embracing Ona from behind.

“What if you’re the one regretting this tomorrow?” Lucy asks quietly, for once letting out some form of vulnerability.

“I won’t” Ona answers.

Her tone is so sure that there is no reason for Lucy to doubt about it. Ona turns around in Lucy’s arms, passing hers around Lucy’s neck.

“T'estimaré per tota la vida” she whispers, before kissing Lucy softly. (I’ll love you for all my life)

Lucy’s progresses in Catalan are prodigious, thanks to her personal teacher, which allows her to easily understand what Ona has just whispered against her lips. She doesn’t have time to answer though, carried away by the extent of Ona’s kiss.

“Is it a way not to leave this room and not to get married, miss Batlle?”

“I can’t believe we’ve done it” Ona mumbles, looking at the pictures on her phone.

They are on their way back to Barcelona, after a stop at Dallas this time. They haven’t said anything to anyone about their marriage, like Lucy said, they will make a ceremony for their families and Lucy even planned a way to offer a magic proposal to Ona with the ring she will find in Barcelona.

She looked for jewelry in Barcelona when Ona fell asleep in her arms after having celebrated their wedding.

“Still no regret?” Lucy whispers, looking at Ona’s phone above the armrest between them.

“Never.”

A sweet smile is on Ona’s face when she looks at her girlfr… wife. Even if they have to make the contract acknowledged in Spain. They are travelling during the day this time and people are obviously more up than during the first fly. Lucy sulks when she realizes that Ona won’t be able to join her on her seat like before, but then Ona grabs her hand and never let it go since. She can live with that.

“I always thought that the big Elvis' was a myth to be honest” Lucy comments when she sees the photo where they are posing next to him. “It was like a movie.”

“Yeah. I liked that movie though; the first actress is hot” Ona smirks.

“The Spaniard with the scar? Yes. Hot and badass.”

********

When Lucy’s back from the England Camp, Ona had the time to make their marriage contract recognized. She went back home from the camp after deciding that it was better for her face that way. She was sad not to be able to play with Leila again, but it was safer that way. She went to training with Patri and Mapi and passed time with Narla and Coco.

She went to take Lucy from the airport and Lucy already started to look for the right ring. She looked for several days before making the choice to have it custom-made. Lucy wants it to be perfect.

They managed to keep the secret for now, the only difference is that Lucy calls Ona “Wifey” at home now and that they can’t keep their hands away of each other. They are not making out in public, but they are impossible to separate. And when they are on each side of one room, they keep look and smile at each other.

“Can you please stay focus and stop drooling on Ona for a second, Bronze?” Mariona asks, hitting Lucy behind her head.

“I’m not drooling” Lucy frowns, showing Mariona away.

“You are” Mariona laughs.

But then Mario’s laugh drags Ona’s attention – who was talking with Salma and Jana - and she smirks at Lucy who kind of forgot why she’s supposed to be mad at her friend. The calm of the room is suddenly broken by a roar coming from Alexia’s voice as soon as she enters it.

“LUCIA ROBERTA TOUGH BRONZE!”

Lucy jumps and look at their captain like a teenager in trouble without knowing what she did bad. But the blonde came right in front of Lucy with a paper, the room suddenly quiet.

Lucy gets pale when she sees the sheet and Ona doesn't need longer explanations to understand what it is. However, Alexia doesn't hesitate to give more details.

“I was helping the administrative team to make the papers for our next trip, and they told me about this funny mistake, like they said. I did my research and it’s look like it isn’t actually a mistake. So will you please tell me why and how in the world it is written black on white that you are married to Ona Batlle Pascual?”

Ona makes a grimace when she feels almost all the eyes on the room going on her. It isn’t the way she wanted to tell people, but she can see Mapi from the corner of her eyes who seems to have the time of her life.

“You choose Lucy, Oni? What about us?” Jana jokes, but she is suddenly silent when she crosses Alexia’s eyes.

“Come on Ale’, what was I supposed to do? Ask you before asking her?” Lucy rolls her eyes.

“Well at least. Then I would have refused and took Ona on a secret island” Alexia groans.

“Your kids are growing up, Alexia, get over it” Irene says, patting Alexia shoulders. “Ask Pina about her love life, you’ll be stunned” she adds, before leaving the room.

“WHAT?!”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #woso one shot #lucy and ona #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

hiiii! Can I request all mercs w/ somebody who doesn’t talk due to self consciousness, but to an extreme? Like smbody who only says a few words a month and talks rly quiet.

if you need to choose specific mercs, either medic, sniper, or Engi <3

/p

(Some) TF2 Mercs and a semi silent S/O

Warning: Medic. Just Medic in general honestly.

—————————-

Engineer:

- To be honest, he has no idea how to cope with this at first and he’s rather thrilled to meet somebody like this. Engineer talks people’s ears off when they’re willing to listen and you’re no exception. Your silence makes his flood gates of pointless information open up and one could easily mistake him for Scout in this moment.

- Uhhh… Why aren’t you responding to his theory on black holes? Eh, who cares. He stops talking after a while and you watch him scribble calculations on a small sticky note mindlessly. He doesn’t seem too offended by it. He’s more than happy to sit in somebody’s presence quietly all night.

- Engineer starts to notice after a while that you just.. RARELY talk at all. Not that it bugs him much, but he starts to suspect some sort of trauma disorder.. Or something along those lines. His mind is going crazy with possibilities as to why but ultimately never asks out of worry he’ll erode something you left behind in the past.

- Prolonged and completely dead silent eye contact is rather easy for you with him. Even if this doesn’t naturally come easily. You can’t make out any eyes behind those dark goggles of his. Oddly comforting.

- You swore you caught a smug smile creep up on his face a bit when you finally do say something. As if he was thinking ‘AHA! I knew my charisma would pay off eventually.’ This gotcha moment for him makes his ego massively inflate. This is Engineer. What do you expect? He knows he’s smart, and always plays his cards right. Manipulative bastard.

—————————————————————————

Sniper:

- Notices you’re starting to hang out with him more in a window he likes to camp at. He properly identified you as a fellow introvert from the start. Your mutism is noted, your presence is noted.. and rudely fucking ignored.

- Sniper doesn’t typically find anybody too interesting. Yes, even those who are quiet. He’s not a people person by any means, and only feels intrigue rarely. I guess you were that rare person evidently. He never even looks your way even ONCE as you sit there with him, but today was different. You saw his attention divert momentarily.

- “At least Y/N doesn’t fuckin’ talk my ears off like a bloody nonce trying to proclaim his innocence to a brick wall. You wanna know who drives me the LEAST insane in this bin? People like them. People who don’t talk their arses off and instead focus on a clean shot. Focus on the bloody job.”

- Next, you find an extra cup of coffee on the table in the nest that morning. It’s clearly not meant for him and you’re the only person who sits with him. He doesn’t even look at you as you pick it up.

- Begins to become slightly irritated when you break routine and don’t show up. Starts grumpily asking around for you and you notice this quite quickly. Dude has completely let his emotions clear to you and he’s oblivious to it. The reason you were absent that day is because you needed extra bed rest. (Existence is tiring.)

- You wake up to find him sitting at the edge of your bed reading a fucking newspaper. Yes, i’m not even joking. He’s so angry at you for not showing up that he decided to show up for you.

————————————————————————-

Medic:

- Medic doesn’t.. Process empathy/compassion like most people do. I’ve alluded to this before. He is very, very bad with emotions. For some reason your silence bugs him in a certain way. It worries him slightly, and he REALLY doesn’t like it. Especially since he can’t exactly ask the cause of it. He wouldn’t get a clear response back. Or just get shrugged off and assured it was nothing.

- You sit at the opposite side of his desk and hang out with him every night. Your sleep schedule had been recently fucked. Medic doesn’t even try to tell you to go to bed or school you on a night’s rest like he would everyone else. Instead when he’s not writing, he taps his pencil on the desk and stares at you… menacingly. Is he judging you?! He narrows his eyes. He’s definitely judging you. He has to be. Right?

- Indirect and awkward staring contest for a fucking hour. You begin to grow nervous because it’s like he’s trying to fucking beam thoughts directly into your head telepathically. It looks like he’s trying to use the fucking force to choke you. What the hell is going on through his head? Was he thinking about gutting you like he’s expressed for pretty much everyone else?!

- Stops staring to get up and use his coffee machine. Comes back and continues staring. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON??!?!

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #medic x reader #tf2 x reader #engineer x reader #sniper x reader

[cameronluvr]

BRUISES — toxic!rafe cameron x routledge!reader ; john b x sister!reader

summary: your brother sees a bruise on your neck, but it isn’t a hickey. he questions you about it, but it quickly turns into an argument when he discovers exactly who hurt you.

warnings: mostly john b x reader, mentions of choking, DV, toxic/abusive relationship, not much rafe x reader directly, angst, reader and john b arguing, name calling, mentions of jealous!rafe, toxic!rafe — lmk if i missed any! ✮

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you sneak into the chateau at 10 minutes past midnight, only to be greeted by your brother who had turned the light on which made you jump. “where have you been?” john b asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“out.” you say, looking down to hide your face from him. you had been crying, but he’d already noticed your red-stained eyes. “what’s wrong?” he asks, frowning with concern.

“nothing, just don’t worry about it.” you answer with your head still down as you attempt to walk straight past him, but he stops you, lightly grabbing your forearm to turn you back around.

“what, john b?!” you snap at him, yanking your arm out of his grip. you don’t mean to be mad at him, but you just want to be left alone after a stressful day. “what’s the matter with you? why are you acting like this?” he raises his voice at you, wanting to know why you’ve turned into a bitch all of a sudden.

“i’m not!— oh my god. just leave me alone!” you yell at him, turning around to rush to your room, slamming the door shut after you. john b stands in the same spot as before, loudly sighing at you.

he decided to leave you alone for the night. even though you’re older than him, he still liked to look out for you ever since your dad went missing. he went to his room to go to sleep, hopefully you’ll talk to him in the morning.

༉‧₊˚. the next morning arrived faster than you’d hoped for. you cried all night feeling guilty for the way you spoke to your little brother, but he really has no idea of the situation you’re in.

you got out of bed and slowly exited your room, seeing john b up and awake already, sitting on the couch and watching tv. “hey…” you say, walking past to head to the kitchen. “hey…” he responds, just as awkwardly as you did.

you open the fridge and grab a snack, before turning to look at your brother. “uh— i’m sorry for last night. i didn’t mean to act like that… i just…” you explain, closing the fridge door and sighing. “you’re good. it’s fine. y’wanna talk about it?” he asks, switching the tv off to divert his full attention to you.

“uh, i don’t know…” you hesitate, knowing you’re hiding a kind of huge secret from him. you had been secretly seeing his biggest enemy, rafe cameron, behind his back. you knew how badly he tormented your brother and his friends, but for some reason, he was different around you.

you hadn’t personally dealt with rafe for yourself, until now. he saw you at the beach a few weeks ago, and thought to himself about how pretty you looked in your bikini, how tanned you were, how contagious your laugh was… and that was it. he introduced himself to you as a completely different person, despite having heard all the stories about him from your brother and the rest of the pogues, including rafe’s own sister.

rafe was kind, sweet and funny at first. ever since you saw him after that, your heart skipped a beat. he was so handsome, you liked him so much, but you couldn’t do this to your little brother. your brother who had been threatened by rafe, bullied, tormented, fought with…

you knew you had to keep it a secret, because once rafe cameron claims somebody, he really claims them. and this time around, it’s you. a pogue, a routledge, someone nobody would ever expect to be rafe’s.

— “cmon, i’m here for you. you know that, sis. what’s goin’ on?” he asks, patting the space on the couch next to him, motioning for you to come sit. you sigh, knowing you won’t be able to tell him without him getting upset that you’re dating rafe.

you know that no matter how or when you tell him, he’ll be angry. after thinking for a second, you walk over to him and sit down. he frowns at you as you sit down, noticing something on your neck. “what’s that?” he asks, putting his hand on your face to look, but you push him away. “nothing” you shake your head, trying to brush it off.

“is that?— that’s not a hickey,” he looks into your eyes with nothing but concern. “just— leave it.” you look at him with widened eyes to show that you were serious. “y/n, what the hell happened? who did that?” he asks, raising his voice in frustration now.

“nobody, john b, god!” you yell as you stand up again, “don’t walk away from me, and don’t tell me to leave you alone either like you did last night. you’re acting weird lately, what are you hiding?” john b stands up too, trying to get an answer out of you. your brother is genuinely concerned for you.

you sigh, turning around to face him head on. “john b, i— ugh.” you begin to say, but cut yourself off, not knowing where to even start. “what?” he asks in annoyance, needing to know who hurt his sister.

“who?” he asks one last time.

“… rafe,” you hesitate, looking around the room to avoid seeing your brother’s reaction. “rafe?” he asks, not sure if he heard you correctly. “…yes” you nod, looking at him now with teary eyes.

“rafe did that?” he asks, getting visibly mad now. he reaches his hand over, forcing your head up by your jaw but not enough to hurt you. he looks at your neck again, before you push him away, again.

“why the fuck did he do that?” he asks, huffing through his nose with anger, looking back and forth into both of your eyes, trying not to go insane. “it’s, uh— we were… having an argument last night.” you slowly explain the story. “an argument? about what?” he asks, not seeing a reason for you to even speak to rafe in the first place, let alone fight with him…

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ᴸᴬˢᵀ ᴺᴵᴳᴴᵀ .𖥔 ݁ ˖

“i saw the way you were laughing and giggling with topper, don’t lie to me!” rafe argued, turning around to point in your face. he had walked away from you and the rest of the kooks, causing you to follow him.

“i wasn’t flirting with him, oh my god!” you argue back. rafe had somehow come to the conclusion that you were flirting with his best friend, even though you were just having a conversation. yeah, maybe you did laugh once or twice, but since when aren’t you allowed to laugh?

“yeah, sure, whatever you say.” he scrunches his face up, sarcastically nodding at you. “you are so strange, rafe. now you’re insecure about me talking to your friends? what, do you want me to just sit in the corner by myself?” you raise your voice, however he doesn’t like your attitude.

“don’t raise your voice at me.” he demands with a threatening look on his face. “jesus, rafe, we aren’t even together! who cares if i was talking to other guys, it’s not like you want me to be your girlfriend” you shrug, trying to act smart but he reached over and grabbed you by your throat, shoving you into the wall.

“oh, so you were flirting with him?” he asks, choking you to the point where you can’t breathe. you try to say no, but nothing comes out, so you shake your head drastically.

“you sure? cause i’m almost certain you just admitted you were.” he tuts, acting so casual whilst he’s got you pinned against the wall. his grip on your neck was intense, it felt like all of his fingers were slowly digging into your neck.

…

“nothing. i just… i don’t even remember.” you lie to your brother, shaking your head. “y/n, don’t play games with me. why did rafe choke you? those are clearly finger—” john b says, leaning down to look at your neck again, “stop!” you cut him off. “look. i don’t wanna’ talk about it. we were just fighting over something petty. it doesn’t even matter.” you shake your head.

“it does matter when it’s turned you into a whole different person,” john b sighs, making you sigh too. “are you seeing him?” the dreaded question comes. “what? no…” you give him a look of disgust. “are you sure? because pope told me he saw you with rafe at the golf course like… what, 2 days ago?” your brother catches you out.

“… i wasn’t with him. i just— saw him there.” you try to make an excuse.

“oh really? since when do you normally decide to hang out at the golf course, where all the kooks are?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at the word kooks, reminding you of where you came from, and that you were a pogue. not a kook.

“does this whole kook vs pogue shit even matter? i mean, seriously, how long is it gonna’ last?” you raise your voice, making him shake his head at how much you truly have changed.

“y/n, you were the one who always hated the kooks. you hated rafe, topper, kelce… and now you’re on their side? now you suddenly wanna drop the whole kook vs pogues thing, too? you are definitely fucking rafe. no wonder you’ve turned into such a miserable bitch lately.” your brothers words hurt you deeply, but he was right.

he shakes his head at you, giving you a look of betrayal. he was upset, and it was all your fault. “where are you going?” you ask as he walks away, grabbing the keys to the twinkie.

“to find rafe” he says, before walking out and slamming the door shut after him. you sit and sob for a minute, realizing you might have just ruined your entire relationship with your brother. as his big sister, he trusted you, but for you to go behind his back and chase the one person he despised, it hurt his feelings. but you are still his sister, and nobody hurts his sister.

“J. HUNTING DOWN RAFE. U COMING WITH?„

john b sent a text to jj, who answered almost immediately.

“HELL YEA MAN„

jj doesn’t even know what rafe did this time, but he’s always down to beat him up.

this was angstyyyyyy 😩 as u can see, i love to write arguments and toxic stuff lol. hope ya enjoy pretties ᥫ᭡ ᥫ᭡ WILL DEF BE WRITING A PART 2 TO THIS ; )))

@cameronluvr

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #toxic!rafe #toxic!rafe cameron #dark!rafe #dark!rafe cameron #routledge!reader #john b x reader #john b x sister!reader #sister!reader #rafe cameron angst

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

Could you please do "Jealousy isn't a good look on you" and "You're right it looks much better on you" for our silly little teenage wizards?

from this prompt list

She hears his heavy, unbalanced footsteps before she hears his voice. “There you are.” He comes to a stumbling stop on the step below her, the toes of his trainers coming into her view.

“Here I am,” she says, then forces herself to look up at him.

“Why’d you leave?” James asks, sounding even more earnest than usual, thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol she knows he’s had tonight.

“Just wanted some fresh air,” she says, offering a shrug.

He crouches down and sits on the step next to her, his arm brushing against hers. She shifts away slightly, trying to be discreet. “Not very…fresh,” he says, glancing around the small stairwell she’s chosen as her refuge.

How did he even find her here at all?

“I don’t mean to be rude,” she says slowly, “but I’d really rather be alone right now.”

He frowns, turning to face her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just…” She shakes her head. “You’re really pissed, Potter.”

He shrugs, like this is a complete non-issue. “I can still tell you’re upset.”

“I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking right now, okay?”

His eyebrows knit together. “Did I…do something?”

It’s a frustrating question, made more frustrating by the fact that he seems genuinely concerned about her. She’s not angry at him, per se; she’s aware that she doesn’t have the courage to turn the tables and find clarity. It takes a bravery Lily hasn’t felt entitled to lately. And every time she considers being honest with him, something like tonight happens.

Sometimes, it feels like James Potter is the exact right person, at exactly the wrong time. 

“Why are you out here?” she asks, sidestepping his question.

His frown deepens. “Because you…Sirius said you—”

“Let me ask a different way,” Lily cuts in sharply. “Why are you out here with me, instead of back at your victory party, snogging Hestia Jones?”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he recoils almost comically, like one of the cartoons she used to watch with Petunia on Saturday mornings. “What?”

Lily turns away, folding her arms around her knees, hands disappearing into the sleeves of her jumper. “Never mind.”

“No, you—” He makes a sound of irritation, somewhere deep in his throat. “Don’t do that, Evans.”

“Forget I said anything.”

“I can’t just—Lily, look at me.”

She stubbornly keeps her gaze fixed on the wall of the stairwell. She knows she’s being childish, but she doesn’t care because he just—does things to her. Makes her hate herself a bit and the person she becomes in moments like this.

“Evans.”

“Go away, Potter,” she snaps. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence before he speaks, voice low, “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

“You’re right,” she hisses, her head whipping back around to meet his gaze, “it does suit you much more than me.”

His mouth drops open. “What? I—”

“Oh, please, Potter. I know you talked to Benjy. I know you’re the reason—”

“What? That he dumped you? You don’t think maybe it’s just because you’re sort of a bitch?”

The accusation hangs between them, heavy and spilling over like an inkwell knocked across a parchment. Too late to cap and make upright, too late to save the contents of the parchment.

“I’m sorry,” he says miserably, his head dropping into his hands. “I didn't mean—”

“Go back to your party, James."

“Lily, I—”

She stands up, abruptly. “Fine. I’ll go, then.”

James moves to stand, awkward and unsteady. “Hang on. Evans, just—”

She pauses in her retreat, but doesn’t turn to give him the satisfaction of seeing exactly how much he’s hurt her. “Don’t follow me,” she bites off, then disappears.

#keyword: teenagers #it's okay tho everyone they work through it i swear #jily #my fic

[callsign-rogueone]

reunification day - d.a.

Dain Aetos x reader part two of Dain and Love's story words: 2.6k 🏷: no book spoilers really, set pre-Fourth Wing, feminine reader but no pronouns used, this one is pretty tame and fluffy if you don't think too hard about the implications of literally every word, Col. Aetos makes an appearance and is a total jerk, as usual, delving into Dain's ~issues~ a bit, and hopefully showing a little more of Love's personality. I really like this one. a lot. I hope you do too. no other girlfriends mentioned this time, but can anyone guess who a certain someone was looking for before the speeches started?

It’s been over a year since you’ve spent this much time getting ready for anything. You’ve missed this feeling, sitting in front of your mirror humming a soft tune as you go through your routine, doing up your hair -- that part is made much easier with your signet, the strands curling and smoothing and pinning themselves to your liking while you darken your eyelashes and brush through your eyebrows, glossing your lips and making everything soft and shiny.

It’s a nice change of pace from your usual rushed mornings at the school, but it doesn’t feel the same, not how it used to, when you’d do all of this with a smile, genuinely excited for the occasion, for the opportunity to take a break from the training and the preparing-for-war to spend time with your family at their formal gatherings, with singing and dancing and food and all the trappings of Tyrrish culture -- because the occasion you’re preparing for right now is a holiday celebrating the anniversary of Navarre making those things illegal.

Either way, you look damn good, and you’re going to let everybody in attendance see it. 

“Your friends are outside,” Cosa reports — you’d told them not to wait for you, and they know better than that, anyway, especially when you have a reason to take your time getting ready like this.

With one last adjustment to the skirt of your dress, and one more lingering glance at yourself in the mirror, you drape the long silk wrap over your shoulders and slip out your door, heading down the hall out to the courtyard, where the party — if one could call it that — is just getting started, cadets trickling in slowly and settling into their formations.

You spot Dain in his usual place in the block. Of course he’d be one of the first to get here.

“You clean up nicely,” you greet, brushing a piece of fluff from the collar of his uniform. You let your fingertips skim over the broad expanse of his shoulder, lingering perhaps a second too long before you pull your hand back.

He represses a shiver, his cheeks reddening. “You too,” he manages. “You’re… wow.”

You smile at how flustered he is, at the blush spreading across his cheeks and his difficulty forming complete sentences. “Thank you. I may have a shitty relationship with this holiday, but I’ll take the excuse to be pretty for an evening.”

“You’re always pretty,” he says quietly, still looking at you.

It’s a compliment you’ve gotten from dozens of men before, one you usually brush off, but your heart skips hearing it from the one man who hasn’t been falling at your feet all year. 

“He thinks I’m pretty,” you whisper to Cosa, unable to keep the smile off your face.

She sounds amused. “Of course he does. Now, are you going to do something about it?”

That is the question; but she should know by now that you don’t chase after anything or anyone, especially not men.

“Thank you,” you reply warmly.

It’s obvious that he doesn’t know where to go from here, what to say next. 

You’re standing at eye level with him, or close to it, for the first time ever, and he can’t look away; mesmerized by the color of your irises and the flutter of your eyelashes as you blink, the barely-there shimmer coating your eyelids.

“Are you wearing heels?” he asks, finally putting it together. 

You nod, shifting the long skirt of your dress to show him the simple black stilettos underneath, thick silk ribbons wrapped around your ankles to keep them in place, tied with perfect bows.

He’s in over his head. Thankfully the next sentence that comes out of his mouth isn’t about how much he’d like to kneel down and tug at the ribbons until the bows came undone, to slide the shoes off and… 

“Did you really cross the parapet with those in your bag?” he asks, still looking at them.

“I did,” you answer, smiling. “They’re my favorites — they were a gift from my favorite brother. And they’re black, so they’re codex-approved.”

Fair enough.

It stands to reason that you’d have a favorite pair of shoes, and a collection of them back home — in the year that he’s known you, he’s learned that you place a high value on your physical appearance, and you aren’t afraid to modify your uniform within the bounds of regulation, finding subtle ways of making it your own.

You settle into your usual spot between him and Sawyer, who looks to be searching for someone in the crowd, his shoulders sinking when he realizes they aren’t there. You offer him a soft smile that he returns silently, your attention returning to the dais just as the clock strikes seven.

“I should have asked Bodhi what his bet was on the length of the speeches,” you tell Cosa, preparing yourself for a very boring next thirty minutes. She doesn’t respond. 

It's a bit unfair that her and her friends get the evening off while you’re forced to listen to these self-labeled war heroes prattle on about patriotism and the importance of this terrible holiday as if you and your compatriots aren’t even here.

“Twenty-eight minutes,” she relays after a few seconds.

You try not to laugh. “Tell him I say thirty-two, and the winner gets ten Krown.”

Another short pause. “He finds these terms acceptable.”

You subtly shift your weight back and forth between your feet throughout the speeches — which add up to thirty-one minutes, if you count the awkward transitions between them — having grown unused to the heeled shoes in the last year of wearing flat black boots every day.

You’re finally dismissed, the formations breaking as riders move around to find their friends for the rest of the evening. You turn toward third wing, looking for Imogen, who will be the easiest to spot with her unconventional hair color — you’re sure she absolutely despises this whole thing, but especially the required dress.

“Cadet Aetos,” someone calls, and he freezes at the voice for a split second before turning toward it.

The colonel insignia on the man’s collar and the shape of his jaw is enough for you to connect the dots — that’s Dain’s father, and he’s approaching with both General Sorrengail and King Tauri in tow.

You’ve just spotted Imogen and Bodhi, but you can’t leave now, not when three of the aforementioned war heroes are looking directly at you. You plaster a smile onto your face, adjusting your shawl. “Your Majesty, General, Colonel,” you greet in order of rank, extending a perfect curtsy to the king with a polite smile and a nod of the head to the others.

The monarch smiles back, but the officers don’t.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” the Colonel says, turning his gaze to you. Ice spreads through your veins, and for a moment you wonder if he possesses some physiological signet that he’s using on you, or if he’s just that cold and calculating because he knows exactly who you are. 

But neither of those options explain why the quadrant’s poster boy is looking at this uniformed officer — his own father — like a wolf that’s about to bite.

You give him a slight dip of your chin in deference. “Cadet Callwell, sir. Second squad, flame section, fourth wing — the same as your son. I can see the family resemblance,” you add with a disarming smile.

Dain winces beside you.

Your graceful response doesn’t seem to have thawed things between you and Aetos Senior any further, but luckily, someone changes the subject of conversation; King Tauri himself. “Tell me, cadets, how are you finding your studies?”

“Very well, your Majesty,” you answer with a polite smile. “We are fortunate to have such experienced and knowledgeable professors.” 

You nudge Dain’s foot with yours, silently prodding him to say something.

“Yes,” he agrees after a few seconds, “Fortunate indeed. The last year has been a challenge, but one that I know will prepare us to serve our country well.”

That is exactly what the King wants to hear. “And how fortunate am I, to have such valiant students with such bright futures ahead of them.”

“You flatter us, Your Majesty,” Dain responds, finally having found his voice.

General Sorregail still hasn’t said a word, watching the pair of you silently.

The Colonel gives you both a curt nod. “Thank you, Cadets. That will be all.”

Dain bows, and you drop another curtsy to the king, earning yourselves another fond smile before you turn away, but as you cross the courtyard, your blood is boiling on Dain’s behalf. Colonel Aetos hadn’t even spared him a smile. No loving touch, no real goodbye for his only son whom he may very well never see again, no use of his name, just Cadet?

Dain speaks first once you’re out of their earshot, sounding stunned. “I don’t think Tauri even realized you were marked. How did you…”

“It’s a party trick of mine,” you answer, stopping to sit on a small stone bench by one of the courtyard’s open archways. “One I learned very quickly after I got this.”

You let the silk drape drop from your shoulders, exposing the smoky relic trailing up your arm. Dain’s eyes catch on it immediately, like they do every time you’re not wearing long sleeves, studying the intricate swirls that don’t seem to follow any particular pattern, winding up and down your arm near-randomly.

“It’s the first thing anyone sees about me, or any of my friends. But I figured out that if I was perfect in every other regard, if I was charming enough and followed all the rules and did everything correctly, they wouldn’t notice it,” you say, gazing up at the stars. 

It’s a remarkably clear night, several of the summer constellations visible, but he remains focused entirely on you as you continue.

“The thing people don’t realize is that we’re all from “good families”, or we were, before they killed our parents. The Laurents were one of the most successful families in Tyrrendor before their assets were seized. So were the Durrans. Xaden is technically a Duke, now that he’s of age, but his duchy was burnt to a crisp.

My point is, we all know how to stand on ceremony and lay a proper table and dance a waltz and speak to authority figures, but people see the relics, or the names on our flight jackets, or how we speak or braid our hair or anything that shows our culture, and they forget all that. They just see a pack of rabid dogs.

Navarre used to respect us, to look at us like we were valuable. And then once we asked for not just a seat at their table, but for a table of our own, they decided we weren’t worth the dirt our houses were built on, and that everything we touched was tainted. They torched my mother’s rose garden and shattered every window in the house the day they arrested my father, just because they could.

So I know it sounds pathetic, or bratty, or whatever other adjectives you want to use, but being able to wear high heels and makeup and a pretty dress once a year is important to me, even if it’s for a holiday celebrating the death of so many people I loved, because it’s the only time that I get to feel like the girl I used to be, who didn’t have to fight for her life every day, who had parents that loved her more than anything in the world, and who was looked at like a person, not a fugitive or a liability or a wild animal.”

“It’s not pathetic,” he says softly. “I know I will never truly understand, but I get it. And for whatever it’s worth, you look perfect.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He starts another sentence that’s interrupted by the crackle of fireworks exploding into the air, startling both of you. He laughs, a sound you’ve hardly ever heard over the last year, but you like it.

You drape the silk back around your shoulders to fight the chill of the night air and pat the cold stone next to you, inviting him to sit. He accepts, perching on the other end of the bench and looking up at the night sky, keeping a respectful distance between you as the show continues, a few minutes of comfortable quiet.

With one last fizzling red firework, the display ends, and you hear applause from the other side of the courtyard, where most of the quadrant is gathered.

“Dain,” you say quietly, throwing him off balance, “I wanted to apologize earlier, but…”

“What for?” he asks, that cute little confused look on his face, head tilted and brows pinched. It would make you smile if you weren’t about to rip the bandage clean off, to end whatever this is before it can even start. 

You choose your words delicately. “Tauri may not have realized who I am, but your father certainly did, and judging by the way he left things with you, he was clearly upset by it. If that’s going to have consequences for you, that he found you talking to me…”

“Oh, he’s always been like that,” he dismisses. “He’s never been one for any kind of affection. I’ve learned not to take it personally.”

It all makes sense now, why Dain is… like that, why he never touches you, why you’re always just Cadet Callwell to him and never anything else, why he’s so strict and by the book; the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

But from the two minutes you’d spent with the Colonel, you can tell that Dain is twice the man he’ll ever be; not cold and uncaring, not prejudiced or cruel… he might even have room for someone like you in his heart.

You shouldn’t get your hopes up about that.

“Still… I’m sorry,” you say softly. “If he gets mad at you about it, say the word and I’ll keep my distance, or ask to be reassigned. I don’t want to make things tense between you.”

“It’s fine,” he reassures. “I’m sorry he made you uncomfortable. He tends to have that effect on people. It’s part of the reason I didn’t have many friends growing up— the other kids were scared of him.” 

He smiles, but you can tell there’s a tender wound underneath. “And I wanted to say it earlier, too, but thank you. For helping me not look like a total idiot in front of the king, and for showing me a new perspective.”

You smile — not the fake one he’d seen you give Tauri, but a real smile, one that makes your eyes sparkle like the stars. “Of course.” 

“Your friends are probably looking for you,” he says quietly, and you startle as you realize he’s right, that you’d completely forgotten about finding them, too focused on impressing the King, and then you hadn’t wanted to abandon Dain after that conversation… It’s not like you wanted to spend time with him or anything. You definitely wouldn’t choose him over your friends, right?

You rise from the bench, smoothing a hand over your skirt. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he replies, giving you one last look, soaking up the sight of you in that dress before you walk away and things go back to normal between you: regular uniforms tomorrow morning, and your usual rivalry and bickering at formation, with your friends constantly watching the pair of you and scrutinizing his every move.

If you hadn’t each inherited the wars of your fathers, maybe then this could work — but then you would never have met. 

He doesn’t know if that would be better or worse.

#dain and love #dain aetos #dain aetos x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #mine

[witheredallium]

Feeling Feminine

(I don’t know where this would be on the timeline or if it would exist on the timeline, but here you go. Also, I’m calling Patient 66, Christy. AKA the one where Alex deals with gender issues.)

The day was off to a rough start. Alex had woken up and immediately knew that something was off. Alex huffed in front of their bedroom mirror, even trying to put on their favorite black and orange pumpkin sweater, but it didn’t do anything to help. Alex was thankful it was Saturday and didn’t have to go to work feeling like shit. Christy was visiting for the weekend, so when Alex went downstairs to make some toast, she quite quickly noticed something was off.

“Good morning,” she said, looking up from the newspaper she was reading at the dining table.

“Morning. Glad to see you helped yourself to my fridge already,” Alex noted the dirty plate and pan of scrambled eggs.

“Of course,” she smiled, setting down the newspaper. “Food always tastes better when you steal it from a friend’s fridge. You seem off. What’s up with you?”

“Eh, I don’t know,” Alex shrugged, plopping two pieces of bread into the toaster. “Just feel kind of weird today.”

“Weird how? Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong. I just feel like I don’t look right today.”

“Mm,” the woman hummed. “I understand that. What doesn’t look right?”

The bread popped up in the toaster and Alex began to spread the butter. “Well you know me, I’m not really a feminine person often. I mean, I do wear dresses from time to time to make me feel more feminine. But I didn’t really want to wear a dress this morning and my sweater didn’t help and I feel wrong. Like, I don’t feel feminine enough.”

Christy stood up and offered Alex a hug. They set down the butter knife and gladly hugged her. Christy’s hugs were the best and Alex hardly ever said no to them unless they didn’t want to be touched. After the hug, Alex grabbed their plate of toast and brought it back to the table to sit with Christy.

“I was going to paint my nails later anyway, so I could paint yours as well. Or, I brought along my eyeshadow that I could put on for you. Would either of those help?” Christy offered.

Alex lit up at the thought. They hadn’t tried either of those before, but it was definitely worth a shot. 

After they finished eating they cleared off the table. Christy had brought some light green colored nail polish, which Alex was pretty excited about. Although their favorite color was orange, green was a close second. Christy gently took one of Alex’s hands into hers. She hummed in appreciation for their healthy long nails and gently shook the nail polish bottle in preparation. Taking the cap off the bottle, she carefully covered each of Alex’s nails in the green lacquer. The paint was sort of cold at first before Alex got used to it. It was sort of mesmerizing for them to watch Christy paint their nails. Other than the awful smell, causing them to open a window, having their nails painted made Alex feel quite happy.

“Do you feel a bit better now?” the woman asked as she noticed their small smile.

Alex nodded, “A little bit.”

“Do you still want the eyeshadow?”

“Yes, please,” Alex nodded again.

Christy only had some bright blue eyeshadow with her and she knew it would look absolutely awful with Alex’s pumpkin sweater, and told Alex this. They shook it off, just wanting the experience of the eyeshadow than the actual look. Christy opened the small palette, took the small brush out, and filled it. She asked Alex to close their eyes and began applying the color gently. Alex chuckled softly, the brush tickled a bit and it was kind of weird not being able to see what was going on. Just as quickly as it began, it was over. The two got up from the table and went to the bathroom so Alex could see how they looked.

“Oh, man. Those colors do look terrible together,” Alex laughed with Christy softly chuckling along. They were happy though, because if you ignored the clashing colors, the eyeshadow did look nice on them.

Thanks to Christy, Alex felt quite a bit better now. They figured they would have to buy some nail polish and eyeshadow the next time they went out to the store. Alex thanked Christy by making lunch for the two of them. The rest of the day was spent chatting and chilling. There may or may not have been some wine shared while the two complained about work. Once Clyde had woken up for the evening, it laughed at Alex’s makeup for a solid two minutes before complimenting the nail polish and going outside to hunt. Overall, though Alex had a rough start, it was a pretty good day.

#doai #dreams of an insomniac #doai sitcom au #alex williams doai #patient 66 doai #fanfic #doai clyde

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 4

Part 4:

There was a hand on her boob. When Liana opened her eyes in complete darkness, it took her a moment to remember where she was. Art was sick. She was in his room because she wanted to make sure he fell asleep; in reality, she fell asleep herself. Now their legs were tangled, his heavy breaths tickled her neck where his head was buried, one of his hands was holding her waist, and the other, well... it was on her chest.

She knew it wasn’t intentional. None of what happened in the last day was intentional. That’s not her relationship with Art. It’s a glitch in time. One of those moments where the universe collapses into itself and needs to fold a bit to straighten the course. She considered waking him with a sharp movement but remembered how miserable and wretched he looked yesterday. He would cry from embarrassment if she woke him now, with them in this position. So she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and decided to deal with the problem in the morning, if necessary. She tried to remind herself that the more Art slept, the faster he would recover, and she could return to her routine. With these thoughts and his breaths as a grounding factor, she managed to fall asleep. When she opened her eyes again, Art was gone. 'The fever broke. Thanks for everything, Li, went for a run' was the message waiting for her on her phone, making her smile unconsciously. The glitch was over.

The last two months were harder than Art was willing to admit. The studies and training were grueling. The routine was exhausting. And Tashi was still in a relationship with Patrick. Art didn’t know why it bothered him so much. I mean, of course he knew. Tashi was the most beautiful girl he had ever met. But it’s not like he lacked girls around him who were just waiting for him to say hello to jump into his bed. Maybe he was thinking about it more than usual because lately, Liana didn’t have a free moment. She was stressed from exams and choosing her major. She didn’t tell him that, he just knew her. Liana was the most calculated person he knew. She made long-term plans, for no real reason. When Patrick would come, she would plan the time she spent with them two weeks in advance. Art knew the uncertainty about her major weighed on her. He also didn’t know how to help her. His life was clear to him; Tennis. Tennis, family, and Patrick. Everything was clear, easy, and unchallenging. Patrick was supposed to visit in two days, and Art would never say it out loud because that’s his best friend, but he hated it. He knew Patrick was coming to be with Tashi, that he would waste Liana’s time, and in the end, he wouldn’t have time to sit with him at all. Maybe that’s what made him approach Tashi while she was collecting balls from the court after practice. “Art...” she said in a dubious voice, not fully understanding what he was doing there. Their schedules almost never overlapped. Their practices were at different times. He thought of inviting her to eat first, using some of his cafeteria points, but he remembered that Liana preferred their cafeteria over the one near her campus. “Do you need help?” he offered instead. “Sure, why not.” Tashi shrugged, her voice unconvincing. She knew he wasn’t just here. She knew Patrick was supposed to arrive and that Art was going to say something that would anger her. “I see you want to say something, so just say it.” She placed the basket of balls down, folding her arms. “Okay.” He sighed, moving towards the bench as she walked after him. “Patrick is coming the day after tomorrow.” He said. “I’m aware.” Her answers were sharp. She didn’t have time to waste on him and his circling around without saying what he wanted. “Do you want to plan a surprise party or something?” she asked jokingly, trying to move the conversation along. “Why are you still with him?” He looked her in the eyes, deciding to be direct. “Excuse me?” She raised an eyebrow, her face changing. She was no longer curious; she was angry. “He’s in love with Liana.” Art said automatically. He seemed as surprised by the words that came out of his mouth as she did. Patrick is in love with Liana? No way. At least he didn’t think so. So why did he say that? Now the thought that Patrick wanted Liana while he was with Tashi, the most beautiful girl he knew, wouldn’t leave his head. Tashi continued to look at him without saying anything, then chuckled, making him raise an eyebrow. “No, Art. You’re in love with Liana.” She rolled her eyes, her level of anger rising. “Absolutely n—” he started to defend himself but was immediately cut off. “And even if he does. Even if he wants to marry Liana. Even if he’s sure she will be the mother of his children. What do you want from me?!” She shouted the end of the sentence, causing Art to shrink for a moment. “Aren’t you supposed to be his best friend?” she asked, starting to walk away. “I’m not in love with Liana.” Was all he managed to say in response, “She’s my best friend,” he muttered, quickly following her, not fully understanding why he was explaining this. “Art,” Tashi suddenly stopped, close to him. “I suggest you open a dictionary to check what ‘best friend’ means and when you understand, don’t cry that you lost yours.” She ended the conversation (which led nowhere) and only pushed him further from his goal and confused him about what the goal even was. Why did he start this? He hadn’t seen Patrick for too long. Or Liana.

When Liana entered her room, around midnight, Patrick and Art were there. “Give me the key!” She extended her hand towards Art, who just smiled. They both knew he wouldn’t give it. “I could have been with someone. I could have entered here with someone, and at the peak of the atmosphere when we enter my room, you’re here!” She raised her voice, but not too loud because the hour didn’t allow it. “I’m not joking, Art, give me the key. You can’t come in here whenever you feel like it! Tell him!” She turned the end towards Patrick. Talking to him as if it were completely natural for him to be at Stanford in the middle of the night. “Who is this mysterious man she could have entered with at night, Art? I thought you were keeping an eye on her,” Patrick’s voice was amused, but the thought of Liana bringing a random guy to her room didn’t appeal to him. “That’s why I have a key, to scare off guys she meets in the library. Once, I saw her hanging out with someone who wore Crocs,” he said to him. They talked about her as if she wasn’t there, knowing full well it was the thing she hated most. “Out. Both of you, out!” She crossed her arms under her chest. “Hey, Amanda the lowbreaker, are you going to hug me and say hi, or just yell at me?” Patrick understood that her nerves were frayed at this stage of the day. “Amanda?” Art asked, not understanding what they were talking about. “She knows.” Patrick didn’t look at Art for a second. He only saw Liana. Her dark hair, identical to his, was tied in a messy ponytail, and there was a coffee stain on her shirt. She looked exhausted, yet she approached him and wrapped her arms around his waist, causing him to close his eyes for a moment. If Patrick could pinpoint the smell he loved most in the world, he would say it was citrus and roses. Liana’s scent. To him, it characterized summer from the moment he met her; smelling it in the middle of the year felt like a bonus. Like a pay raise for a job well done. Even though he knew nothing about his job was going well. Art cleared his throat, and they separated. “What are you doing here?” She really sounded exhausted. Like she hadn’t slept in a while. “I told you I was coming. I put my things in Tashi’s room and wanted to say hi before you go to sleep. We’ll hang out tomorrow, okay?” he asked at the end, his voice begging for a positive response. He couldn’t leave without making the most of the time he had with her. Time she would have to allow. Art watched the dynamic between them from the side. Thinking about what he said to Tashi; Patrick is in love with Liana. Patrick is in love with Liana. Patrick is in love with Liana. Like a mantra he couldn’t stop hearing for two days. Now also seeing it. Patrick is in love with Liana? Maybe it’s a crush? Art tried to remember how Patrick was with the girls at school, did he hug them for too long? Did they have private jokes? How did he look at them? “I don’t know if I can, Pat, I have an exam in two days...” her voice was apologetic. "Then I'll just sit next to you while you study. Come on, you can't say no to me." His smile was genuine, teeth showing. Not a smirk. "Alright..." Liana shrugged, her tone half-defeated, half-amused. "But you have to promise to behave and let me study," she said with absolute seriousness. "I'll behave however you want, Amanda. I'll be the quietest, I'll be so good for you. The best boy in the world," he winked. It was objectively funny banter. Tho Art wasn't amused. "Okay, fuck off, both of you. Now. I want to sleep!" she declared, giving Art a small push, shaking him out of his daze. Patrick is in love with Liana.

Hey there, me again. Is posting once a day a bit too much? I hope you're enjoying it. Tell me what you think about the characters so far. Also, tell me if you want to be tagged for the next part. Have a great weekend ❤️

taglist: @swetearss

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #challengers fic #tashi duncan

[love-kurdt]

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 31

word count: 447

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

October 11, 1989

Dear Will,

Let me catch you up on what’s been going on. I’m writing a book! I’m calling it The Wanderer for now, but I’m planning to change the title once an official manuscript is completed and I have more of an idea as to where the series is gonna go (I intend to make it a trilogy). I should probably mention that I made the protagonist a gay male, and I hope that it’ll end up turning into something for young queer fantasy readers to connect and relate to.

Since I write better at night and can’t really fall asleep before five in the morning anymore, I’m practically nocturnal. I can’t tell yet if it’s a good or bad thing, because on one hand, my writing is flourishing like you wouldn’t believe, but on the other, I’m not really going to many of my classes. Don’t get me wrong, I’m doing well with all my coursework, but the attendance policy is three absences per semester for a three day a week class. I’ve already exceeded most of those limits within the first month, but I’m hoping maybe my professors will understand, because I’m doing what’s otherwise being asked of me.

On another note, I’m officially a party person! Craziness. Remember the time when I actually judged you for drinking? That was funny. Because I’ve discovered that I have a particular affinity for tequila and whiskey. “Particular affinity”-- who the fuck am I? God, I sound awfully pretentious.

I’ve gone to a pretty high number of parties since I got here (enough that I lost count). I am a fucking party animal. For example, last month, I stood at the counter during a random frat house party and tried every single type of alcohol available until I couldn’t feel my face! I was wasted. So wasted that the next morning, I woke up and— noticing our naked forms in the same bed, curled up into each other— realized that Elvis and I slept together. Elvis as in my roommate. I lost my virginity to Elvis Presley. Well, Kuiken. Same thing. I want to laugh, but I’m actually kind of crying right now, because I’d always thought I’d give my virginity to you. And I don’t even remember how it happened or how it felt, and I just want to disappear.

Lucas said you guys talk regularly, and that you’re doing well… with whatever you’re doing. He still won’t tell me much at all. But I take the slightest bit of comfort in knowing you’re okay, even if I’m not in your life anymore. I still love you. I hope you know that.

Love,

Mike

-

previous letter | next letter

homepage

#byler #byler fanfic #byler fic #byler tumblr #mike wheeler #will byers #will x mike #mike x will #stranger things #stranger things fic

[typicalopposite]

I really thought I was done for tonight buuuuut

I’m in an angsty mood sooo let’s take our clipboard proposal to the next step and get into wedding planning shall we

Except…

Except Buck is stuck in a funk. He did a good job of not making the Madney Wedding Disaster about him. Even when he felt like it was entirely his fault. If he just hadn’t been so preoccupied with the party maybe he would have noticed something. If he just hadn’t gotten drunk maybe he would have noticed something… if he just hadn’t made it about him… maybe he would have noticed something…

And he had kept all those thoughts at bay for the entirety of the search for Chimney. He kept them at bay the entirety of the hospital wedding. He even kept them at bay when they began getting louder because he had really gone and walked in covered in soot and outed himself during the hospital reception.

But eventually time passed and they got quieter and quieter and he didn’t have to push them away anymore… they just stayed in there place, always there but not actively making their presence known…

… until now.

Now he’s engaged. Now he’s planning a wedding. Now he’s getting his happily ever after… And he should be happy. Hell he should be ecstatic! He is marrying the most amazing person in the whole entire world… his other half… his best friend (ok one of his best friends 😅🙄) and yet all he can think about is how he doesn’t deserve this.

It’s not that he thinks he doesn’t deserve to get married… between therapy and the constant persistence of his loved ones he has finally accepted he does deserves happiness… he does deserves to be loved.

What he doesn’t deserve, however… is the wedding of his dreams… not when he is part of the reason Maddie didn’t get hers.

********

This got long… I swear it is supposed to get happier! I think I’ll make a second part like in the morning or something

Link to the OG clipboard proposal post

Link to the fic that post inspired

Link to Tommy’s pov of the OG post

#911 #911 abc #911 drabble #911 fandom #911 show #bucktommy #firefly #(yall that one is becoming my favorite i am thinking of a fic based around it alone!) #buck and tommy #buck x tommy #tevan #kinley #118 firefam #clipboard proposal fic is about to be a whole series #yall I have many ideas!

[shrimshrim4fun]

Can I have headcanons for fem!chief?

Sorry for the late reply, I had some things I had to do 😓 don’t know why I can’t type after the picture I put I hope you like it. Please request I’m bored this summer 🧍‍♀️

SFW

- She’s more of a listen than talk person. When you get to know her more she gets more talkative. She notes almost everything you tell me, you can be yapping her ears off and she’ll suck in every detail and remember it.

- She’ll wrap her coat around you when you get cold. You don’t need to ask or anything she sees you shiver, the coat is on you. She’s very insistent about it too when you take it off.

- When you two are alone she loves lying on your chest. Big or small she doesn’t care. She is nuzzling into it like it’s life support for her.

- When you guys are home it’s quite often found her wearing your clothes. Usually a hoodie or a larger shirt, she just likes your smell in general. But gets super shy if you try on any of her clothes and comment it smells like her.

- If you drink coffee, she is hand brewing it everyday. She also likes it if you do it for her. Doesn’t have to be hand brew, just a packet of the coffee thingy with water and it warms her heart.

- Loves getting calls from you when she’s doing paperwork or documents. It really calms her down due to working late hours and can’t go home to see you yet.

- Likes wearing some sort of jewelry from your collection. Usually necklaces or bracelets. She likes a reminder that you’re with her when she’s at work.

- Everyday before work you’re getting a kiss. There’s no buts or whatever, you’re getting one every morning even if she’s running a little late. It’s usually on your forehead, head, or cheek.

- She’s the type to say I love you every morning. And she wants you to say it back. Like when shes going out the door she’ll say “love you” and if you don’t respond and say it back she’ll just stand there and look at you like an abandoned puppy.

NSFW

- I feel like she’s a huge switch leaning toward sub. I’m sorry sub chief supremacy (I think that’s how you spell it) But if she’s topping she’s a service top or a soft top. But sometimes if she’s real stressed, be prepared for hell of a night.

- If you pull on the strap thingy argon her chest she’ll let out a small whimper or whine. Usually do this in her office or when you guys are alone and you’ll hear it louder.

- Is a masochist. She likes to feel pain on her body varying from temperature play, spanking, and getting bounded.

- Loves it when you degrade her in bed while she loves to praise with some degrade on certain days. Also a big fan of you pulling her hair. You hand running through her hair as you whisper dirty things in her ears is just the cherry on top for her.

- Secretly likes it when you tell her to touch herself and make her beg for your touch. And she wants you to praise her or degrade her while she does. Her hands shaking as she tries her best finger herself for you.

- Loves using toys but likes using her fingers to please you….. she’s already ready to please you 😏 She enjoys mostly using toys on herself because she likes pleasing you with her own body.

#path to nowhere #gotta feed the shrimps #chief path to nowhere #chief ptn #ptn

[the-roo-too]

Hi!! Can I request fluffy alphabets for Yunjin? Thank you💗

candy -> huh yunjin ver

aka the fluff alphabet

admiration (what does she absolutely adore about you)- if you are at least the tiniest bit a musical person, she deffo loves to jam out with you. will force you to try and compose with her probably, even if you only know two chords on the guitar

body (what’s her favourite body part of yours)- yunjin is a hair girlie to me, she likes to play with it—give you cute hair styles if it’s long or just put pretty charms in it if it’s short!

cuddling (how she likes to cuddle)- big spoon ☝️🤓 might fight you for it (secretly loves being the little spoon tho)

dates (what’s her ideal date)- i’m thinking binging some movies late at night (like the greatest showman) and singing your hearts out 🏳️‍🌈

emotions (how does she express her emotions around you)- girlie is an open book around you. musically gifted people are usually very connected with their emotions (and yunjin did go to music school so..)

family (does she want one)- i kinda have mixed feeling about this one. maybe later in life when you’ve both settled down? she doesn’t really give me the kids vibe tho

gifts (what about gift giving)- would absolutely compose an either short ass piece or perform a long ass opera for you and would force you to listen to it 🎀🎀

holding hands (does she like to hold hands)- yes! absolutely! also smooches your hand. i feel like yunjin carries around three different hand creams. also the type to hand you a fruit scented cream in the middle of june and say “it’s fruity, like you.”

injuries (what would she do if you got hurt)- with all due respect, she wouldn’t know what to do 😭 call chaewon? tell manager? order take out?

jokes (does she like to joke around)- yes. as i said, fruity cream, fruity you.

kisses (how does she like to kiss you)- either smooches your face or full on make out session, i don’t make the rules ✊

love (what’s her love language)- passive aggressive affection. you’re grumpy in the morning? too bad, you’re still listening to taylor swift’s whole discography with her

memory (what’s her favourite memory together)- meeting you for the first time! say you two met in a coffee shop while yunjin had a break between rehearsals. the moment your eyes made contact she was doomed lol

nighttime (how does sleeping with her look like)- yunjin 100% steals the blankets. wraps herself in a burrito and you will NOT get them unless she cuddles you close and lets you inside the cocoon

oddity (what’s one quirky thing about her)- to be fair opera singing is kinda weird. like imagine you’re coming home late and night and you whisper shout a soft “yunjin! are you awake?” and she responds with a “HEREEE MY LOVEEEEE” sung loudly 🗣️

pet names (what does she like to call you)- baby girl, with a lip bite. but like “baby gowrlllllll 🫦🫦🫦🫦”

quality time (how does she like to spend time with you)- every time spent with you is quality time for her (and she will rizz you up while saying that)

rush (does she rush into things)- you’re living together by the second week of you dating

secrets (how open is she with you)- open book ‼️‼️ wanna know her father’s dead cat’s name? or what colour was chaewon face when she puked after drinking spilled milk thinking it was yoghurt?

time (how long did it take her to confess)- going with the idea that she saw you at a coffee shop, she would visit that exact place for a straight up week until she saw you again and then shoot her shot 💀

upset (what’s her reaction when you’re upset)- you’re probably upset after a fight, so then she’s upset too. if that’s not the case, if you yell at her because you’re upset, then yunjin will because upset too lol. she’s not the type to apologise first so buckle up!

visibility (is she afraid of the public opinion)- nah. you remember that one post she made for pride some time ago? public opinion’s got nothing on her

warrior (how often do you fight)- i actually thing you might fight quite a lot… 💀 because of the rushing thing. when you two hit like a two year mark or sum, it gets better. but the rushed relationship gets kinda bumpy at first.

x-ray (is she able to read you)- even if you’re not as much of an open book as yunjin is, i think she makes it her goal to know what you’re thinking at all times. like a little personal challenge

yes (how would she propose to you)- most sappy way possible, would take you to a beach and arrange for her members to blindfold you and shit. lead you down to the shore and when you feel the cold water wetting your shoes, that’s when she drops on one knee (yes, in the water) while eunchae takes off the blindfold lol

zen (what makes her feel calm)- cuddles! singing! movies! just casual romantic shit. i said she would say sorry first but she might force you to cuddle her in the middle of the night even if you two just had a massive fight

part of [the fluff series]

#yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin #yunjin le sserafim #lesserafim x reader #le sserafim #lesserafim #lesserafim imagines #yunjin x reader #eunchae #hong eunchae #chaewon #kim chaewon #sakura #sakura miyawaki #nakamura kazuha #kazuha #fluff alphabet #female idol x reader #kpop gg x reader #kpop idol x reader #idol x reader #fxf #gxg #wlw #men dni #men dont interact