#i have another song i want to do that with for him too

[nereidprinc3ss]

drunk in love

in which fem!reader gets extra affectionate with spencer when she's drunk and he's just happy to be there

fluff! warnings/tags: drunk!reader, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff, spencer loves you so bad, short n sweet, that's it a/n: this is for the person who requested spencer taking care of drunk!reader and they're just being really cute and kissy and i lost your request i'm sorry but i hope you see this!! if you guys like this pls let me know, i have spencer helping drunk!r with a bath locked and loaded and its also so cute oh my god i love him goodnight

“Spence,” you say, voice pretty and airy as a song, pressing butterfly-light kisses with soft lips all over the side of his face. 

“What?” he asks fondly, fighting to keep his grip on you secure as you keep trying to fall down and bring him with you. This bar isn’t necessarily a dive, but he’s sure the floor is still sticky and he’s not interested in checking. 

“I really love you so much. I love you so much more than anyone else has ever loved anyone before.” It’s the fourth or fifth time you’ve told him you love him so much in ten minutes, but it doesn’t feel any less wonderful to hear. “Say it back!” you pout, settling against his chest. 

“You didn’t give me time to say it back,” he explains patiently, looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. “I love you so much, too, baby.”

Suddenly you’re too flustered and shy to make eye contact. 

“Call me that again.”

Spencer’s brow furrows. His smile flickers wider. 

“What? Baby?” You nod into his chest. He smooths your hair. “I call you baby all the time.”

“Because you love me?”

“Because I love you,” he agrees solemnly. 

You squeak, covering your face with your hands. Not for the first time tonight, he wonder what exactly was in those drinks Penelope kept ordering for you.

“Kiss?”

He gently grabs your wrists. 

“You have to show me that pretty face if you want a kiss.”

Your hands slide down your cheeks and you tilt your head up. Now that your face is on display, pretty and shiny in the low lighting, Spencer ducks down and kisses you sweetly, one hand on the back of your head, the other pulling your wrists down and out of the way. He makes sure to not let it go on for too long. There are still plenty of people around, but more saliently, you are quite drunk. 

“Good?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he pulls away.

“Can we kiss forever?”

“We can try,” he muses. 

“I love you,” you say again, plainly. “I wish there was a word stronger than love. I feel like I’ve said love so much it’s lost all its meaning.”

“Keep saying it,” he encourages. “I like hearing it.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. Spencer leans down for you to cup your hand to his ear clandestinely. Sweet vanilla perfume still clings to your warm skin, lingering on your neck, mixing with the smell of fruity cocktails on your breath and making him dizzy. “I think JJ has a crush on you.”

He chuckles, straightening. Grieving the loss of your scent for just a second in the back of his mind—until you’re pressing against him anxiously, and it returns. 

“JJ is married, babe. I don’t think so.”

You pout. 

“No, but I really think she does! It makes me sad!”

Spencer doesn’t believe it for a second, but he knows hard logic and persuasion aren’t really going to do much for you right now. So he loops an arm around your waist and reigns you in. 

“You don’t need to be sad, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter who has a crush on me because I have a crush on you.”

“Just me?” you ask anxiously. 

“Just you. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. I have a huge crush on you.”

He realizes his voice has taken on that saccharine quality that Derek would give him shit for, and it’s probably visible in his eyes as he leans close to you, but he doesn’t care at all. 

You raise your chin, wordlessly asking for another kiss. He delivers. The fabric of his shirt tugs where you grab onto it, attempting to bring him closer even when he draws away from the kiss. Of course he allows it, narrowly avoiding stepping on your toes as you pull him to you like a dog on a leash. 

“Can we go home? I wanna cuddle.”

Oh, yeah. If Derek were present he’d have the most ridiculous, shit-eating grin on his face right now. Luckily he’s not here right now, and even if he were, Spencer would still brush your hair aside and say, absolutely we can go home and cuddle. 

“Of course we can. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”

“Mm… can we Irish goodbye?”

He chuckles. 

“I think you should say thank you to Penelope for buying you all of those ridiculous drinks that are making you so nice.”

You make a face. 

“I’m always nice.”

“You’re not always this nice,” he reminds you with a small smile, resting his hands on your waist. You frown. 

“In my head I am.”

He kisses your head. It’s impossible not to. 

“I know. Come on, let’s say bye. I want to go home too.”

“You think I’m not usually nice?”

“Of course I don’t think that. I think you’re so nice.”

“Oh my god, can we get ice cream?” You gasp, already distracted and pulling him along by the hand as you weave through the sparse crowd. 

He smiles to himself, happy to follow your lead as long as you don’t let go. 

“We can definitely get ice cream. We can do whatever you want.”

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

[theminecraftbee]

Wels hums as he walks through the shopping district. He doesn't need much, but with the recent release of Overlord, he wants to hear if any of the establishments are playing it. He doesn't expect it somewhere like the Permit Office--Grian's spent too much time and money getting a song that was as perfectly annoying to be put on hold to as possible--and if it is playing in the log shop, he will laugh. But music tends to spread around Hermitcraft fast, and sure, this isn't about anything specific, but who's gonna miss a good opportunity to dunk on Doc?

He hears the backing beats from a nearby shop and hums along with them, walking down the path--

--then turns a corner and leaps back.

"You," Wels hisses.

Hello. Awfully rude of you not to include me, you know, says the specter.

"No, there's absolutely no reason for you to be here. None at all!" Wels says, throwing his hands up. "The last time I saw you was--gosh, I don't even know. Season Seven?"

Yes, yes, and the only time you saw me, you aren't lying to yourself at all, the specter says agreeably. Come on. We both know I was haunting you for what little of Season Eight you bothered to be around for.

"If you were on Eight then you super shouldn't be here," Welsknight says. He shakes his head and looks up at the shop playing his song. Joel's? Huh. Wouldn't have thought he'd have a reason to make fun of Doc. Welsknight removes his shaking hand from his sword hilt again and starts walking.

On account of you leaving everyone there to die, yes, we're both aware, the specter says.

"Oh, screw you, you wouldn't have done any different, get new material," Wels says. "Also, you aren't real? You're like, all of my insecurities or whatever. You don't even have a real body right now, no one's made you one."

The specter shrugs. I mean, if I'm the worst parts of yourself, really, you're the one who needs better material. Abandoning all your friends to die and then abandoning them altogether--it's a wonder they let you stick around!

Wels rolls his eyes and forces his hand to stay out of his inventory. Wouldn't do to give away that still even gets him. He peaks at another shop. They're playing the song too, but it's ever-so-slightly out of sync, which is kind of terrible. As he does, Cleo waves at him. Their eyes sort of stutter right past Helsknight, which definitively tells him exactly how much body the specter even has to possess right now.

"I'm actually having a great time with my friends this season, so like, the whole 'abandonment' song and dance isn't going to work this time. Started the season with them and everything; hard to even go for 'they'll forget me at the first opportunity' or whatever."

The thing is, the more Wels says it, the more its true. None of the insecurities and pain points that the specter is echoing back at him are what he was actually thinking about. He's been like... fine? Sure, he's definitely still got repressed negative traits, but nothing like "Xisuma's evil twin brother playing around with his head" or "the moon crashing and killing everyone" or "too depressed and burnt out to get out of bed" or "sort of considering abandoning everyone because that's like, his thing" these days. None of the things that should bring the specter that had haunted him since Beef's cloning machine back to him without a body. But Wels is careful about clones outside of something like Vault Hunters, where they're explicitly under his control. He, like, doesn't even armor stand much. So that can't be this either; Helsknight clearly doesn't have a body to be messing with Wels yet!

...Helsknight doesn't even have a body or an actual insecurity to be poking at Wels with yet.

He stops. He puts his hands in his pockets, and turns around to face Helsknight. He is no longer shaking at all.

"Dude, why are you even here?" Wels asks.

I told you, it was rude to leave me out, Helsknight says.

"What," Wels says.

The final bars of Overlord play over the speakers. Welsknight hums and nods before it suddenly clicks.

"What," Wels says again.

Honestly, you're not normally this much of a moron. It was rude to leave me out. Rapping is also my thing.

"Dude," Wels says.

I could totally destroy Docm77 any day. I would obliterate the fool you call a "friend" in ways you cannot comprehend. You invoke a sacrificial goat? I know ways he'd never recover, gods he'd never be able to retrieve himself from. It would be laughable. And you left me out.

Wels stares at the demon from his nightmares.

"You're mad at me because you didn't get to be in my diss track," Wels says.

You let me be in the last one, Helsknight says.

"Dude," Wels says. "Dude, that's pathetic."

Helsknight sniffs. I'm your worst qualities. What does that say about you.

"I didn't even write this for this season," Wels says.

That makes it worse, Helsknight says.

"I don't even know where to start? For one--no, I still don't even know where to start," Wels says. "This is like, the lamest reason you could possibly have to come haunt me. Go away, I'm basking in my like, top 3 charting hit on the Hermitcraft server."

Top three? Pathetic. There are only three songs. You'd be the top song if you'd simply included my power, Helsknight says.

"I can't beat the streaming minutes Grian puts on that hold--look, uh, dude. You're, uh, a very scary representation of my fears and worst qualities and all. Appreciate that. Next time I need to do a diss track, I don't know, maybe I'll invite you? First you've got to stop appearing solely to make my life worse, though. Bring me a cookie or something. I don't know, whatever demons do."

I'm not a demon, I'm a Shadow. We're different, Helsknight says. ...I'll think about it.

When Wels turns the next corner, Helsknight has vanished again. Wels stops in the middle of the street, looks around, confirms the specter has vanished, and then bursts out laughing.

"What the Hels," he says, somehow feeling lighter and more bemused than before. That's a new feeling with his doppleganger. Then, he goes to visit Big Wood. While Doc definitely isn't playing the song of his own accord, Wels figures that Beef just might, and given the day he's having, that would feel like a kind of irony Wels isn't sure how to describe. Besides, he wants to see if Doc will notice if Wels sets the song on loop or something. What can he say--the man's reactions to being taunted are spectacular, and Wels loves seeing them. Call it a bad quality of his or something.

#hermitcraft #welsknight #helsknight #a bee fic #hermitfic #unreality #LOOK MAN I HAD TO. #...APPARENTLY. #i put slightly too much thought into what is effectively A Dumb Bit. i mean not the rap. this fic. this fic is the dumb bit. #i mean the rap is a dumb bit too but not the one i put too much thought into. the fic is #YOU KNOW WHAT NEVERMIND THIS JUST CONFUSED THIS FURTHER. anyway that helsknight huh.

[dazednmatthews]

(crazy how) this love thing seems unfair~ m. sturniolo

short mini fic cause i lurve this song so bad. angsty asf w a semi-happy ending. enjoy my loves <3333

“mattttttt,” her voice is coated in sleep. “come back to bed.” matt is standing at his closet door, rubbing his own tired eyes. it’s about nine in the morning, much too early to be doing anything other than laying in bed with her.

“you know that i can’t, sweetheart. i have to go work with the guys.” he finally picks a top, a soft, white sweatshirt that’s semi-cropped.

“boooooooo.” she sits up, pushing the curls that escaped her bun away from her face. the look on her face almost makes matt want to say fuck it and stay right here.

after he puts on his shoes and cologne, he walks to the side of the bed and sits. she sinks into him, body melting into his touch. they sit there for a moment, no sound in the room except their breathing. it’s peaceful.

she leans up in his arm and places a kiss at the shell of matt’s ear, making the boy groan softly. “don’t do that. it makes me want to stay right here.”

another kiss, this time under his jaw. “that’s the idea.”

one of matt’s hands are kneading the flesh of her thigh, pausing momentarily to rub circles with his thumb. the other hand is planted gently on her waist. he grips a little tighter when she kisses the corner of his mouth.

“stop touching me like that if you’re leaving.” she whines, pulling away slightly. “so not fair.”

he pulls her back. “give me a real kiss.”

she shakes her head. “ew, no. morning breath, hello.”

matt gives her a flat look. “i put my literal tongue inside of you twenty four seven and you think i give a fuck about morning breath?”

she shoves his shoulder with an incredulous laugh. “it is nine in the morning, matthew!” her eyes are sparkling now. “tone it down.”

matt shrugs. “i’m just saying.”

there’s a brief moment where they lock eyes, and suddenly it’s like all the air in the room has been sucked out. matt moves his hand up, feeling the thrum of her heart beating rhythmically. it’s one of his favorite sounds.

she moves into his lap, his hands coming to the swell of her ass to steady her. her arms loop around his neck, face close.

she pulls him in, gently connecting their lips. the way the interlock is something out of matt’s wildest dreams, serenity coating him from head to toe. he’s tugging and grasping with all his might, always needing her closer.

he can feel her lashes on his cheek, can feel her nails on the nape of his neck, can feel her love through every swipe of her tongue. he never wants to be anywhere but here.

there’s a knock at the door. “matt, we gotta go!” it’s chris. “y’all are too quiet in there so i’m staying my ass out here.”

she breaks the kiss with a giggle. “duty calls.”

he groans, resting his head on her shoulder. “so not fair.”

though it’s a fight, from matt mostly, she untangles herself and stands. she extends a hand to pull matt up, giving him a chaste kiss. “it’s okay, matty, go. i’ll be right here when you get back. always.”

***

turns out that always didn’t mean forever.

there’s a low static sound coming from the t.v, but matt pays it no mind. he’s been sat there for what feels like hours, staring into the distance. he has no idea where his brothers are, something about a friends house or something.

it’s been a couple months since the two split. since matt’s entire world shifted off its axis. he hasn’t seen you since you came to drop off the box of stuff that was filling your apartment. still hurts like the first day though.

matt fights with the same urge he gets every night at about this time. during the day is easier. he’s either asleep or so busy with work that he doesn’t really think about the you-shaped hole in his life. doesn’t really think about the absence of your toothbrush in his bathroom, or the lack of your perfume on his sheets. yeah, the day is infinitely easier.

it’s at night, when he cracks. when he turns in bed and there’s no one there. when he can’t hear the sink running because you’re doing your ridiculous sixteen-step skincare routine. when he walks to his bed just fine because there’s no ill placed bag in the middle of the floor to trip over. it feels like walking into a room and immediately forgetting what you were meant to be doing. he knows something is missing, but he doesn’t know how to get it back.

he wants to call you. wants to talk. to sort through all the communication that wasn’t handled well. it wasn’t a messy breakup, or even a hostile one. and somehow, matt thinks that’s worse. he’d prefer yelling and arguing and just knowing you weren’t right for each other anymore.

but it wasn’t that. instead it was distance and tears and feeling like right now there just wasn’t enough space in each others lives for one another.

he didn’t want this. at all. he wondered if you felt the same. he’d stared at the phone countless night willing himself to dial the number. to draft a text. he’d spent just as many willing you to do the same. it never came though.

matt knows tonight is different. the hum of the ac is lulling the anxious feelings in his stomach. he knows by the way his shaky hands grab his phone that this time is going to be the one.

he doesn’t know what to say, nor how to get it out. he wants to pour his heart out, but he also can’t do that without looking at you. without seeing you and feeling the rush of unwavering love he always got whenever his eyes met yours. it wouldn’t be fair.

so he starts off light and hopes for the best. you always did used to say that he had a way of knowing you better than anyone else.

he hopes to god that’s still true.

a/n: i’m tewwwwww good to y’all fr. jus sumn lite bc i love that damn song soooo bad and it came on this morning and a giant ass cartoon lightbulb went off in my head. anyway number neighbor part five & six later today cause ik that’s what u guys really want 😭 i hope u guys like this okie bye i love you all sooooo bad!!!

TAGLIST:

@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @tastesousweet @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez @inkyray @simply-a-simper @lanas-doll @wh0resstuff @giannasturn @iluvmattsbeard @mattsmad @bambi-slxt

(also if i add tags based on requests and on comments so if u ever want to be taken off let me know!!!! jus send me an ask or a message and it’s no problem <3333)

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo texts #chris sturniolo headcanon #matt sturniolo headcanon #Spotify

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Read your post about something other than angst for Simon so I have a thought that needs to get out. Morning routine with Simon. Obviously, the man is military and has a strict routine but that all goes to shit with you. Sleeping in, lazy lunch, all that cute couples shit but with Simon.

hello! tyvm for sending this idea! cute and silly couple’s domestic fluff is sweeettt!! I hope you will enjoy this :D 💖

A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple - Simon Riley*Reader

[6:00]

Simon doesn’t need an alarm, he automatically wakes up at 6 am.

Jogging is an important part of his morning routine when he’s on leave, a nice way to maintain his stamina, and to keep him from getting too loose.

“Where you... going...”

Oh, he forgets he has an unavoidable barrier, between him and his morning jog.

Simon looks down at you, clenching at the hem of his shirt. Your eyes aren’t even open, you just catch him in instinct and now refusing to let go.

“Go for a jog, you know it, love.” The calmness of morning makes him explain in a soft tone unconsciously.

“Stay... please...”

“You can hug your blåhaj first, I will be back soon, yeah?”

“You feel better than blåhaj...”

“...”

It’s too cruel for him to just leave you here, not when you choose him over that bloody shark you always squeeze against your body.

Simon secures the curtain so the room won’t be too bright after the sun fully rises, and lies back on the bed.

Your limbs immediately twine around him when you sense his figure is nearby, and scoots closer to him.

Jogging is important to keep him from getting loose... it’s a must for him to be strict with his morning routine...

The voices in his mind are gradually replaced by the little snores of yours as he drifts back to sleep.

[12:00]

“Can we eat fries for lunch?”

you yell at Simon who’s preparing lunch in the kitchen.

“No”

“WHYYYY!”

“UNHEALTHY!” He shouts back so his voice won’t get covered by the noise of the range hood.

okay then... you feel a bit disappointed, but you can’t come up with a convincing reason, so you just back to sweeping the floor.

just as you’re cleaning the last few spots, a scrumptious smell catches your attention, it’s not those chicken breast or salad or scrambled eggs that Simon deems healthier.

“Do you make fries?!” You knock open the kitchen door with excitement.

What you see is Simon sprinkling some salt and pepper on a bowl of fries, and he turns to you when you rush in like an energetic child.

“A few fries are tolerable” He shows you the bowl, and you can’t wait to reach out and take a bite on the crunchy and golden fries.

“Thank you, baby.” You press an open mouth kiss on your lover’s cheek.

“Don’t kiss me with your greasy mouth...”He growls, but you’re already leaving the kitchen, lilting an off-key song with the bowl of fries in your arms.

Simon just shakes his head and starts cleaning the countertop. If some fries can make you this happy, then fuck those healthy diets.

[18:00]

You two sitting face to face on the couch, the air is full of tension when you speak first.

“Mushroom”

“Mango”

“Oreo”

“Orange”

“Egg”

“g...”

“It’s over 2 seconds! Go take out the garbage, silly!”

“Fucking hell...”

Snickering at Simon’s loss, as he grumbles and on his way to grab the garbage, you add another star under your name to ‘the winner of the week’ sticky note that’s pasting on the fridge.

[23:00]

“Time to sleep.”

“but I want to watch this movie.”

“You can watch it tomorrow.”

“pleassee I want to watch it nowww Simonnn”

“...Fine.”

(00:00)

Simon looking at you sleeping like a log, whole body leaning on him and tangling him like an octopus, totally ignoring the wretched screaming from the movie, sighs and turns off the TV.

He leaves a night lamp for you, in case you need to get up for water during the night, and adjusts you two into a more comfortable posture.

He hears you mumbling something like donuts or maybe your favorite character, and chuckles quietly at how silly you are.

He already knew you would fall asleep during the movie, so that’s why he gave in, and time proves that his prediction’s correct since he’s looking at your serene face now.

“Goodnight.” Satisfied with you resting safe and sound in his arms, Simon plants a kiss on the top of your head and closes his eyes, hoping for a sweet dream that has you in it.

a/n: blåhaj sorry I love u I don't mean to harm u

#cod imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley fluff

[urhoneycombwitch]

65 w/ sbeve (if ur up for it 🫶🏻)

65- “you’re being particularly insufferable today”

foreword: for Syl @thecreelhouse <3 from Lulu xx

cw: public sex (bar bathroom, no one sees/overhears), dommy Steve, hittin' it from the back in this one folks, R w breasts + V

___

Your hair is threaded between the fingers of Steve’s right hand, palm warm and wide at the back of your head, pressure light but enough to have your cheek pressing into the bathroom door. 

Your entire front is flush to the wood, as well- tits spilling obscenely from the front of your tight dress as Steve ruts into you, cock sliding easily with a coating of your arousal. He slides all the way into your pulsing cunt, hips stilling against yours, waiting for your breath to return in choking gasps before nipping behind your ear.

“Gotta be quieter than the music, right, honey?” His voice is caramel-sweet, in stark contrast to the sharp tug at the roots of your hair. “Don’t want the whole bar hearin’ you get these pretty brains fucked out.”

Another deep drag of his cock in, out, and this time when he sinks back into you he angles his hips up, hitting that gummy spot against your front wall. A whine slips out before you can catch it, thighs and knees trembling; Steve shifts to take more of your weight, pinning you in place and chiding again- “Hush. You can take it.”

You feel a little delirious, orgasm building at the edges of your pleasure, Steve’s fingers (the ones that aren’t pulling your hair) rubbing slick over your throbbing clit. In stilted whisper, you get out- “you’re b-being particularly- ah- insufferable, today, Steve.”

He chuckles without any humor (makes your damn toes curl), hitting that spot again just to see your brows pinch in pleasure. “Careful, baby, you know how riled up I get when you use big words.”

Caramel turned bittersweet, Steve’s using teeth set to bruise at the base of your neck, that sensitive spot where shoulder muscle curves in; a cry gets smothered behind your teeth as you squirm against the full, solid weight of him along your back. 

“That’s good,” he coos, purring and kissing over the mark he’s made, lips soft and repentant on your skin. “I’ll let you come before the song’s over if you keep this up.”

“You’re on, Harrington.”

You regret expending the effort it takes to get those words out because as soon as you do, Steve’s setting a merciless rhythm, pistoning into you with impressive speed and strength. The breath gets punched from your lungs (probably a blessing in disguise), jaw going slack in silent rapture, eyes rolling up behind fluttering lids. 

Steve murmurs your praises as he feels you clench tighter around his cock, picks up the pace to start fucking you through it. To your credit (and to the tune of Steve’s glowing compliments growing hoarser by the moment), you’re quiet when you come, biting into the meat of your own hand to stifle any noises that do manage to bleed through.

The same can’t be said for the moan Steve lets out as his cock pulses inside of you, way too loud for the small space- Jolene is playing over the bar speakers, but it isn’t totally enough to cover the sound of him coming. 

You laugh, unintentionally clenching up further, Steve nudging at your cheek with his nose, panting and whining now- “Honey- please. Please stop laughing. Fuck me…”

“Sorry-” you do your best to relax, giggles still overtaking in brief spasms- “...it’s just. You were way louder than I was. After all that ‘telling me to be quiet’ stuff…”

“All right.” Steve’s huffy (not annoyed enough yet to pull out, apparently), thumb skimming fondly over the curve of your arm. “Now who’s being insufferable.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut

[prongsiepotter]

down bad | j. potter

summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you

pairing: james potter x reader

warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it

a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x

──────── 𑁍︎ ‧₊°

"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.

"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.

"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."

You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.

Even if that guy is James Potter.

James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.

Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.

"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.

He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.

He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.

She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.

You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.

You almost let out a sob.

A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?

History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.

You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.

Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.

Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.

Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.

Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.

You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.

That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.

Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.

James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.

It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.

He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.

James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.

You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.

You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.

"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.

"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.

"I will always need you, Y/N."

Somehow he makes it sound genuine.

Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.

Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.

Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?

James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.

You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.

It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.

And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #marauders fanfiction #marauders #taylor swift #ttpd #the tortured poets department

[glorious-spoon]

your way or nothing at all [9-1-1 | Eddie Diaz | 1/1]

1500 words character study | mild angst | weddings | background buck/tommy, eddie/marisol | pre-relationship buddie | not quite a feelings realization for eddie but he's getting there

-

In the quieting dark, Eddie lingers by the tables, the empty chairs pushed together in a cluster for a conversation long since abandoned. It's late enough that people are starting to filter out into the night, and pretty much everybody left is crowded at the open bar or swaying on the dance floor. At the high table, Maddie has Buck's suit jacket draped over her shoulders and her cheek tipped against Chim's shoulder, and he's looking down at her with a dopily besotted expression that Eddie can clock even from here.

It makes him feel like—something, some kind of nostalgia for the wedding he never got to have with Shannon. That whole day felt like being hustled through a play that he never learned his lines to. Shannon was three months pregnant and deep in the throes of vicious morning sickness that was not improved by the catering or the stress of the day, so he spent their wedding night holding back her hair in the honeymoon suite his parents paid for and trying desperately to feel like he had a single fucking clue what he was doing. Trying to feel like a man and a husband and a father-to-be and mostly feeling like a complete fraud.

They deserved better. Both of them. Now, in this moment, after this day, it soothes more than it stings to watch Maddie and Chim hold onto each other so easily.

The song changes, and he watches a swirl of motion on the bar side of the dance floor, the particular energy that's easily identifiable as Buck even before he emerges from the crowd. Normally, maybe Eddie would gravitate in, but Buck's got a hand linked together with Tommy's, and they're laughing, and so he stays where he is. Just watches.

It's sweet, a little fumbling as Buck very obviously tries to figure out the logistics of slow-dancing with another guy. Tommy says something in a low voice and settles a palm on his hip, and Buck ducks his head, laughing, and leans into him.

It's sweet. It is. Eddie's throat fucking aches.

He doesn't know why, not really. Maybe it's the smile on Buck's face, wide and giddy and almost embarrassingly bright. He never smiled at Natalia like that, or Taylor. Maybe Ali, but the truth is that back then Eddie wasn't looking for it. Back then, he was so caught up in everything with Shannon, and he and Buck were barely more than friendly coworkers, as strange as that idea seems now.

He probably smiled at Abby like that. Eddie wasn't around for that relationship, only the aftermath, but he can imagine it. You don't hurt that badly when someone leaves you unless you really fucking loved them.

"You would not believe the line for the bathroom," Marisol says from behind him, and Eddie jolts like he just grabbed a high-voltage wire. He tries to spin it into something graceful as he turns to face her, but he's pretty sure it doesn't work, and also pretty sure that he shouldn't be feeling quite so jumpscared at the sight of his girlfriend. His heart is pounding. He rubs his knuckles against his sternum, and Marisol asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he says. "Sorry. You startled me."

"No, it's fine." She smiles at him, and it's pretty. She looks pretty, in a blue dress that looks black in this light, little metallic threads picked through and glittering. It hugs the curves of her body in a way that Eddie feels obligated to notice, and so he does, and when he looks her in the eye again she's smiling wider, and that's pretty too and Eddie—

Eddie still feels like a fucking fraud.

"I got you a beer," Marisol says. She's got a glass of wine in her other hand. White wine, lipstick marks on the rim.

Eddie smiles back and takes the bottle she hands him. "Thanks."

"I wasn't sure what you'd want." She grins at him, flirty. "You'll have to tell me if I made a bad guess."

He sips the beer. It's a lager, hoppy and astringent in a way that leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He takes another drink and smiles around the grimace his mouth wants to make. "It's perfect. Thank you."

The pleased relief in her smile doesn't make the lie feel any better. He takes another sip and sets the bottle down, and Marisol settles her hip against his chair, close enough that he can feel the warmth of her body. Close enough that he could wrap an arm around her thighs and pull her into his lap, if he wanted to do that. He shifts forward instead, leaning his elbows against the table, and she lets out a quiet sound and sets her glass down to sit in the chair next to him. The music switches over from Christina Perri to what Eddie is pretty sure is Savage Garden, and on the dance floor Tommy says something that makes Buck laugh and pull him closer.

"They're cute together," Marisol observes. "Buck and, um… Tommy?"

Eddie's fingers twitch on his beer bottle. "Yeah."

"I didn't know that he was, you know…" she trails off. Eddie looks over at her, and she adds, "Not that there's anything wrong with it! I just, I thought he had a girlfriend."

"They broke up. He dates guys too," Eddie says, more emphatically than is really necessary. Like this is a truth that he's always known instead of something Buck told him two weeks ago in the loft, quiet and careful like he was afraid of how Eddie would react. Like he was afraid of Eddie.

It was a date, we were on a date.

So it's new for Buck, too. Not just him. But still.

It feels like something he should have known.

"Okay," Marisol says. The corners of her mouth tighten, and she takes a pointed sip of her wine. "I didn't know that, is all."

I didn't know either, Eddie imagines saying, but the words strangle themselves in his throat just the same as, Actually, I don't like lagers, and, I don't really want company tonight, did. He wonders how the hell Buck does it—just opens his mouth and lets the truth spill out. Eddie can only manage that when it's for other people. Never for himself.

"Sorry," he says out loud. "It's been… a day."

Marisol's face softens a little, and he feels like shit about that, too. It has been a day, is the thing. He woke up in a bathtub, more hungover than he's been in at least a decade, and after that was a wild goose-chase through the desert to retrieve Chim in time for the wedding, and all that is plenty of reason for him to be off his game now. It's just that somehow it also feels like a fucking lie.

On the dance floor, Buck has his cheek pressed to Tommy's. He says something, and Tommy's shoulders shake with laughter, and then they both turn, moving easily together into a kiss. It's quick and tender, and Eddie abruptly feels like the worst kind of voyeur for watching it happen. He turns his head away and finds Marisol looking at him.

The music changes again. TLC, he's pretty sure, because Chim is deep down a very basic Gen X music kind of guy. Or maybe it was Maddie's pick, who knows. Anyway. It's a little more upbeat, but still slow enough to dance to.

"You, uh." He clears his throat, and finds a smile that feels almost right. "Come on, you wanna dance before they close it all down? They're playing our song."

"This is our song?" Marisol asks, but she's laughing. "I don't even think I was born yet when it came out."

Eddie shrugs and holds out a hand. "It could be our song. Maybe for tonight it's just a good song to dance to."

That must have been the right thing to say. She smiles, sets her wine down, and slips her hand into his, letting him tug her to her feet. They wind their way through the chairs to the dance floor, and under the string lights she settles easily into his arms. 

I know you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all, rasps the singer in a sweetly smoky voice, as Eddie closes his eyes, and sways, and breathes, but I think you're moving too fast.

I think you're moving too fast.

He breathes in, and out, and opens his eyes. Marisol smiles up at him, and he smiles back, then cuts his eyes away. There are still a handful of people left on the dance floor with them: Athena and Bobby, swaying together like they're in their own little world, a couple of Buckley cousins with their dates. Buck and Tommy are gone, though, and Eddie almost cranes his head through the crowd to see where they got to before he catches himself.

"To tell you the truth," Marisol says. "I really don't think this is our song."

"Alright, well, we can find another one," Eddie says, and she laughs and sways into him, and he holds onto her, and when he closes his eyes, it's fine; it all feels fine.

#911 #911 fic #eddie diaz #buddie #bucktommy #my fic #i actually have no idea how to tag this pairing-wise lol #it is somehow both all and none of the above

[comfortless]

this thought has been running around in my head for weeks and your König hcs are my favorite… so here i go

what icks do you think our König has? ik he may consider himself to fall in the “beggars can’t be choosers” category but i am just so curious… 🤔

FAVORITE?! 💞 you are so correct about the “beggars can’t be choosers” mentality. König is very much aware of how other people tend to view him as some creepy, stupid brute. i think that there is certainly a lot that bothers him, mostly attributed to his past, but none of it is an actual dealbreaker in any sense. you’re likely to be met with a cold shoulder and a bit of trust diminished at most. the majority of his “icks” are just him picking up on red flags. the gross or awkward things are just cute to him!

A very “vapid” approach to interests and such is going to make him concerned. König does not understand trends, or liking something simply because someone else does. He equates keeping up with pop culture and fashion as being similar to the children that tortured him in the past (So: popular kids with popular hobbies). Authenticity is held in high regard here. The stranger and more alienated that you are, the more compatible and similar you two may be in his mind.

This said, König would go feral seeing you in one of those pretty dresses or outfits that are all the rage. Dressing like a cute milkmaid for a picnic date, playing some sweet love song for him that you may have picked off a viral video, etc. He’s not exactly in touch with these things so he’s no proper judge or jury here.

Being too pushy. There’s a fine line there that’s not to be crossed. He much prefers playing the role of a leader rather than being a submissive follower. He’ll boast about being your devotee, worship like a dog at your feet, but he likes to feel in control of the relationship and what goes on within it.

He’ll never tell you directly that yes, his anxiety will be gnawing at his guts if you plead with him to come along with you to a commonly crowded mall, and expects that a simple rejection should suffice. It’s likely he would keep hushed about the fact that your frustrated pleading actually turns him on, too.

Being unnecessarily cruel. The man gets cruelty, he’s paid in abundance for it. But women should be sweet and soft. If you’re talking poorly about another person, using words like “ugly” or a slur of some kind, how are you any better than some bully? It does not matter that the victim can not hear you speaking about them, what matters is that he can. It would send him into a spiral of thinking that each time you two have had an argument, you’re likely cruelly chattering about him to your friends afterward.

Yet… he is very much the type to shoot an inept employee a glare and make demands. He will call his fellow operators all sorts of things when he returns from a mission gone wrong. König is the king of double standards here.

By extension, dogging him/his work/his interests is sure to bother him. König likes to believe that he’s done the work to make himself more pleasing now: trained his body through the military to give himself the stature women seem to drool over, covers what he can of his face when it’s socially acceptable so that others don’t harp on an unpleasant glimpse, even thinks of himself as some sort of chivalrous gentleman (very easy to do so as no one gets a peek at what goes on in his mind). His work, not therapy, is where he gets to blow off steam in a justifiable, honorable way. Sure, he’s got some dorky, juvenile interests, but they’re things that he enjoys.

Talk of previous relationships/sex would immediately make his blood boil! Even if it’s said to assure him that he’s better than a former lover. He’s just very jealous and if he were to be blunt, he would tell you he is addicted to the relationship and doesn’t want to think of anyone else ever having what he does currently. It’s best not to mention any past you may have had unless you care to answer a series of questions. “Were they better in bed?”… “Full name?” … “When did you last see them?”

Ironically, if you already have children, he would absolutely adore the stepdad role. It’s not so much as a challenge, then, only the glee that comes with getting to play savior for more than one person.

Infidelity. Whether in a past relationship or in a current one with him. The thought of you ever cheating on him, emotionally or physically, would tear him apart. Something as simple as a fantasy of wanting two or more men to serve you is filed messily in his brain with this, too. Same with you confessing to finding another man attractive, whether a celebrity, someone entirely fictional, or even some random civilian padding by on the sidewalk. All of that counts as some minute form of infidelity to König. He does not share.

He’s guilty of threesome fantasies, guilty of staring down a woman that he finds attractive… he just doesn’t act on these things, holds his tongue and huffs that he certainly wasn’t looking and would never want to fuck any one other than you. It does not really occur to him that those things are normal, especially in long term relationships.

Bear in mind that this is all from a man who almost entirely lacks shame. He’s comfortable with himself now (somewhat). He has no qualms with chewing the skin around his fingernails when he’s stressed out, picking his nose in front of you, shitting with the bathroom door wide open, or talking with his mouth full when he’s just that engaged in a conversation. I think it’s only fair to include some of the things he does that may be repulsive!

Absolutely clueless when it comes to seeing you cry. He has no idea how to comfort someone properly as he never really had that. His solution seems to be hovering over you and asking a thousand questions or just draping himself over you and letting your arms curl over him for comfort.

Would kiss you with his eyes open. Not his fault that you’re so pretty and he doesn’t want to miss a moment of it. Not always, but once is bad enough.

Would absolutely send you an “I miss you” text the day after your first date. Will also tell you that he’s in love with you the first time you have sex.

Will get hyperfixated on historical weapons and will absolutely purchase some rusted, ancient relic without telling you beforehand. It gets well polished and loved, then displayed on your living room wall.

Loves talking about his kills. He’s proud, because if there’s one thing that he’s good at it’s knowing where to shoot or stab or punch. He knows to hold his tongue about the more grisly details around someone delicate, but more often than not he is prone to slip-ups.

Will use your toothbrush without asking.

Thinks he’s very skilled and very cool because he can trim up any overgrown facial hair with a pocket lighter. It is not cool. There’s a razor and shaving cream right there. He may not burn himself, but it’s not exactly pleasant to have your bathroom smelling of burned hair.

Does not have a lick of fashion knowledge. Plain t-shirts, jeans, combat boots, maybe a belt if he cares to bother with it at most. At the least, when he’s at home, you can expect him to indulge in some nudist fantasy because it’s unlikely he will bother to wear a thing. Maybe socks.

#kö headcanons #this was super fun actually heheh #he can be a little gross as a treat! it is cute…

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: “So this is what a full hotel looks like…”

Vaggie: “Think it’ll survive until Extermination day?”

Charlie: “I don’t know if I’LL survive to Extermination day.”

Vaggie: “Aww, babe.”

Charlie: “Seriously, who keeps ordering pizza??? We all already KNOW the cannibals will just skip it and try chewing on the poor delivery person!”

Vaggie: “My bet’s on Angel Dust. He’s not exactly thrilled the place got filled up with ‘shit smiling judgmental prudes.’”

Charlie: “Whyyy didn’t I remember the cannibals have a whole dress-code thingy?”

Vaggie: “They are being polite about it though.”

Charlie: “They keep eyeing Angel Dust’s exposed thighs like they’re chicken wings.”

Vaggie: “And if they wanted to eat him up in any other way, he’d be thrilled.”

Charlie: (growling) “Some of them keep looking at YOUR thighs as if they were-”

Vaggie: “Anything other than property of Charlie Morningstar?”

Charlie: “-Vaggie they want to TEAR YOU APART!”

Vaggie: “And they’re not actually trying it, which is polite, even if they’re still talking about how angels might taste whenever I’m in the room.”

Charlie: (pout) “You taste good.”

Vaggie: “Not like that, babe.”

Charlie: “How could the rest of you not taste good too??”

Vaggie: “Ask the cannibals. Meat flavors based on where the meat thing lived and what it ate, something something- What if angel steaks taste like artificial food coloring?”

Charlie: “I like those-!”

Vaggie: "I know." (laughing) “Maybe that’s another reason why you’re the woman of my dreams.”

Charlie: “Am I?”

Vaggie: “The one and only.”

Charlie: “You’d never… think about leaving me for someone else?”

Vaggie: “NO?”

Charlie: “Someone a little more badass maybe?”

Vaggie: “Not possible. You called heaven out for being total bullshit. In a song.”

Charlie: “Maybe someone you had an instant and deep connection with?”

Vaggie: “Like the woman that bandaged my eye socket and took me home with her and nursed me through physical and emotional hell all because she also thought sinners might be people worth caring about?”

Charlie: “Well what about someone who… is just better? At the whole. Everything.”

Vaggie: “Literally who. Who the fuck-”

Charlie: “Carmilla?”

Vaggie: “Car-hhhhHHH." (chokes)

Vaggie: "AHAHAHAHAH! Charlie! WHAT!?”

Charlie: “She’s cool. She’s one of those, those muffin things right? Angel Dust said-”

Vaggie: “A milf, sweetie. It’s milf and PLEASE also listen to Husk’s reality checks whenever Angel Dust opens his well meaning but dumb as shit whore mouth.”

Angel Dust: (distantly) “My HOT and SEXY whore mouth heard that, toots!”

Vaggie: (yelling back) “Then go stick a dick in it!”

Angel Dust: “I’m tryin’~”

Charlie: (used to this) (ignoring them) “So the whole private training battle song thing was, not a turn on for you? At all?”

Vaggie: “If I ever call Carmilla Carmine ‘mommy’ it’ll be because she just signed my adoption papers.”

Charlie: “Oh! Okay! Juuuust wanted to check.”

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: “Are you gonna ask about me and the head-to-heart I had with-”

Vaggie: “No.”

Charlie: “-because I was literally thinking about you the whole time-“

Vaggie: (smile) “That just took a perfectly non-worrying thing and made it sound bad.”

Charlie: “Is there a thing like a- an elf??”

Vaggie: “Aunt you’d like to fuck?”

Charlie: “Well not ME personally. But Rosie is very impressive.”

Vaggie: “You looked more impressed up in heaven.”

Charlie: “Huh? Heaven??”

Vaggie: “Nothing- never mind. I do actually have a lady-related question for you though.”

Charlie: “What does heaven have to do with- what?”

Vaggie: “I think I’m in love.”

Charlie: “WHAT!?”

Vaggie: “She’s ripped out my heart and I want to thank her for it.”

Charlie: “Th-thh that’s wait how when-?”

Vaggie: “Charlie.”

Charlie: “-y, yes?”

Vaggie: “Can we keep inviting Susan over, even after Extermination day?”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “Susan.”

Vaggie: “Charlie please? Please? She's the granny I don't deserve and desperately need in my life. Please please please please-”

Charlie: “But, Vaggie- She HATES everyone!”

Vaggie: “I know!”

Charlie: “And she SAYS it!?”

Vaggie: “And it’s so fucking cool.”

Charlie: “She said you dress like a hooker!”

Vaggie: “Angel Dust was furious. I think he would’ve thrown a punch at her, in defense of hookers everywhere, if Husk hasn’t grabbed him.”

Charlie: “A LAZY hooker!”

Vaggie: “That one hit home and I’ll cherish it’s sting forever.”

Charlie: “She’s not NICE. She doesn’t even PRETEND to be nice like the other cannibals do!”

Vaggie: “Isn’t that great?” (grinning) “She’s like, the anti-Alastor….”

Charlie: (sigh)

Charlie: “I guess… being brutally, painfully, rudely honestly about your feelings is… not the worst thing someone can be.”

Vaggie: “YES! Can we adopt the creepy old mean lady?”

Charlie: “She can visit. We are NOT inviting her to LIVE here.”

Vaggie: (smiling)

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: (drooping) “…not unless she wants to.”

Vaggie: “Thanks, sweetie.” (kiss) “She never would. She hates us all and especially the hotel. Ask her and she’ll tell you, in detail, how all our decorating ideas are terrible and she’s only here to grab the free snacks, shove some angel leftovers in her basket, and then fuck off to her own perfect home back in Cannibal Town.”

Charlie: “So why scare me like that by asking? SUSAN in the attic! Ughghgh…”

Vaggie: “’cause it’s nice hearing you’d be open to it anyway.”

Charlie: “Mmrmph.”

Vaggie: “I like remembering that you’re like this.”

Charlie: “Whipped marshmallow.”   

Vaggie: "That Angel Dust again?"

Charlie: "Maybe."

Vaggie: "I've got a better word for you."

Charlie: "Like 'girlfriend?"

Vaggie: “Like amazing.”

Charlie: (snorts) (smiles) "Heh. Alright, flattery accepted."

Vaggie: "My wonderfully, adorably dramatic, heart stopping and breathtakingly passionate girlfriend, the most incredible person I've ever met, who-"

Charlie: (laughing) “Now who’s being a sweetie?”

Vaggie: “Charlie, I’m seri- whoah!”

Niffty: (lifting up floor board vaggie was standing on and peeking up at them) “Hey guys!”

Charlie: “Niffty!” (hug lifting vaggie to safety) “W- hi! Um! What is it?”

Niffty: “A bad day not to wear underwear!”

Vaggie: “And a good day to Die.”

Niffty: "I WISH!" (GIGGLES) “News from the hotel gossip line! S.O.S from Husk- he says Angel Dust and some cannibals are fighting over who gets to put the new pizza delivery in their mouths while Cherri’s taking bets and also shots.”

Charlie: "Shots of alcohol?"

Niffty: "Laser gun!"

Charlie: "Nooooo I thought we'd cleaned up everything after Pen's last inventing spree!"

Niffty: "Missed one. She keeps missing too. She fried the pizza."

Vaggie: "Instead of?"

Niffty: (GRINS) "The pizza delivery person!"

Vaggie: “Ugh. We look away for Ten. Minutes.”

Charlie: “Well that’s not- that’s not TOO bad! At least Sir Pentious isn’t-”

Niffty: “His corpse is in the lobby.”

Charlie: “-right. Okay.”

Vaggie: “Why is he a corpse in the hotel lobby this time?”

Niffty: “The cannibals accidentally ate his tongue while he was trying to show Cherri how long it was and then he choked while proving he has no gag reflect and can unhinge his jaws.”

Charlie: “Oh.”

Niffty: “The cannibals want to snack on him again but Susan keeps yelling at them about ‘crumbling standards’ and ‘back in HER day-‘”

Vaggie: “I love her.”

Charlie: “I’m right here.”

Vaggie: “You kinda love her too right now.”

Charlie: (pulls face) “She can come to dinner every other week. If we live. For now though, let’s just, um.”

Vaggie: “Go save the snake man?”

Niffty: “That man is DEAD!”

Charlie: “Resuscitate. We should go resuscitate the snake m- Sir Pentious.”

Niffty: (giggles) “And I’m gonna go order another pizza boy~” (scurries back under floor board)

Vaggie: “Wait, Niffty-”

Charlie: “Niffty! Are YOU the one who’s been-? Vaggie NO-”

Vaggie: (spear out) (in pursuit) “GET OUT OF THE CRAWL SPACES RIGHT NOW AND COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE-”

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #niffty hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #vaggie dealing with the fallout of charlie talking relationship stuff with angel dust #susan as vaggie's ideal snarky grandma #pentious... tried #niffty is infesting the hotel #(with chaos) #(and hopefully at least a little bloodshed) #vaggie is not worried about charlie being alone with rosie she's worried about #uhhh #nothing #totally nothing at all #the cannibals are being good hotel guests #by the standards of hell anyway #i like the idea of niffry scurrying around under the hotels floors... in it's walls... #hunting her prey in the darkness and #giving everyone jumpscares

[holylulusworld]

Dinner for all

Summary: You, your husband, and your kids are having a family dinner.

Pairing: AU!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, daddy Bucky

Catch up here: Dinner for four

Bucky sighs deeply. Another expensive dress shirt is ruined thanks to his baby girl. The little chubby angel threw food at her father.

“Baby girl, you need to eat this delicious food. Mommy made it only for you,” Bucky coos his baby girl. He pretends the spoon is an airplane to get her to eat the food you prepared. “For daddy.”

“She likes it when mommy sings the happy song,” your son says. “She sings it whenever little sis is sad and cries.”

“The happy song, huh,” Bucky nods. He ruffles his son’s hair and smirks. “Do you want to sing it with me? We need to get your sister fed before we can prepare dinner.”

You lean in the doorframe, silently watching Bucky and your son sing for your little girl. Lilly Ann holds out her chubby hands, squealing and giggling as her father sings only for her.

“Daddy, you sound awful,” Bucky Jr. giggles. “Mommy has a nicer voice.”

“Lilly Ann likes it,” Bucky picks his daughter up and slowly rocks her in his arms. “Right, sweetheart. You love it when Daddy sings for you. My little girl.” He smiles when your daughter clumsily grabs his face. 

“Daddy, I didn’t mean it that way,” your son sniffles, afraid his father is mad at him. “You can sing for me too.”

“It’s alright, bud,” Bucky crouches down to get on eye level with your son. “I know mommy is the better singer, but I can make nice pancakes.”

Your son dreamily looks at his father. “Pancakes,” he nods eagerly. “Can we have pancakes for dinner, Daddy?”

“We can have them in the morning. Mommy wants pasta for dinner, Bucky Jr.” Your husband softly speaks to his son. “I promise to make you pancakes in the morning.”

“Yes!” Your son makes a victory pose. You chuckle at their interaction, finally catching their attention. “MOMMY!”

Your son stumbles toward you to hug you tightly. “Daddy tried to feed lil sis and she threw food at him.” He grins up at you. “Can we have pancakes for dinner?”

“Daddy already told you that we are going to eat pasta,” you crouch down to ruffle your son’s hair. “Daddy will make pancakes in the morning, just like he promised.”

“Did he just try to play us off against each other?” Bucky chuckles. “We need to keep a close eye on that little man, doll.” He quirks a brow when your son turns around to look at his father.

“Aw, don’t be mad at Bucky Jr. He just loves your pancakes,” you softly speak and pick your son up. “How about we have dinner and talk about our little devil later.”

“That’s delicious,” your son eagerly chews the pasta you and Bucky cooked. “I like it, mommy.”

“Daddy helped,” you pat your son’s head. “He’s a good cook, among other things.” You smile at your husband. “And he easily tames your little sister. Look how she behaves when he holds her.”

Bucky laughs as he holds your daughter in his arms. She coos and grasps his hand. He barely had the time to eat because Lilly Ann would be fussy anytime he tried to put her into her highchair.

“See this baby girl? Soon you will enjoy daddy’s food too,” Bucky whispers and pecks your baby’s chubby cheek. He smiles at you, remembering the first time you met.

You and Bucky came a long way, but you wouldn’t want to miss a single day…

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #au!bucky barnes x reader #daddy!bucky #Dinner for all #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[lazorbeanz]

Wachowski Family Headcanons

💙 For Christmas, Tom and Maddie got Knuckles one of them..I forgot what u call em..music boxing machine thingys, that you attach to the wall and you punch different areas on board on time to the beat of a song.

Yeeeeah not only did he destroy that the moment his fists made contact, but he also left a little costly gift of his own for his parents on the same wall where it once was…

❤️ Sonic still has to check with Maddie to know whether a certain cup, bowl or container is microwave save.

Sonic: Hey Tails, can this go in the microwave?

Tails: ………*shrugs*

Sonic: Oh come on- *immediately calls Maddie waiting for her to pick up* Mommy ANSWER……MOMMY!!

Tails very well knows…he just wants to see his brother go into panic state

🧡 The brothers when bowling

Knuckles: Grabs the heaviest ball and chucks it with one arm, and somehow manages to get a couple strikes. However he has had a few warnings and even got his family suspended from the complex for what he claimed to be “minor damage” (he threw a ball up into the screen displaying the scores and another time, smashed a ball down too hard on a lane it went straight through the floor)

Tails: Still struggles to lift the ball properly so he uses two hands when holding/throwing it. Sometimes he will use the ramp that is available or he gets help with his stance from a family member (usually Maddie). Doesn’t make strikes often but his family is super encouraging and supportive towards him and he is determined not to give up, and when he makes one for the first time, they go absolutely wild. They’d fill the room with their screams and shouts and all ambush the fox with hugs and kisses and praises for his mini milestone. Tom would pick Tails up and sit him on his shoulder as they all chant his name…the smile on Tails’ face could not be any wider, he was the happiest boy in the world at that moment. But shortly after he bursts into tears because never had he experienced anything like this in his life. His tiny heart just couldn’t handle all this appreciation, support and love that came from a place he once least expected.

Sonic: IS the bowling ball. He’d often forms an alliance with Tom to become the undefeatable father/son duo, though Maddie just sees it as cheating, as wholesome and funny as it is. Sonic once got trapped behind the fence that comes down once you knock over the pins, and had to come out through the channel that returns the balls. They get a bit hesitant on this as they’re worried he might get stuck under there. When he’s not being the ball, he’s either helping Tails, dancing to the music, or begging his parents to do the mii spinning action from wii sports when he chucks the ball behind him.

💙 When Tom is out on his street patrols around town, the boys sneak out and follow him.

Cue to the part where he’s taking a break in a parking lot, looks out the window just to see his 3 sons in the distance sitting on the fence…with Sonic holding a fishing rod with a bag of donuts hooked on the end of the line, the trio snickering away as he made eye contact.

They were clearly tryna lure him in, The Donut Lord, with donuts! Some smart cookies they were…he shook his head, smiling to himself before muttering through the mic, “Tempting…”

He could hear the 3 cackling in the distance, Sonic almost having a Humpty Dumpty incident.

❤️ here’s a meme that screams Sonic and Tom lmao

🧡 another meme ahAaA

What if Tom’s secretly a gamer dad? 🤔🤣

#been sitting in the drafts for a while #anyways I hope you like them #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #tails the fox #knuckles the echidna #sth #sonic #sonic wachowski #tails wachowski #knuckles wachowski #tom wachowski #maddie wachowski #wachowski family #wachowski brothers #sonic headcanons #sonic movie headcanons #sonic movie #movie sonic #movie tails #movie knuckles #memes

[angelasscribbles]

All That She Wants Chapter 1: Riley's Dilemma

Series: All That She Wants

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam in this chapter. Riley x Drake coming and possibly Liam x Olivia.

Word Count: 644

Rating: M

Warnings for this chapter: none

A/N: I know I haven't written much lately. This song has been stuck in my head and then this happened.

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley’s eyes cracked open and squinted in protest against the brightening dawn streaming in through the windows. She rolled over to find the spot next to her still warm, but already empty. Her gaze traveled across the room and wistfully took in the sight of her husband as he walked from the ensuite to the walk-in closet, dropped the towel wrapped around his waist, and began dressing.

“You could come back to bed,” she invited.

His eyes flicked in her direction, then quickly away as he shook his head. “No time for that. I have an itinerary to keep to.”

“But Liam…” she climbed out of the double king bed that had become entirely too big over the past eight years and made her way across the room to him, swaying her hips as she went.

“Riley, I don’t have time for—”

She ran a hand through his hair and then down the broad expanse of his chest as she leaned in with a seductive whisper. “We could make another baby.” She had been tracking her fertility, and she knew she was ovulating. Today was a good day for conception.

He removed her hand from his body and turned away from her with an annoyed sigh. Grabbing a comb, he quickly arranged his hair back to immaculate. “We’ve talked about this. Cordonia has an heir and a spare. I’ve done my duty to the crown. I don’t want any more children.”

“But—”

“If you want another baby, find someone else to father it.” With that, he turned on his heel and was gone. No goodbye kiss, no nothing.

She released a breath of frustration as she looked at herself in the mirror. The red silky negligee hugged her curves and set off her tanned complexion rather nicely.

She turned from one side to the other, examining her reflection critically. Sure, she was a little heavier than she had been on their wedding day eight years ago, but she had given him two children. She was still reasonably fit, young, and attractive. So why didn’t her husband want her anymore?

Tears welled up in her eyes. She brushed them away angrily. She knew why.

Fucking Olivia Nevrakis, that’s why.

Storming back to the bed, she threw herself in it and lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling.

She was lonely. Once upon a time, she had focused all the attention that her husband didn’t want on their children. Now they were older and in lessons much of the day, leaving her at loose ends.

Maybe Hana could come for a visit soon. Maybe she should call her mother. If Liam was going to ignore her, the least he could do was give her another baby to keep her occupied. A sweet, cuddly, bundle of joy that would love her back.

As she lay there feeling sorry for herself, an idea presented itself to her.

She sat up as her eyes widened.

She swiped her phone from the nightstand and punched in Mara’s number. “Send me the guard schedule for the day.”

She had barely pressed the end button before her phone dinged with the requested information. She opened the attachment. Her fingers ran down the list, searching for one name in particular.

He wasn’t working today. A smile crawled across her face. She knew exactly where he would be.

She called down to the kitchen with instructions and then texted her assistant to clear her schedule for the day.

After breakfast in the nursery with her children, she kissed Ellie and Xander, turned them over to the tutors for their morning lessons, and returned to her room to get ready for the day.

An hour later she stood in front of the mirror again, this time in her most flattering swimsuit. She smiled at herself, pleased with her decision before wrapping a sarong around her waist and heading out the door of the royal suite.

If Liam wouldn’t give her a baby, maybe Drake would.

#the royal romance #trr #angelasscribbles #the royal romance fanfic #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

[pit-and-the-pen]

Spring Meadow

I have not been able to get soft Lucien out of my head all morning so heres a super fluffy fic about our boy being absolutely in love with you.

Lucien X Spring court!reader

Lucien deserves the absolute world, boy has been through enough. 

Warnings: None

WC: 1.6k

Lucien never regretted his decision to come to the spring court. The cruelty of the Autumn court gave way to something sweeter. Autumn always reminded him of death. He saw it in the trees that constantly shed their leaves, in the terror of everyone in the court. Worst of all, he saw it in his brothers. Fear seemed to permeate the air wherever you went and his family wore it the most. Cloaked in gripping fear of their own father. When he arrived in spring, it was like he could breathe for the first time in his life. Flowers bloomed and birds sang cheerful songs. The lords and ladies of the court would smile at each other as they passed. Spring reminded him that he wanted to be alive. 

Of course, he also had you. He had never intended to fall in love. Heart still in tatters over Jesminda, love was the last thing on his mind. But there you were. One of the ladies of Tamlins court. He found you in the meadow he frequently hid away in. Weaving flowers into a makeshift crown, basking in the first few hours of sunlight as it crested the horizon. The willow wisps seemed to sing a special song just for you. 

He can still feel the shock run through him, blinking hard as if he might wake up from a dream. Lucien decided that if it was a dream, he would happily never wake up. You startled as he cleared his throat. Hands pausing your work as he introduced himself. He swore he felt his heart stop dead when you smiled at him, giving him your name. 

That’s when it all started. It wasn’t an all consuming fire but a slow ember that he nursed into something roaring. You were patient with him as he figured out how to let his guard down. A comforting shoulder when days got too heavy for him to get out of bed. Those were days you would curl up next to him, hands deftly braiding his hair or reading him one of your favorite books. Those were the days that Lucien knew he was falling in love with you. 

Today was one of those days. You managed to pull him out of bed and the two of you stood in the kitchen. Flour streaked across your face as you kneaded the dough ball in front of you. Giving it a small smack, you put it in the bowl next to you and draped a wet towel over it. 

“There, I have an hour before I can bake it.” You washed off your hands and walked over to where Lucien sat on a stool at the counter. You patted his thighs and he parted them enough for you to squeeze yourself between them. With care, you wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a peck on the cheek. “What would you like to do today, Lu?” He wanted nothing more than to just crawl back into bed. Hold you in his arms until his thoughts could do anything but swirl around angrily in his head. But you had told him you wanted to get out of the house today so he instead said. 

“What about a picnic in the meadow?” He suggested. He wished he could bottle that look in your eyes, pure wonder and excitement. 

“Absolutely. Once the bread is done I’ll make us sandwiches. Oh and I’ll cut up some of that fruit from last night.” You chirped. He gave you another tight squeeze as you started gathering all the things you needed to bring. Lucien sat and stared at you. His heart squeezing in the best way possible. He pushed himself off the stool and went to your side, helping you pull out the fruit sent from the summer court. You instructed him on how to peel and chop the chosen fruit. His rough chunks were almost laughable in comparison to the shapes you cut into the fruit. He never understood how you made the various patterns you were able to cut them into, deftly cutting hearts and flowers. He helped you string them onto wooden skewers and squeezed the lemon juice on them so they wouldn’t brown, a trick you had taught him the last time you went on a picnic. You wrapped them up in a small towel and he went to grab your wicker basket from your room. 

Even your room made him smile. Organized chaos as you called it. Flowers covered as many surfaces as they could. You had used your powers to make honeysuckle creep up the walls, covering the wall by the window and swirling up to the ceiling. The white blooms fill the room with their sweet scent. He used to complain about the pollen dropping over everything but he learned to appreciate it over time. He even went as far as cleaning it up on days you were too busy to do it yourself. You always thanked him by peppering his face with small kisses when he did. 

He quickly located the basket he had been sent to find. He also grabbed one of your favorite blankets and the book you had been slowly reading to him. Both of you could have easily finished it on your own by now but he loved listening to your voice as you read it out loud, your voice wrapping around the words brought the story to life. 

When he walked back into the kitchen, you were bent towards the oven, pushing in the bread pan. Standing back up, you adjusted the top to your flowy sundress and untied the now dirty apron from your waist. You smiled at him as he held up the basket like it was a trophy. He was rewarded by the peel of your laughter. He wanted to wrap himself in the sound so he did just that, practically sprinting across the kitchen to embrace you. Hugging you so tightly he lifted you off the ground. He was rewarded with another string of giggles and when he sat you back on your feet your cheeks had a glowing blush to them. You stretched up onto your tiptoes and kissed him passionately. 

He let out a surprised noise as your teeth found his lower lip. You smiled into the kiss as he swept you off your feet, placing you on the kitchen counter so he wouldn’t have to bend down. Your hands found their way to his hair and the two of you got lost in each other. Eventually, you both need to pull away for air. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath and he tried to ignore the way your tongue swept over your lips before he was tempted to forgo the picnic and drag you to bed for other reasons. 

He joined you, pulling himself up onto the counter. So close to you his thighs were pressed against yours. You picked up his hand and started drawing random patterns and swirls. The conversation flowed easily out of the two of you while you were waiting for the bread to finish baking. Its smell filled the room and made his stomach grumble. Luckily, before he could even think of making a joke about his stomach eating itself, the timer you had set dinged loudly. You grabbed a dish towel and pulled the perfect loaf from the oven. After letting it cool for a few minutes, you started assembling the sandwiches, cutting them into perfect triangles. Wrapping them in their own towel and adding them to the basket. You looked up at him, “All ready to go!” 

You all but pulled him to the meadow, a childlike sort of excitement as you babbled on about the newest gossip in the court. He didn’t really follow your words too much, too many names he didn’t recognize, but he held to every word you uttered. Savoring the sound of your voice. 

When you finally decided on a spot, he laid out the blanket on the dew covered grass. You sat crossed legged in the middle and started unpacking the basket. 

After the food was eaten, you laid down, arms holding your top half off the ground. Lucien placed his head on your thighs using you as his personal pillow and handed you the book before you could even reach for it. That action earned him a kiss to his forehead, your hair draping around him as you leaned down. You flipped to the page you had left off on the night before. 

Sitting out in this field, your free hand playing absentmindedly with his hair. Lucien knew that this was true happiness. Happiness that he had never felt before meeting you. Happiness he was terrified of losing but allowed himself to feel anyways. He would go to the ends of the earth to protect you and he knows you would do the same for him. His emotions suddenly welled up inside of his chest and he lifted his head off your lap. Your reading stopped as you went to ask him what was wrong, reading the tears in his eyes as something other than pure joy. He spoke before you could. 

“Can we stay like this forever.” He said, leaning closer into you. You kissed him, soft and gentle. 

“Of course my love.” You cuddled tighter to his side and pulled him into a deep kiss. He rolled you on top of him, and you pulled away to say, “We can stay like this for as long as you want.”

#lucien vanserra #acomaf #acosf #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acowar #lucien acotar #pro lucien #spring court #a court of thorns and roses #lucien fluff #lucien spell cleaver #fluff #this is so sweet #im squealing #soft lucien #lucien x oc

[measuredingold]

7:15

author's note: hello hello hello ! the jolly fic i promised last month. on a roll :-) i have a few trips coming up and i wanted to get this sweet lil fic out before i was away from home. i haven't wrote much for jolly and i just really like how this came out. short and sweet, domestic as fuck. as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated !

pairing: joakim karlsson x reader

cross-posted on ao3

word count: 1.9k

cw/tags: fluff, sweet domestic tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, maybe some angst but it lasts 2 seconds, kissing, ~suggestive~ content, 18+ minors do not interact

Jolly wakes up slowly, a groan slipping from his lips as he stretches his limbs out across the bed. He pauses, realizing the spot beside him was unoccupied and cold, and a frown settles on his lips. Blinking, he sits up and stretches out his limbs again with another groan, looking beside him to confirm that yes, the other side of the bed is definitely empty. 

He doesn't panic, no, because he sees the bedroom door has been left ajar only slightly, but enough to let him hear you downstairs. It's a distant sound, muffled, but he can hear the clambering and chattering of pans in the kitchen and the faint hum of music. The frown on his lips slips away and a smile replaces it soon after, heart twisting. 

He loves mornings like this with you. With their more than hectic schedule now, mornings like this are few and far in-between, so he tries to never take it for granted. Even though he'd much rather drag you back into bed with him and sleep a few more hours, (he flinches at the time on the clock, 7:15), he throws his legs over the side of the bed and pushes himself up. He hisses as his feet meet the cold floor but braves it, shuffling out of your shared bedroom and down the stairs. 

The music gets louder the closer he gets to the kitchen and he's not sure what it is, something easy to listen to early in the morning. Some morning indie playlist you found on Spotify, he's sure. He smiles again when he finds you in sweatpants and an old shirt of his, hair pulled back out of your face. Your back is facing him, humming along to whatever song is playing, and he leans against the wall beside him. Jolly doesn't remember the last time he was able to just... admire you from afar. He's always in your space whenever he's home, the both of you wanting to spend as much time with each other as you can, never leaving each other's side. 

He likes seeing you like this. As corny as it sounds, this is the most beautiful he thinks you are. Still sleepy he’s sure, still in your pajamas, hair thrown in a messy ponytail, cooking breakfast for the both of you. It's something he'll never get tired of.  

After a solid two minutes of silently watching you, he shuffles over to where you stand and doesn't waste time in wrapping his arms around your middle, lips meeting your shoulder.

"Good morning."

"Was waiting for you to come over here." You hum and instantly melt back into his chest. "Were you just watching me in silence?"

"Maybe."

"Creep." 

But he can hear the smile in your voice, which makes him smile, and he presses a kiss to the side of your head before untangling himself from you, leaning against the counter to your right. 

"What's on the menu this morning?" He questions, eyeing the eggs in the pan.

"Eggs and waffles. Wanted some turkey bacon with it too, but was deeply disappointed to find out that we were out." You send him a pout before focusing back on cooking.

"Oh, you poor thing. How will you ever survive?" He teases before reaching out to poke your side gently, causing you to squeak. "I’ll make sure to add it to our ever growing list. You still want to do that today, right?"

"At some point." You nod before reaching over to turn the stove off and then reaching for one of the waffle filled plates that were placed behind him - two for you, three for him. "We also need to clean this place up before you leave. The living room makes me want to peel my skin off... and don't even get me started on your studio."

He hums, almost in an afterthought, and watches you plate the eggs. "We have time, love."

"I know, I just..." You trail off, continuing to plate the food and he watches as your brows begin to furrow like they always did when you were in thought.

He reaches up and rubs his thumb in between your brows. "Your face will get stuck like that."

"Shut up." You grumble, but your face relaxes for just a moment. "I just like having the place clean before you leave. Makes it feel better when you're gone."

It's his turn to frown, brows furrowing as he stares at you. He knows it rough when he leaves. Leaving you here all alone while he's off traveling with the band isn’t an easy thing to do. If it was his choice, he'd bring you with him every time, but he can't. You have responsibilities here... and unfortunately, his responsibilities are elsewhere most of the time.

He doesn't leave for another three weeks, though, and usually you're asking him to help clean up around the house the week prior. Something is obviously bothering you.

"What's on your mind?"

You sigh, sitting the spatula down on the counter after you finally finished plating. "I just... this time feels different. Don’t you think?” 

Jolly cocks and eyebrow up at you. "How so?"

"I don't know." You shrug and come to stand before him, leaning into him and resting your forehead against his shoulder. His arms wrap around you instantly, pulling you closer to him. "You guys are getting bigger, which is amazing. Don't ever think I hate that because I don't, but... the bigger you get means the more tours you get. The more tours you get means..."

You don't say it, voice trailing off, but he knows what your next words will be. The more tours you get means the less time at home. With you. His frown deepens at that.

"Baby..."

"And I don't want to sound selfish. Seriously, I don't! I'm so fucking proud of you, Joakim. All of you. Some of the most deserving people I've ever met, but I..." You sigh again, almost in defeat, and he feels you press closer to him, voice muffled. "I miss you. More than I usually do. It used to be easier, and it still is because I know you'll always come back, but..."

The silence that follows breaks his heart. 

He does remember this last time being away in Europe was a little rougher than normal, constantly thinking about you, wishing you were there with him. It might be because last time they were there you were with him, taking leave from work to join him on their European headliner for this new album. The only thing that really got him through was the fact he knew that when he got home, you'd be right there waiting for him.

"But?" 

"But... it just sucks." You pull back just enough to look up at him, a sad smile settling on your lips. "Wish I could just go with you and not worry about anything else.”

"You could," He's quick to respond. "You've always had that option."

"I know." You mumble, face pressing back against his shoulder. "I feel bad, though. Making you support the both of us. Plus, you know how much I hate flying. I couldn't stand it." 

Jolly laughs at the tiny groan you let out, probably remembering your flight last year to the UK with him and the rest of the band. You had begged Matt to switch seats with you, so he could be by the window and you in the aisle with Jolly squished between you two. One look out the window - while you were still on the ground - had sent you in a spiral. He remembers having to hold your hand the entire flight, and when it was allowed, lifting up the armrest so you could press yourself into his side. He hadn't minded it one bit, finding it endearing that you put all your trust in him to keep you safe.

"You and flying don't mix well." He teases, hands now rubbing up and down your arms. "But... you know I don't mind providing for you."

"I know you don't."

"And I love taking care of you."

"I know you do." You whine, pulling back again to pout up at him. "But you know I can't let you do that. My brain tells me no."

"Tell your brain to get over it and let your boyfriend take care of you." He leans forward, planting a kiss to the center of your forehead. He feels your arms circle around his middle and he smiles against your skin.

"If only it were that easy." He pulls back to find you still staring at him, but a smile has since replaced the pout on your lips. "This'll only suck for a little bit, then it'll become our new norm and it'll get easier. I'm just cranky about it now, but I know we'll figure it out."

"We always figure it out." He hums. "Just tell me what you need from me to make it easier on you while I'm away, and I'll do it."

"There's nothing you can do.” You pause. “Except, maybe, right now… a kiss could possibly fix my cranky mood."

He watches your gaze drop from his down to his lips, and then back up, your own lips puckering dramatically. Jolly huffs out a laugh before happily obliging and leans down, lips pressing against yours gently. Nothing too crazy, a sweet peck, because he still hasn't brushed his teeth, and he pulls back seconds later.

"I love you." You say happily, eyes fluttering shut briefly. 

"I love you, too, baby."

"Alright, I’m not allowed to complain for the rest of the day. Let's eat before all my hardwork gets cold." You step on your tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek before pulling away entirely, reaching around him for both of your plates. "And maybe after, shower? Then go grocery shopping? The fridge is running on fumes... I think I used the last of the eggs and we have maybe half a glass of milk left."

He perks up at that, following you over to the chairs that sit at the island in the middle of the kitchen, plucking his plate from your hands before settling down in his chair. "A shower, you say?"

"Of course that's the only thing you heard." You deadpan, but he doesn't miss the smirk on your lips.

"Sorry. You know my brain likes to focus on the important stuff."

"Perv." You tease, but the smirk has finally settled on your lips fully. "Does that sound good, though?"

"Mhm. Sounds good to me, love."

"Oh! And maybe later we could go to the thrift store we wanted to check out last week? Hit up some other shops, too."

"Oooh, yes. That sounds like a perfect plan.”

It's almost as if the worry from earlier is forgotten as your conversation continues through breakfast, and when you're finished putting your dirty dishes away and dragging him up the stairs to go shower (among other things), Jolly knows that the two of you will eventually figure it out. He knows you two can weather any storm, just like you have for the last few years, and that these worries won't mean much to the two of you in the future. He knows wherever he goes, you’ll be right there waiting for him, and he hopes you know he’d do the same for you.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #joakim karlsson fic #joakim karlsson fanfiction #joakim karlsson x reader #mine

[btsbabe7]

A/N: a spontaneous semi-spicy drop of a draft that’s been sitting since April 1st, and now that I just watched Challengers and it’s pretty much on brand with this, that’s the mood I’m in. I also didn’t edit this, but I will post it anyways. 🙃

Words: ~2k, (Mature, 18+)

Pairing: Sebastian x Ominis x reader

Natty and Poppy teamed up to put together a small get-together with certain members of your class; however, words and owls got around, and a party of ten had turned into fifty. Overwhelmed, but determined to make the best of the situation, Natty and Poppy were able to get things under control, from snacks to Butterbeer and entertainment, it turned into a literal house party.

You find yourself sandwiched between the two boys you’d managed to get close to over the past few years, Sebastian and Ominis, both surprisingly enjoying themselves, thanks to your presence.

“Wanna try this jelly bean I made?” Garreth exclaims, scaring you from behind while nudging your arm. He stretches his arm between you and Ominis, out towards the light, where a single jelly bean is hoisted between his fingertips.

“Not tonight, Weasley,” you giggle and shrug his arm away. “I’m not in the mood to have smoke coming from my nostrils or other extremities again.”

“Suite yourself,” he replies with a shrug before trailing off to find another potential victim.

You watch Garreth walk over to another girl, one you know to be from Gryffindor, whose name is completely unknown to you. You watch her giggle as he holds his hand out and offers her a tiny red bean. The one he’d offered you had been yellow, for Hufflepuff. Her polish red nails pinch into his palm as she grabs the bean and pulls it between her lips with a teasing smile.

You see Garreth grin softly, but he turns his attention away quickly, right back to you in fact.

“He fancies you,” Sebastian states as if he’s already right and knows it all. “You have him wrapped around your finger.”

“As if you’d know, Seb. It’s not like you’re consulting with a Gryffindor.”

You hear Ominis’ snort, clearing getting a kick out of it too. You watch Sebastian’s cheeks grow ruby red in annoyance.

“I’m just saying, it’s pretty obvious. Offering you yellow jellybeans as if the rest of us don’t realize what he’s doing. As if we don’t see how he acts around you in The Great Hall, in class... Always showering you with gifts…”

“Well… I do love Garreth’s gifts,” you hum in amusement now that you’re on the subject. “Jellybeans aside, he did have his owl deliver a beautiful bouquet of daises and roses about a week ago.”

“H-he sent you flowers?”

You can hear the disappointment in Seb’s voice. Because why hadn’t he thought to send you flowers? Is the tone that laces his voice and gains a pat on the shoulder from Ominis.

“Even as a Slytherin, this conversation is becoming awfully dreadful. Care for a dance, Y/n?”

“Yeah, let’s dance!”

Ominis smiles deeply and stands to his feet to reach out for your hand. Sebastian tries to slap it away, but you take it before he can.

“Sorry, Seb,” you whisper mockingly.

You and Ominis find a spot in the corner of the room, away from the prying eyes of Sebastian or Garreth, a spot where they’d have to look if they wanted to find you.

“Sebastian‘s right, you know?”

“Oh, not you too, Omi… Garreth and I, were friends.”

“Friends fall in love. We all know that’s not quite uncommon here,” Ominis states, knowing he’s right and that any protest is just an excuse from you at this point. He wraps his arms around your waist tightly, which makes you smile into his shoulder.

“Friends can fall in love, but that doesn’t mean I’ll fall for Garreth. No matter how cute and sweet he is.”

“You find him ‘cute?’”

“Omi!” You giggle loudly and smack his shoulder playfully before falling silent and twirling around with him. It had to be Poppy’s idea to throw a slow song into the mix. “I think Garreth is adorable, admirable even, but he’s not Seb… He’s not you. And I see how miserable Seb is when Garreth is around.”

Ominis smiles, a very telling smile, and you nuzzle against the crook of his neck.

“We can’t invite him. He wouldn’t understand.”

“He may be a Gryffindor; however, that doesn’t make him stupid… or less understanding. The point is freedom from understanding. It’s for fun.”

You know this, but you don’t press further. Omi always wins in the end anyways and if you press it, you’ll find yourself more than sandwiched between your three favorite boys.

He sways you around the livingroom, one hand at the small of your back and the other placed firmly against your mid-back, and your fingers find comfort in the thickness of the sandy blonde hair that sits at the nape of his neck.

“Do you still think about it?”

Your whisper is so low, you almost hoped he hadn’t heard it. You wish you didn’t still feel the electricity coursing through your chest when he touches you, when he’s near. You try to cool it when Sebastian is around, but most of the time it feels as if you’re fighting your own being to keep the peace between friends.

“Well, you certainly made it memorable,” he replies softly and leans his head on your hair like he had the very first time the two of you danced together.

You find yourself pulling back ever so slightly until his gaze meets yours. You find yourself fluttering again, lost in the beauty of his pearlescent eyes, his tiny sprinkled moles, and the soft look of his pink lips.

“Omi…”

His hand pulls your chin upward and he stops mid-turn, your back against the wall and his to the party, concealing you as his your lips find each other’s. You can’t remember the last time you had Ominis’ lips, and his alone, without Sebastian needing you at the same time. It takes your breath away just as it did years ago.

A soft cough breaks your kiss and you and Ominis pull away with reddened cheeks.

“Am I interrupting something?” Poppy laughs sarcastically. “I mean of course I’m not, my best friend would’ve told me if she were dating a Slytherin, or you know, dating in general?”

“Poppy, it’s…”

“Exactly what it looks like,” Ominis breathes. “I asked Y/n to keep it between us. After all, Sebastian has feelings for her too.”

“Ominis…”

“Sebastian has feelings for you? And you’re okay with kissing his best friend in the same room?”

You sigh, rubbing your temples as if everything will soon come apart at the seams. You’d expect this reaction, this level of immaturity from Sebastian, not Ominis. Why would he admit that after you’ve all been hiding it so well?

“He may have feelings, but I’m… I’m in love.”

You choke, dropping your arms from Ominis’ neck in disbelief. If he were in love with you, there would be signs. There were signs, but why would he admit it here?

Poppy notices your distress and pulls you by the hand.

“Gonna borrow her for a moment,” she calls, pulling you further away from the sad looking boy. She pulls you into a room, banishing everyone out before slamming the door behind you both. “Y/n, are you… insane? I mean of course you aren’t, you’re the smartest person I’ve ever known, yet you deliberately got involved with not one, but two Slytherin boys. Nat and I told you to be careful since day one!”

“I know,” you breathe and kick your shoes off before bringing your knees up to your chest on the bottom of her bed. “But it’s Seb and Omi, they’re harmless.”

“Harmless?” She scoffs. “That man just said he betrayed his friend, who has a crush on you. I mean you two were snogging! As if it’s completely normal. The way he said he loved you as if he meant it, as if he’s been completely enraptured by you. How did this even happen?”

“We… spent time together. We’ve been friends for years now.”

Poppy places a hand on her hips, believing only a small portion of what you’re admitting. She takes a deep breath and settles on the bed next to you.

“What’s really going on between you and Ominis, Y/n?”

You deflect from her prying eyes, all your steady thoughts and chaotic ones overlapping and tangling with each other in your mind as you do. You can’t tell a lie without part of the truth. And if you tell the truth, you can’t lie. Not to her.

“Poppy… Ominis and I have been seeing each other.”

“Seeing each other?”

“S-sleeping together,” you mutter softly. Your hands go cold and the coldness travels up your shoulders and washes down your body, all the way to your toes under your striped lime and cherry blossom knitted socks Ominis gifted you with last Christmas.

“Sleeping together? Like in his dorm?”

“No,” you sigh. “Like sleeping together… sex.”

All color in her cheeks flush and she shoots off the bed like a rocket.

“You’re sleeping with Ominis!?”

You can’t bring yourself to repeat it. It’s not like you’re embarrassed, you just knew your girl best friends would react this way. Garreth would react this way or say he somehow already knew. But Sebastian’s always the one you’ve been scared of hurting.

You nod.

“And Sebastian?” She dares to ask with widened eyes.

“I… we... I don’t know Poppy. He and I, we’ve done it once. Two Christmas’ ago when he took me to meet his family in Feldcroft. I told Ominis about Sebastian, but I can’t tell Sebastian about Ominis. It’s happened too many times with him, Sebastian would never forgive us,” you cry.

“Y/n… I, for once don’t know what to say.”

“There’s not much you can say,” Sebastian groans, coming from the connected bathroom with a scowl.

“Why’re you in here!?” Poppy yelps.

“Other restrooms were taken. But that’s beside the point, Y/n, you betrayed me? You and Ominis went behind my back? Didn’t think to tell me, to just let me know? I had my suspicions, but I… I didn’t want to believe that my two best friends would go behind my back.”

“Seb, it’s not like that. It’s—“

“It’s what? You’re in love with him, aren’t you? That’s the only reason you wouldn’t tell me? You couldn’t bear hurting my feelings, so you just hid your own?”

You climb off the bed and walk over to him, tears still in your eyes as Poppy steps out the room to give you two privacy.

“Sebastian, I love you both, truly. But what I feel with Ominis…”

“You don’t feel with me?”

“Seb, what I feel for Ominis, I can’t keep hiding. But I love you too. Since our first night together, I’ve always felt something.”

Sebastian’s features fall as if everything in his life has come to a halt and has never been in his favor. You know this was never fair to him since the beginning, since his interest had been you, but yours had been in his best friend.

“I should’ve known, I tried to ignore the signs,” he sighs and falters a bit.

You reach out for him, wrapping your arms around him as he sobs into the crook of your neck. You want to say words, but they would change nothing. If anything, it’d probably make matters worse for the three of you. You don’t know what admitting your feelings will do to your friendship, but you can’t afford to lose either of them, not after having them this long.

Sebastian trembles softly in your arms as you rub his back.

“I don’t want things to end this way,” he mutters against your wet skin.

“Nothing has to end,” you reply and pull back to look at him through tear blurred eyes. “We don’t have to end anything.”

“But if you’re in love with him, it won’t ever be the same.”

“Sebastian… please.”

He shakes his head as it begins to settle in. As it does, Ominis steps into the room. You hear the lock snap shut and a soft sigh from Sebastian’s lips.

When you glance down at Sebastian, the smirk of his lips is what makes you uneasy. You’ve seen this smirk before, back in the living room of his uncle’s house in Feldcroft.

“Seb—“

You’re cut off by his lips pressing hungrily into yours. His palm massages into your curls and the other into the flesh of your ass under your short dress.

You moan softly, almost forgetting about Ominis who stands sheepishly near the door.

“Care to join?” Sebastian mutters into your neck before licking a stripe up the length.

“Perhaps somewhere more private.”

Sebastian chuckles, ready to take you anywhere as long as he can have you right now in this moment. He kisses you deeply, his own moaning sending vibrations throughout your lips and straight to your core. He’s inching closer to Ominis with each twist of his tongue, and once you’re close enough, you grip his shirt at the shoulder and apparate to the one place where you know you’ll have all the privacy in the world.

Your Room of Requirement.

Feel free to check out my other fanfics :)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

#fanfic #fanfiction #Hogwarts legacy #Sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian x mc #sebastian x ominis #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy smut #seb sallow #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x sebastian sallow #hogwarts imagine #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x mc #hogwarts legacy drabble #ominis gaunt smut #sebastian sallow smut #poppy sweeting #natsai onai #ominis x sebastian #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt

[pepperonidk]

i. ride the sun away || all i could do

“All I could do was love you hard and let you go.” “Go and ride the sun away."

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x f!Reader Summary:  5 years ended with a note on the coffee table. Warnings: angst Word Count: 1227

A/N: Hello! It's been a long while, but this idea has been on my mind for a long time. This musical means a lot to me and so does this fic. I know Jihoon is an asshole in this... sorry lol

join the taglist! back to library || next chapter

The glint of light on the coffee table immediately drew your attention as you walked into the living room.

I called Chan and Seungcheol to help me get the rest of my stuff. I know you wanted to go see another counselor… but I don’t know what the point would be. I know I’m not the only one who’s hurting here, and I don’t see what the hell else we can do.

I don’t think you could see how deep the cracks run, or that I had run out of rope.We could keep fighting each other, keep hurting each other, but I think it’s time to just face it… I couldn’t be what you wanted.All I could do was love you – and god did I love you – love you hard and let you go.

-Jihoon

The weighty cream piece of paper lay on the coffee table and on top of it, Jihoon’s silver wedding band, identical to the one on your own finger. The lights are off, but the room is far from dark. The sun outside is at its zenith and its rays spill into the room and wash the air with enough light to see dust floating in the air. Aside from the note and silver band, glimmering in the light, nothing in the living room had been touched in weeks.

The walls are still covered in pictures of the two of you smiling and you wonder if all the “I love yous” ever meant anything or if the foundation was cracked from the beginning. You’re left with more questions than you’ll ever have answers to and all you can think of is how unfair it is that Jihoon felt that he had the right to decide that things were over.

He was the one keeping secrets. He was the one who moved on before things had even ended. He was convinced that you were the problem. He was the one running away. And you were covered in scars you didn’t earn.

I should be crying, you think to yourself. But you don’t. You haven’t cried in a while, really, because honestly, to say you didn’t see this coming would be a lie.

From the minute you met him five years ago, sitting at a table on the fourth floor of the library and madly scribbling into a worn leather notebook, you knew he was on a one way road to something bigger. You suppose it was only a matter of time that he would outgrow you too.

While nearly every other seat was occupied by students with strewn out textbooks, notebooks, and half-dead laptops cramming for midterms, he was writing a song. School was on the backburner for him (as were most other things), a backup plan in case his dreams were just a little bit too far. Interestingly enough, that was what drew you to him.

“Whatcha writing?” you had asked him, the nervous crack in your voice betraying your casual attempt at conversation. You had noticed him as soon as you sat down to study an hour ago, as he was one of the only people around without a laptop in front of him, but waited until your break to finally let your curiosity get to you. 

It took a few seconds before he realized you were speaking to him and he finally lifted his head to look at you. You couldn’t help but smile as you realized the redness on his cheek from resting it on his fist and the messy state of his dark hair.

“Me?” he questioned as you nodded.

“There’s no one else at the table,” you teased.

“Oh,” he looked around as if he hadn’t given any attention to his surroundings in a while. “I’m working on a song,” he admitted softly.

“Cool,” you replied. “Is it for a class? My friend is in a songwriting class with profe–”

“No,” he interrupted, scribbling something else down before returning his attention to you. “It’s just for fun.”

“Fun, huh?” you began. “You have time for fun in the middle of midterms?”

He let out a chuckle as he shook his head. “I like to think I have my priorities sorted,” he answered. “I’m Jihoon.” He extended his hand out for you to shake.

You looked down at his hand, noting the calluses on his fingertips before taking it in yours and introducing yourself.

“So what about you?” he returned. “What class are you studying for?”

You turned your laptop around to show him the powerpoint you had pulled up from your music and neuroscience class. “I’m actually in a class about how music affects the brain,” you explained.

Jihoon’s face lit up in interest. “Really?” he asked. “How does it affect the brain then?” It had been a while since you were able to gush about your interest in neuroscience.

“Well,” you began, pointing your finger over the brain scans on the slide. “There’s some recent studies showing that music could help treat people with Alzheimer’s and some other neurological issues in elderly people.”

You looked over to Jihoon’s brows furrowed in interest as he nodded along. “That’s pretty cool,” he mused.

“Yeah,” you continued. “I saw a couple of videos that show patients with forms of dementia suddenly remembering complex ballet dances and specific memories just from certain musical cues with synaptic activity in many voxels that–” you cut yourself off, realizing you were going to start rambling.

“That what?” Jihoon looked back up at you, clearly still interested in what you had to say.

“That uh,” you blinked at him. “This isn’t boring you?”

“Huh?” he questioned. “This is really cool,” he laughed. “As a musician, it’s nice to know music is more than just something pretty to listen to. I could be making synapses move and what not. I’ll be making an impact.”

You laughed and nodded your head. “Well, synapses don’t move,” you corrected as Jihoon rolled his eyes before giving you a smile. “But thanks.”

“For what?”

“For listening.”

It’s easy, even now, five years later, to remember the way he looked bathed in spring sunlight and the feeling of his callused hands in yours even if you couldn’t remember the last time he actually touched you. He used to trace circles against your skin, humming melodies into your ear, a soft reminder every time of the day you met.

You look down now at your hand and pull off the band, setting it down next to Jihoon’s rather than picking them both up. They’re small, but something tells you they’d be heavy like lead in your palms. So instead, you opt to leave them there, to join the rest of the abandoned and untouched reminders of a life once shared.

On another day you’d take down the pictures of Jihoon kissing your cheek at the fair, the plaque you jokingly made for him out of macaroni after his first single first charted, and the blanket he bought you from Germany on his first tour. Maybe one day you’ll find a lesson to learn in all of this. But all of that would wait till another day when you can begin to move forward the way Jihoon has. But today, you choose to return to your room, to hold onto some semblance of familiarity, still hurting.

taglist: @sana-is-ms-rmty @yksthings @iamxelia @coveyland @xuimhao

#lee jihoon #woozi #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #woozi scenarios #woozi fluff #lee jihoon x reader #woozi angst #lee jihoon angst #seventeen angst