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majikkulu · 2 days ago

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✮ ˖° ⸜ masterlist ꕤ ･

╭₊˚๑ i'm not a professional astrologer, so they may not resonate with everyone—take them with a grain of salt. consider the planets, degrees, etc! these are just my personal observations and opinions

if you have any astrology post suggestions, feel free to drop them in my ask box, and i’ll make it happen! xoxo.

☁️₊˚੭

⋆⁺₊ your ascendant persona chart (apc) reveals a more intense, refined version of how you present yourself to the world. it dives deeper into your rising sign, showing a clearer expression of who you are. think of it as a magnified first impression, offering more than your natal chart. the apc also explores how you shift in different situations, especially when your natal rising differs from your ascendant persona.

⋆⁺₊ in my opinion, your rising in the natal chart reflects how you see yourself—your inner self and how you outwardly express that. it’s the balance between your personality's essence and your physical appearance. on the other hand, your rising in the ascendant persona chart reveals how others see you, how you come across to them, and how your energy is perceived by the world around you.

⋆⁺₊ take me, for example. in my natal chart, i’ve got gemini rising, so i’m talkative, expressive, and always buzzing with youthful energy. i get bored easily and crave mental stimulation—constantly chasing new knowledge, exploring, analyzing, overthinking. it’s the classic curious gemini vibe. but then, in my ascendant persona chart, capricorn rising takes over, and that’s where things get interesting. now i’m seen as serious, reserved, and cautious—basically the opposite of gemini’s free-spirited nature. my face usually looks serious, and i’ve been called “bitchy” or “mean,” which is far from who i really am. this mix of gemini and capricorn gives me versatility, shifting from playful curiosity to calm maturity depending on the context. in most situations, that capricorn energy takes over. funny enough, people often tell me i ooze with capricorn traits, rather than the gemini ones i feel inside.

✮ ARIES RISING IN APC you’ve got this fearless, bold aura that immediately grabs attention. no hesitation, no fluff—just straight-up honesty and fiery energy. people might find you hot and a little intimidating, especially when you take charge and lead the way. conversation? you’re always the first to spark it. you thrive on competition, and it finds its way to you naturally. your energy is magnetic—too much for some, but others can’t help but be drawn in. rebellious, decisive, and independent, you crave excitement, new experiences, and constant movement. your actions can be impulsive, sometimes reckless, but somehow you always land on your feet. frustration may follow when things don’t move as fast as you'd like, but chaos? you thrive in it. you radiate sex appeal in a way that makes heads turn.

✮ TAURUS RISING IN APC you have that cool, composed vibe that makes everyone feel at ease. people are drawn to your quiet, sensual beauty. you take your time with decisions, always careful and deliberate. there's a calm, almost magnetic confidence about you—it's understated yet undeniably powerful. you don’t show your vulnerabilities easily, creating a sense of independence and self-sufficiency. underneath it all, though, you’re grounded and in tune with what’s real. chaotic spaces drain you, but you bring peace and comfort to others. where aries is all flash, you’re slow, steady, and enduring. your energy is soothing, warm, and draws people in without trying.

✮ GEMINI RISING IN APC curiosity and communication are your driving forces. even if you’re not the most social, people see you as lively and engaging. you’re constantly learning, always on the lookout for new experiences. your energy shifts faster than anyone can keep up, and your quick wit makes you fun to be around. talkative, expressive, and ever-restless, you might leave people guessing who you are. you’re full of surprises—constantly changing, adapting, and keeping things fresh. your style? it mirrors your personality—constantly evolving. you can be self-conscious, worrying about how others see you, but your charm always wins them over.

✮ CANCER RISING IN APC you come off as a gentle, nurturing soul, making others feel safe and comfortable around you. soft-spoken but never weak, you have a quiet strength. mysterious, private, and sometimes moody, you might not reveal everything at first, leaving people curious. you feel deeply, and sometimes, that causes you to retreat when overwhelmed. intimate settings feel like home, but you’re also more social than most realize. there's something magnetic about your warmth and sensitivity, and once people get past the surface, they see your depth. you’re fiercely protective of your loved ones and incredibly loyal, but you need space to recharge.

✮ LEO RISING IN APC you light up the room with a radiant, magnetic energy that can’t be ignored. people are naturally drawn to you—whether it’s your loud, expressive nature or your vibrant charisma. you’re a people person with a heart of gold, always bringing excitement and joy wherever you go. there’s an artistic side to you that shines through, whether it’s in hobbies or raw talent. everyone wants to be around you because you make them feel seen and heard. you lead with warmth, generosity, and an infectious enthusiasm that makes you unforgettable.

✮ VIRGO RISING IN APC you give off an aura of quiet confidence. observant and thoughtful, you pay attention to the tiniest details others miss. reliable and practical, you get things done without needing the spotlight. you’re self-aware and often find yourself analyzing everything in your path. your actions speak louder than words, and though you might seem busy, you’re always on top of everything. stress may come naturally, but so does your knack for solving problems like a detective. competent, responsible, and always prepared, people trust you to handle things when it counts.

✮ LIBRA RISING IN APC people can’t help but be drawn to you with your natural charm and ease in social settings. you know how to make others feel comfortable and welcome, and your sense of justice makes you the one who stands up for what’s right. optimism flows from you, and negativity doesn’t find a home in your vibe. though you radiate kindness, your humor can be surprisingly dark. you’re dramatic in how you express yourself, and you’re always quick to make friends. at first, you give people everything, but it can take time for them to truly get to know the real you.

✮ SCORPIO RISING IN APC there’s a magnetism about you, one that pulls people in or pushes them away. you have a private, mysterious side, and your calm, composed exterior hides a fierce emotional depth. you’re not easy to figure out—your thoughts and feelings stay under lock and key. but those who earn your trust find an incredibly loyal, intense connection. you’re fiercely protective of your boundaries, and people see you as powerful and enigmatic. your intelligence lets you see through people and situations, and your empathy allows you to connect deeply with those close to you. hardships may have shaped you, but you wear them like armor.

✮ SAGITTARIUS RISING IN APC optimistic, adventurous, and always on the lookout for something new, you have an expansive energy that makes you seem larger-than-life. you’re always in search of meaning, diving deep into philosophy or spirituality. straightforward and direct, you speak your mind without hesitation, though it can sometimes come off as blunt. honesty is your signature, and you’re always keeping things light and enjoyable. family matters to you deeply, and you expect the same loyalty and support you give.

✮ CAPRICORN RISING IN APC you might come off as serious or even a bit distant, with a reserved vibe that gives off the impression of someone who's always in work mode. people might mistake you for constantly unhappy, but that’s just the exterior. underneath, you have a quiet strength that draws people in. you’re committed to your passions and interests, taking them seriously and with a focus on stability. you’re selective about the people you let into your life, and even more selective about what you share. your presence can be intimidating, but those who get past your guarded exterior see your reliable, supportive side.

✮ AQUARIUS RISING IN APC you have an unconventional energy that catches people off guard. a little aloof, a little detached, you stand out without even trying. independent and easygoing, you have an unpredictable streak that keeps people guessing. your rebellious side can make you seem a bit dangerous, and you’re always changing in ways others don’t expect. you connect with all kinds of people, from all walks of life, effortlessly. you’re open-minded, curious, and cool—like a more laid-back, intellectual gemini.

✮ PISCES RISING IN APC gentle and empathetic, you have an approachable, almost ethereal vibe. you make people feel understood without saying much. your kindness and compassion are evident in everything you do, even when you might seem a bit distant and disconnected. you’re highly sensitive, and emotions can sometimes overwhelm you, making you retreat to recharge. you live in your own world, but once people get to know you, they see a different side—one that’s outgoing, bubbly, and full of life. you’re sweet, and your energy is almost ghost-like, flowing in and out of spaces, leaving a trail of warmth behind.

#astrology #astro community #astronote #divination #astrology signs #astro notes #astro observations #astro placements #astroblr #astrology readings #birth chart #natal chart #persona chart #astrology observations #astrology community #astrology notes #astrology blog #zodiac signs

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rafesangelita · 23 hours ago

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♡ just dilf!rafe making sure everything is to his liking when his precious little bunny comes home from all of her beauty appointments!

warnings: fluff, bunny being a lil clingy, suggestive language, use of the nickname ‘daddy’ (pls scroll if it’s not for you), heavy petting, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), praise, finger sucking, slight overstimulation

a/n: i recently got all of my beauty appointments done so this felt fitting lol. read more of dilf!rafe x bunny!reader here <3

wc: 1.4k

while rafe never let you step out of the house by yourself, there was very few instances when he did. going out with your girlfriends and paying for all of your appointments was one of those things, and he didn’t mind in the slightest. the day would start very early in the morning so that you’d have enough time to get everything done. rafe would watch you from the front door as you basically hopped down the driveway in excitement before getting into your best friend’s obnoxiously pink car, your lip gloss still sparkling on his lips from when you kissed him before leaving.

maybe it was the father instinct inside of him, but rafe made it a point to always pay for you and your besties meals, the idea of you going hungry or having an empty stomach just not sitting right with him. you and your friends would start the day by knocking out whatever took the longest, so that all of you could breeze through the extra upkeep and still go shopping afterwards. despite rafe tracking your location and checking where you were at religiously, he still wanted you to text him and send him photos and updates throughout the day.

he’d smile down at his phone whenever your contact name, which you came up with by yourself, would pop up on his screen.

[1:15 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i miss you sooo much already daddy. thank you for the food it was yummy <3 me and the girls still have a handful of things to do but i’m hoping to be done soon!!

[2:57 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i think you’re going to reallyyy like the color of my nails!! my toes came out super cute too 🎀

[4:03 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: (1 attached image) look at this pink flatiron at the salon! i need one just like this! pretty pleaseeee!

he’d reply to each message, even going ahead and buying that flatiron with overnight delivery so you could have it in your pretty hands in no time. you two would go on like this until you’d finally send him that ‘on my way!’ text, a relieved sigh falling from his lips. as much as he liked for you to have your girl time, he selfishly wanted to have you all to himself more than anything. rafe had already been anticipating your arrival, your favorite candles already lit up upstairs in his bedroom. it wasn’t long before he heard the faint bump of music outside, your playful yelp sounding from down the driveway as you struggled to carry all of your shopping bags.

rafe was quick to help you out, your best friends teasingly telling him hi as he briefly waved at them before guiding you inside. “oh, i missed you!” you didn’t waste any time in throwing your arms around his neck, the scent of sweet vanilla filling up his senses. you clung to him like a koala, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he made his way upstairs. “yeah? i missed you more.” you breathed him in, smiling softly against his chest as he put your bags down on the chair he had in the corner. “everything go good?” he took a seat at the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the soft globes of your ass.

“mhmm!” you nodded, “i’m happy with how everything came out.” rafe pecked your lips before helping you up on your feet. “let me get a good look at you.” standing up, you couldn’t help but feel shy as he scanned over your figure agonizingly slow. “your hair looks real nice, baby, that style suits you.” your cheeks heated at the simple compliment. “wow look at your lashes, ‘you try out a different lash map?” you gasped softly, hitting his shoulder playfully. “look at you using girly terms!” rafe was bound to learn about the stuff you’d be rambling on and on about, your lashes being one of many things he now knew the intricacies of.

“your eyebrow lady did a real good job, too.” you wiggled your brows suggestively, fluttering your lashes at him while he took your hand in his. “you were right, i absolutely love this color on you,” he took in the pinky nude of your manicure, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “let me see those toes.” you giggled, bringing your foot to his lap as you held onto his arms for leverage. “wow, you got a bow charm?” you smiled down at the sight, “yes! isn’t it so cute? she even put on some rhinestones for free because i’m a regular!” rafe massaged the back of your calf, guiding you back down on the bed.

“damn, bunny, and your skin is so soft, you got that full body wax?” you welcomed him between your thighs, running your freshly manicured nail down the side of his jaw. “yes, i know how much you like it..” he kissed you deeply, his lower half grinding down on where you needed him most. you couldn’t help the whine from leaving your lips, your glazed orbs shining with something mischievous. “do you want to see how that came out, too?” rafe smiled, his fingers already hooking between your skirt and the waistband of your panties. “yeah? you gonna let daddy inspect you?”

once your clothes were off and forgotten about on the floor, rafe took your thighs and spread them open to expose your bare cunt, the look on his face making you take your bottom lip between your teeth. “fuck,” he marveled, “you’re just so pretty, you know that?” you smiled, melting under his gentle touch. he looked up at you as if to ask ‘can i?’ before you nodded. rafe sat back on his heels, stroking your glistening folds as you writhed with desire. “i need to be inside of you so bad..” oh, how bad you needed that too. “rafe, we can’t have sex for at least a full twenty-four hours.” you pouted.

“but we did it last time.” you giggled, shaking your head. “i know, but i’m so sensitive..” rafe sighed, leaning down so he could whisper against your lips. “would a little touching hurt, though?” you gasped when he slipped a digit inside your entrance, his long digit filling you just right. with the pad of his thumb, he began rubbing hard circles on your clit, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “you’re so perfect, always dressing and getting dolled up the way i want you to.” he curled his finger, nudging that soft spot inside of you that made you see stars.

your back arched softly off of the bed, your fingers intertwining with his own. he kept his eyes on your trembling form, your mouth falling open as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “i’m so close, ray..” the man above you lowered his head between your thighs, popping his digits into your mouth so you could taste yourself on his fingers. “so soft and smooth, i could eat this cunt for days.” you cried out loud when you felt his tongue prod at your opening, the tip of his nose finding your sensitive bud. “fuckkk!” you covered your mouth at the slip up, yelping when you felt rafe pinch your inner thigh.

“what have i told you about cussing?” he groaned, pulling away from your soaked pussy before diving back in again, your hands shooting up to cup your tits. rafe watched your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest being a telltale sign that you were going to finish soon. you felt the familar heat begin to simmer in your tummy, your thighs threatening to snap shut as the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every stroke of rafe’s tongue. “oh, my god!” your eyes rolled back when the band in your tummy finally snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pure bliss.

your breath shook as you thrashed against rafe’s mouth, your thighs locking around his head as he pinned you down by your hips. your mouth opened but no sound, except for a pathetic shriek came out, your hands fighting rafe off in an attempt to pull away from him. that only made him grip you tighter, his tongue working relentlessly on your poor cunt. it wasn’t until you tapped out, your nails digging into rafe’s arm before he gave you a final kiss, his gentle hands massaging into the skin of your calves. you whimpered as rafe helped you come down from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your vision hazy.

rafe licked his lips clean, palming at the hard-on in his boxers. “how about just the tip?” all it took was one blissful glance at him through your lashes before he was yanking you towards the edge of his bed by your ankles.

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morganbritton132 · 1 day ago

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This little idea (or this one) hasn’t left me yet so suffer through more of my ramblings.

Look, Eddie was gonna stay away from Steve.

He watched Steve swipe Billy’s keys off a table at lunch and then chuck them into the woods behind the school last week, and decided that he wants no part of that.

If King Steve is testing out teen rebellion, that’s fine but Eddie is eighteen and he doesn’t have rich boy money to bail him out when shit hits the fan. So…

He keeps his distance. He goes to class. He misses three days of school because he’s got laryngitis again. Now he’s sitting in a booth at the diner, miserably eating ice cream and watching Steve Harrington stroll in.

Steve didn’t have to sit with him. The diner was practically empty because it was 10:30AM on a Tuesday when everybody else is at school. So, no. Steve didn’t have to slide in across from him.

“I’m not driving you anywhere.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” Steve says like Eddie was weird for thinking he might. “Got my car back. You sound awful, by the way.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything else because his throat is on fire, but Steve talks. He talks largely about nothing but in that way that you do when you haven’t talked to anybody in a long time which makes no sense. Steve is popular.

Eddie kinda spaces out because he doesn’t care about baseball, but his attention snaps back into focus ten minutes later when a hand clamps down on Steve’s shoulder. Steve is too casual, “Hey, Hop.”

“How’d the appointment go?” Hopper asks in a voice that sounds like it’s physically being restrained. “The MRI, right? Everything come back clear?”

“Clear as crystal, Chief,” Steve replies. “Got the uh, the A-Okay. Back to normal.”

“Uh-huh,” Hopper nods and then yanks Steve up by his shirt. “Then why’d Owens say you were a no show?”

Steve sputters. This is the first time Eddie’s ever seen him lost for words, but it doesn’t last as Steve scoffs, “That’s like a health code violation!”

He doesn’t get to say much else because Hopper pulls him out of the building. Eddie watches them argue in the parking lot and then pays his bill.

He’s leaving when Hopper marches back into the building but is luckily spared a glance from the chief. He’s not sure if Hopper even noticed him sitting there and he is fine with that.

What Eddie should do is get in his van and go home, but instead, he finds himself walking towards where Steve is waiting next to Hopper’s truck. As he gets closer, he sees that Steve is less waiting and more handcuffed to the side mirror so he can’t leave.

Steve rolls his eyes about the whole thing when he notices Eddie and then offers him a cig from the pack he stole out of the truck’s open window. Eddie shakes his head so Steve pockets the pack before asking, “You can pick a lock, right? I’ve seen you do it before.”

Eddie almost asks ‘when?’ but just sighs instead because…yes. He can.

Hopper returns to his truck five minutes later with coffee to an open handcuff dangling from his mirror. No kid in sight.

#list of Eddie’s weaknesses: (1) free food (2) pretty boys and (3) laryngitis #Would Eddie like to not be involved in whatever mental breakdown Steve’s having? yes #Does Eddie let Steve hide in the back of his van until Hopper leaves? also yes #meanwhile Hopper is just trying to make sure this kid’s brain doesn’t leak out his ears and he’s being fucking difficult about it #steve harrington #eddie munson #jim hopper

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buckysfaveplum · 1 day ago

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her weakness

summary: you’re an enhanced individual with strong abilities and one moral code- you only fight with them when your opponent is also enhanced. during the fight with john walker, that code gets broken when bucky is hurt

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: violence, blood, fighting, it’s a fight seen so yea expect things relating to that

a/n: i rewatched tfatws and this fight always makes me so worried for my bbs so yea this was born. I typed it up helllllla quick so I'm sorry if its trash, I'm not too proud of this one idk.

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Your feet followed closely behind Bucky as you approached the warehouse. Your limbs were stiff and your skin clammy. Your hand stayed firmly in Bucky’s grasp as you approached John Walker. Sam had tracked him to a storage warehouse near the square you had just witnessed brutality in.

He murdered him, in cold blood, with Steve’s shield. You couldn’t get the screams of the public out of your head, the sound of the vibranium as it slashed into the flagsmasher’s body. You would’ve thrown up if Bucky hadn’t pushed you behind him. You had seen much worse, much more gruesome violence in your line of work. But something about this was sickening, rotting away in your stomach as you tried to grapple with the truth that the shield your friend once carried with honor and pride was just used by an unhinged soldier who found joy in the worst parts of the job.

Bucky stayed ahead of you, following Sam as they entered the building. Your hand trembled in his vibranium grasp. His thumb gently brushed across the veins and bones of your hand, trying to bring you comfort before the scene he knew was about to play out.

As you walked into the large space, you saw him. He was too composed and stoic for what had just taken place. His tall and slender figure loomed as he casually walked up to you all, barely acknowledging Sam as he tried to get him to listen.

“Walker,” Sam started. The soldier brushed Sam’s stern tone off, hopefully delaying what he knew was coming.

“You guys should see a medic, you don’t look so good,” He said, walking past you.

“Stop, Walker,” Sam took a few steps closer, trying again to get him to focus.

Your jaw tightened as you watched the man pace erratically in front of you. He was muttering quietly before responding as if trying to convince himself what he was saying had any truth.

“What?” He asked, coming closer. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do.”

Your grip on Bucky tightened, sensing Walker’s anger began to boil over. You knew a fight was coming, it always was.

“I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!” Walker shouted, his arms waving now and revealing how off the deep end he had gone.

You knew the moment you saw him in that fight. He stole the serum and took it for himself. This behavior just confirmed it. But the serum only enhanced what was already bubbling under the surface. The same John you meet on the highway. The same John who waltzed into the police station as if he had the authority or right to control Bucky and call him an ‘asset’. It was always there.

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John.”

Bucky’s smooth and deep voice cut through the tension in the room. You felt his grip on your hand squeeze for a moment, making sure you were okay. He could always sense your anxiety in the field. Your powers made keeping your calm difficult. You would never use them in battle unless your opponent was enhanced as well. You were a skilled fighter and agent, you didn’t need them. And it didn’t always seem ethical. But keeping them at bay, in check, could prove difficult- especially in heightened situations such as this.

Walker scoffed at Bucky’s words, dismissing the truth like it was nothing.

“Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well,” Bucky said.

“I’m not like you!” Walker’s voice was full of disgust and resentment. From the moment you met him, you could sense his quiet disdain for your best friend. Looking down his nose at him like he was some scum left over from Steve's life, something he’d always have to deal with. Yet at the same time, resentment. Jealousy over his power, control, and abilities in his enhanced body. As if that’s what made him an excellent fighter. Or a good person.

Your spare hand moved between Bucky’s shoulder blades, giving him a subtle and quiet support as you prepared.

“Listen, it was the heat of the battle, okay?” Sam said, taking a step closer to Walker. That shield danced in your vision, taunting you as he paced back and forth. “If you explain what happened, they may consider your record.”

Walker’s distress spread across his face, his brows furrowing and eyes scrunching as he tussled with Sam’s words.

“We don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” Sam said.

The warehouse went silent as Walker stared at the ground before him. Bucky gave you a soft, tight-lipped smile before begrudgingly dropping your hand. He slowly took a step towards the man, joining Sam.

“John…” Bucky said, calmly.

“You gotta give me the shield, man,” Sam said.

That did it. You could feel the room shift that second.

A disturbing serene aura washed over Walker at that moment. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to you all. His eyes were dark, lacking a certain warmth and compassion you had grown so used to seeing through that blue cowl. A certain warmth that left when he hung up the shield.

“Oh…. so that’s what this is,” Walker said. “You almost got me.”

You could see his grip on the shield tighten, the leather straps twisting between his fingers.

“You made a mistake,” Sam said.

You slowly took a step forward, your hands flexing as you prepared for what was to come. Walker finally turned his gaze to you. His eyes roamed you up and down. You could’ve sworn you saw Bucky’s jaw clench, that familiar muscle tightening in distress. Walker smirked at you before glancing at Bucky. He could read the protectiveness radiating off of your supersoldier.

“You don’t wanna do this,” Walker said to him.

Bucky didn’t meet his gaze. His fists balled at his side, practically shaking with anger. He never took pleasure in a fight, every punch or kick felt like a necessity rather than enjoyment. But he couldn’t deny how much he desired to rip that shield from his grimy hands.

“Yeah we do,” Bucky said.

Sam lurched forward first, Bucky soon following suit. Your feet moved quickly, moving behind Walker as your friends attacked from the front. The man moved with a speed you had yet to see from him, a brute force you could only get from the serum.

With a harsh kick, Walker sent Sam flying away, leaving you and Bucky alone. You tried to knock Walker down from the back as Bucky grappled with the shield. As you sent a harsh kick into the back of Walker’s knees, he spun quickly and sent a jab into Bucky’s gut sending him backward in pain and knocking him off balance. Before you could back him up, Walker slammed a harsh punch into Bucky’s jaw. Your heart raced and your hands shook as you watched him drop to the ground. You sprung into action, pulling the shield back in your hands and keeping Walker from smashing it into Bucky’s face. Sam leaped in, kicking the shield up and drawing attention to him.

You slammed a kick into Walker’s back, sending him stumbling forward as Sam slashed at him with his wings. Bucky leaped up, his arm aiming to come down on the faux Captain America’s back hard but was ultimately blocked by the shield.

You were growing frustrated. Walker never packed this much of a punch. The serum raged through his veins, lacing each kick and swing of the shield with force and hate. As you and Sam continued to trade blocks at Walker, Bucky attempted to pull him down but was quickly met with the shield swinging into the side of his face. Your legs shook. The longer this dragged out the more difficult you find keeping your emotions in check. The longer you watched your favorite person in the world become decorated with blood and bruises, the more your ethical code began to look like a suggestion. Walker deserved a swift blast to the face and more. But you held off.

Walker slammed the shield into Sam’s back, sending him down. As your two friends recovered briefly, it was just you and him. You surged forward at the man, dodging as he swung at you. Being smaller than the two Avengers alongside you made it much easier to evade Walker’s sloppy attacks. You sent a firm kick into his chest followed by an uppercut into his chin. As he spun and tumbled, Bucky was back on his feet and meeting Walker with punches. Bucky’s attacks quickly led the pair into a tight spot, backing Walker up into a heavy piece of machinery. The pair spun in circles over the shield, yanking the vibranium disc back and forth and trading beatings in between. Sam quickly followed you over, diving in for aid, but quickly was sent flying back by Walker’s attacks. His body slammed to the ground with a grunt.

While Bucky worked, you glanced at Sam. He pushed himself to his feet slowly, preparing to dive back into the fight. In your moment of distraction, the fear and care for your dear friend overriding your common sense to keep fighting, you heard Walker’s voice pull you back. Bucky was trapped between the shield and a machine. You rushed over to help but it was far too late.

“Why are you making me do this?!” Before you could register what Walker was saying, you watched as Bucky went flying.

Walker’s forceful swing of the shield sent him hurtling across the warehouse. Your body froze as if someone had filled your veins with cement. The dramatic scene Walker had created came to an end with Bucky’s body smashing into an electrified pole and crashing to the ground. The might of his impact snapped the pole in the middle, sparks cascaded from the steel and flooded onto the floors; leading your eyes to Bucky.

“Bucky!” You screamed.

His body lay limp and splayed out on the cold dirty floors. His face was smushed into the cement. His limbs didn’t dare to move. Except for his vibranium arm, which twitched and spasmed under his body; blue and white sparks burst out from the plates adding to the horror.

Your breaths were heavy and shaky, your hands trembled at your sides as the vibrating blue of your powers began to spark at your fingertips; mirroring the sight of your best friend’s arm. The room was spinning, at least that’s what made sense to you. Your balance was unstable, your knees threatening to buckle at any moment. You turned to spare a look at Sam, begging him for permission. But he was already back on his feet and rushing towards Walker.

“Go!” He shouted.

You had never been faster. Your abilities never gave you the gift of flight but in that moment they very well could have. Your legs became weak and your steps messy as you neared Bucky. You crashed to your knees beside him, pain radiated up your thighs from the impact but you couldn’t care. It couldn’t be worse than the expanding tight pain in your chest as you struggled to breathe.

Your hands quivered as they hovered over his body. With him lying so still you could finally take in the damage Walker had done to his face. Blood was splattered all over, deep purple and blue hues bloomed across his cheekbones, and a nasty split had opened on his lip. Worst of all, his nose was broken.

The sparks continued to burst from the plates of his arm, his hand jerking and spasming with an unsettling sound of grinding metal. Quickly, you placed your hands firmly on the vibranium. A deep blue beamed from under your palms, cascading the metallic golds and blacks of his arm in your glow. The excess electricity from the crash moved in waves through the arm up into your hands. You focused as all the veins in your body became electrified, an aqua glow shone through your skin as the energy you. Your once y/e/c eyes were quickly overtaken, the cool energy overriding your iris’ and leaving an intense indigo shine. With a sharp gasp and breath, you let go. His arm had stopped moving, now lying as still and motionless as he did.

“Bucky,” you said, giving his damaged body a soft shake. “Bucky, wake up.”

He didn’t move, his face slack and limps heavy as you struggled to turn him to his back and off of his arm. Your hands rushed to his face, cupping his cheeks and holding him close as if you could shield him from more of John Walker’s savagery. If someone had the power to take your abilities and trade them for the ability to heal, you’d offer them anything they wished just for the potential to spare Bucky from his pain even for a moment.

“Buck… come on wake up,” the fresh blood from his injuries spilled into your fingertips, the crimson caked into your cuticles and threatened not to leave.

“Plum, please,” His body twitched; your lungs finally filled with air.

His breaths were labored but there, his chest rattled as he sucked in much-needed air. Your fingers moved to his neck, their shuddering finally stilling as you felt his pulse return to a firm and strong pattern.

The sounds of Sam’s grunts and Walker’s cries swiftly pulled your attention back to your friend. He was up in the air, a long metal cord pulling on the shield and attempting to free it from Walker’s venomous grasp. To no avail, as soon Sam was flung back to the floor and across the room. The shield clattered to the ground, equally laid between the two men. The smug and determined look on Walker’s face enraged you, the blue glow returning to your eyes. Sam glanced over at you before rushing for the shield. He needed you.

You turned back to Bucky, still unresponsive to your touches and voice. He was breathing, his pulse steady. Taking in the broken state of his body, his face battered and bloodied, you couldn’t hold back your rage any longer.

It was as if something had possessed you. Gently, you laid Bucky back to the ground, pressing a trembling kiss to his forehead.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, your voice monotone yet determined. The expressions of concern, fear, and horror that had played upon your face just moments ago were now gone. You were cold and still, as you rose to your feet and walked over to the two men fighting behind you.

Before Walker could grab the shield, a harsh blast of blue energy sent him flying back in the opposite direction. The man was studded, confused by how he could have been knocked down. He looked up to see you rushing towards him. You were steady in your movement, not running but with each step winding up for the next blow. Your hands were baked in a fierce glow of aqua as you channeled more energy through your fingertips.

Walker scrambled to his feet, preparing for the offense. Before he could even take a step he was back on the ground with another blast from you. A loud cry fell from your lips as you slammed him down with force from your power. As you ran up to Walker, he quickly sent a firm hit to your jaw. You stumbled back, regaining your vision to see him coming at you. You jumped up, knees to your chest and feet pressing on his as you blasted him once again.

He was on the ground with you towering over him. His face was coated in shades of black and blue, mirroring the face you were trembling over just seconds ago. Good, he deserved that and more.

You blasted him again as he struggled to crawl away. You followed him, hot on his trail as energy overflowed from your hands. The shield was long forgotten by you, only driven by your need for revenge. Bucky couldn’t even answer you, couldn’t move. He needed to pay.

Walker’s body slammed back into machinery as you surged more energy at him. He

was done, hands shaking above him as he prepared for your next blow.

“We’re better than this right? Captain America doesn’t do this,” Walker said through his split lip and shaking jaw.

You scoffed; if only he had thought that way an hour ago. You wouldn’t be here. Bucky would be okay.

“Good thing I’m not Captain America,” you said. Walker shielded his face as you wound up your aim. Energy radiated from your fist up your forearm as you pulled it back to deliver one last shot.

“Y/n, stop!” Sam shouted.

Your blast was halted by a firm hand on your upper arm. You recognized the stillness and coolness that held onto your body. Turning you saw Bucky behind you. He was shaking as he stood, breaths labored and heavy, but there he was. Sam ran up behind the two of you, shield in hand as he looked at you. But all you could focus on was Bucky.

Bucky stepped forward, shaking his head softly as he lowered your arm.

“This isn’t you, you don’t do this,” he said. Your nostrils flared as you breathed heavily, struggling to reel your rage back in. You glanced back at Walker who lay on the ground, glaring at you smugly. Your eyes shone brighter, your fists clenching as the glow intensified.

“Hey,” Bucky said, taking your face and turning you to look back at him. “You’re not him.”

The energy overtaking your body began to fade as you relaxed under his firm touch. The uncontrollable blue glow began to fade back into your body, leaving you panting as you tried to calm your emotions. Bucky stood before you, vibranium hand stroking your own.

“You’re okay,” you said.

“I’m okay. Hey, hey, I’m okay. It’s over,” he said, pulling you away from the scene you had created. He walked you slowly back towards Sam, you shook in his grasp. Walker struggled to stand as he watched the three of you leave. The shield taunted him as it hung off of Sam’s arm, finally back with its true owner. The Captain America.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking at Sam. “I just….” you glanced at Bucky, once again seeing the battering of his beautiful face. Your throat swelled as you lost your words, choking on your fear.

“We got it back,” Sam said, giving your shoulder a firm squeeze before heading out of the building. His limp as he walked didn’t escape you.

Bucky gripped your hand tightly, pulling you with him as he walked. He didn’t make it far before his knees began to buckle, his body slipping as he fell. You were at his side in a heartbeat, arm hauling him back up beside you; refusing to let his body crash to the filthy ground again.

“Hey, hold onto me,” you said. You wrapped his arm around your shoulder and his other gripped at your waist as you began to pull him from the warehouse, his feet limping and tripping as he struggled to walk. Walker’s body began to fade in the distance as you left.

“Why did you do that, doll?” Bucky asked as you walked, his voice slurred and low. Each wince and suck of breath stabbed at your side like a pecking bird, refusing to let your wound heal.

“I don’t know, I’ve never done that. I….” you paused, stopping your feet as you gave him a moment to catch his breath. “When I saw you hit that pole, I lost it.”

“I’m okay, Y/n,” he said, yet his words seemed to hold no weight as he struggled to stay upright at your side.

“Your arm was sparking, Bucky. You weren’t moving. I-I thought that you…” You couldn’t finish, gripping him tighter as your voice shook. As if letting him go would give the world a chance to tear him from you once again. Your fingertips dug into his tact suit, determined to embed yourself in him.

“Hey, babydoll,” he said, hoisting himself up just enough to take your face in his hands. He swayed on his feet as he stood, intent on holding you close as he spoke. Your hands held him steady at his side.

“I’m here, I’ll always be here. But no matter what happens to me, I don’t want you to lose yourself,” he said, stroking your cheek. “I can’t have that.”

“I don’t wanna lose you,” you said.

“You won’t. I’m right here, I’m always coming back to you.”

You nodded softly as you rested your head on his chest. His hands moved to your hair as he held you close. Your hands wound around his center, keeping him safe in your arms. As long as you were around, no one would take him.

“You’re so good, you’re so special, Y/n. You need to be strong, even if I get hurt. You can’t drop your morals for me. They mean too much to you,” he said.

“I think you may be my weakness,” you said, your voice muffled in his chest. He tucked himself closer into you at your words, his head resting upon yours. His lips pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head.

“You’ve always been mine,” he said softly.

---

taglist:

(comment to join <3)

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #fanfic #tfatws #marvel #fanfiction

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endstar · 2 days ago

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Icarus blinks confused on what the fuck is happening. Soon beirce enters and he scurry’s back to his bed.

She hisses at him harshly.

🕯️"your supposed to be in bed."🕯️

Icarus flinches a bit and looks at his feet.

🕯️"I know, I know… I was just worried… you’ve been gone days and- I was scared the demons-"🕯️

She cuts him off.

🕯️"exactly why you are to stay here, unless I tell you to leave."🕯️

Icarus nods slowly… looking at his feet before mumbling.

Beirce dumbs some stuff on a table, jewels, knifes and supplies. She starts to talk.

🕯️"we’re going after the last ring piece."🕯️

She says coldly.. Icarus seems a little panicked by the statement. His eyes widen and he stammers a bit.

🕯️"a-already?… right after that… weather event..? We’re-we’re staving lady beirce! I feel like that should be- the- the last thing we need! People are sick, and- and dying!"🕯️

🕯️"…something happened with the people. They are okay now….—"🕯️

She lowers her hood, revealing her scared face, and snake like eyes. The scar is an ugly one. Looks like a sword and opened up the side of her lip permanently, revealing teeth.

🕯️"—I need to figure out who helped the people after this… I assumed it to be you… disobeying me to not go outside while I’m gone… but…"🕯️

She goes up to him and grabs his face. The poor guy trembles with fear as her clawed tails grip his face tightly.

🕯️"…but you wouldn’t do that… and have the courage to try to deceive me from it… right? You aren’t that idiotic, that you think I wouldn’t notice?"🕯️

Doug is whimpers.

🕯️"n-no! No-no-no ma’am! I didn’t! I swear on my soul! I- I can barely use my magic! You know that! It’s fading by the day, and you forbidden me from using it! Please, I swear!"🕯️

He pleads with pure terror. The bierces eyes narrow, the green in them nearly glowing in the dark… she the lifts her other hand to his face… he winces a bit before she… slowly combs through his hair with her long nails.

🕯️"….good… you know how I feel about those who go against my wishes, Doug… and I’ve always favoured you… so i would be left.. heartbroken, if you did lie… you know being in here is for your own good…"🕯️ she smiles slightly 🕯️"—but I suppose if you did help the people… I wouldn’t mind.. and it doesn’t make sense to lie about such a thing…"🕯️

She lets go, and gently pats down his hair. He relaxes slowly.

🕯️"fingering out whoever did that will be solved another day… now. Get ready. We make for the castle at dawn."🕯️

She gets up, and leaves once more…Icarus lets out the breath he was holding as a sigh of relief… he slowly gets ready for whatever beirce is planning without hesitation or thought.

The multiverse is full of infinite possibilities...

Most worlds tend to connect through similar builds. Through stories, people, themes...

It's no surprise seeing a stranger to the multiverse. What IS surprising, however, was his condition. Covered in deep wounds, limbs twisted and torn, and he appeared to be drowning in his own blood by the time he was found. Holy weapons were embedded in his skin, and the flesh sizzled liked bacon around it.

He had red skin, gray hooves, horns that looked far too round and circular to have normally grown out of his head. His long pointed tail is covered in hand prints, and there are bones exposed out of his back. He lays face first in a pool of his own boiling blood, barely breathing or moving.

@ask-underfazverse

Cry’s come from the mass amounts of strangers, many just back away to cowedly to do anything, but a few step up, and begin to heal him. Mainly the younger, less evil Malak’s, a few Doug’s that are just simply concerned, and only one Bierce.

Dream Malak very hurriedly takes him to his hospital, with the help of the others.

#I got carried away

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n1daehodefender · 3 days ago

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can you write headcanons with your usual characters (dae-ho, thanos, etc) were they find reader crying in like the bedroom or smtg and they just got home so they don't know what happened, but still kinda comfort reader the best they cant (idk if this makes sense)

Their reactions to finding you crying

Pairing: kang dae ho, Nam gyu, thanos (Su Bong) Separately!

Warnings: Warnings: Emotional comfort, mentions of crying and emotional distress, gentle themes of reassurance.

A/N: requests are open

Kang Dae-Ho

Dae-ho had been looking forward to seeing you all day. Work was exhausting, and all he wanted was to relax with you, maybe joke around about something silly or talk about your day. But the moment he walks through the door and hears the faint sound of muffled crying coming from the bedroom, his heart drops. His playful energy vanishes, replaced by deep concern.

He doesn’t barge in immediately. Instead, he pauses to collect himself, not wanting to startle or overwhelm you. Quietly, he knocks on the doorframe, his soft, “Hey, are you okay?” breaking the silence. When you don’t respond right away, he carefully opens the door to find you curled up on the bed, tears staining your cheeks. The sight of you like this pulls at his heartstrings, and any jokes he might’ve planned to crack to lighten the mood are completely forgotten.

Dae-ho moves slowly, not wanting to make you feel pressured to explain yourself. He sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to gently brush a stray tear from your cheek. His voice is soft, filled with that golden retriever-like warmth you’ve come to love.

“I’m here, okay? You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

He gives you space to decide whether you want to lean into him or not, but when you do, his arms wrap around you like a safe cocoon.

Dae-ho’s hugs are everything: firm yet gentle, warm and grounding. He strokes your hair with one hand while the other rubs soothing circles on your back. Occasionally, he presses a light kiss to the top of your head. His presence is steady, reminding you that you’re not alone.

He doesn’t push you to explain, though it’s clear he’s worried. Instead, he keeps his words gentle and encouraging:

“You don’t have to say anything right now. Just know that whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.”

His tone is earnest, his voice trembling slightly from how much he hates seeing you hurt.

Once your tears subside, Dae-ho suggests small things to make you feel better, like getting some fresh air, eating something comforting, or just lying together for a while. He stays with you the entire time, not leaving your side even for a second. If you eventually open up about why you were crying, he listens without judgment, offering reassurance and positivity where he can.

Nam Gyu

Nam Gyu doesn’t expect to find you upset when he gets home. He’s usually the one you greet with a smile or a sarcastic comment, so the quiet, heavy atmosphere hits him immediately. He hears faint sniffles coming from the bedroom, and his mind races with worry.

The second he sees you crying, his heart clenches painfully. He doesn’t hesitate to approach, his strides purposeful but not rushed. Kneeling in front of you, he cups your face gently, his eyes scanning your expression for any signs of what might’ve happened.

“Hey, what’s going on? Did something happen? Who do I need to deal with?”

His tone is serious, laced with protectiveness, but his touch is gentle.

Nam Gyu hates seeing you cry and will do everything in his power to make it stop—not because he’s uncomfortable with your emotions, but because it physically hurts him to see you in pain. If you don’t want to talk about it, he respects that, but he’ll still hover protectively, sitting close to you and holding your hand. If you lean into him, he wraps you in his arms tightly, his chin resting on top of your head as he murmurs reassurances.

“It’s okay, babe. I’ve got you. Whatever it is, you’re not alone in this.”

His hugs are firm and grounding, making you feel like nothing in the world could touch you as long as he’s there. He rubs your back and strokes your hair, occasionally tilting your chin up to wipe away tears with his thumbs.

Though Nam Gyu isn’t the most emotionally expressive person, he steps up when you need him. His words are straightforward but heartfelt, and he’s willing to listen for as long as you need, his attention completely focused on you.

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

If you eventually explain, he listens intently, his jaw tightening if it’s something that upset or hurt you. You can see the barely restrained protectiveness in his expression.

Nam Gyu will insist on taking care of you afterward, whether that means cooking your favorite meal, running a bath, or just lying down with you. He’s not the type to leave you alone, ensuring you feel safe and loved before he considers relaxing himself.

Thanos (Su-bong)

Su-bong is in a great mood as he walks in the door, ready to tell you about something funny that happened during his day. But the moment he hears soft sobbing coming from the bedroom, his mood shifts entirely. His heart aches at the sound, and he immediately heads toward you, his earlier excitement forgotten.

When he sees you crying, his playful demeanor is replaced by quiet concern. He kneels beside the bed, his brow furrowed in worry as he gently calls your name.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me, love.”

Though his instinct is to crack a joke to cheer you up, he knows better than to do that right away. Instead, he focuses on being present for you, letting you feel whatever you need to feel.

Su-bong’s approach is a mix of gentle affection and lighthearted attempts to make you smile. He’ll wrap you in a warm hug, one hand stroking your back while the other holds your hand. If you don’t pull away, he presses a soft kiss to your temple and whispers:

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone.”

If you’re unresponsive, he doesn’t push but stays close, his presence steady and reassuring.

He’s incredibly tactile, holding you close and wiping away your tears with the sleeve of his shirt (despite you protesting that he’ll ruin it). His touch is gentle, and his hugs feel safe and secure.

Su-bong’s words are soft and soothing, filled with unconditional love and support. If you eventually share what’s wrong, he listens attentively, nodding along and offering comforting words when needed. He’s also not afraid to be vulnerable with you, admitting that it hurts him to see you cry.

“You don’t have to explain, but if you ever want to, I’ll be here, okay?”

Once you start to feel better, Su-bong’s playful side re-emerges. He might crack a light joke or do something silly to make you smile, but he’ll also make sure you’re comfortable—bringing you snacks, cuddling with you, or watching something lighthearted to lift your spirits.

#kang dae ho #squid game #kang dae ho x reader #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game 2 x reader #nam gyu x reader #nam gyu squid game #nam gyu #thanos x reader #thanos squid game #thanos #su bong x reader

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haikyuubby · 3 days ago

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𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐟

❀ - fluff, female reader

lil drabble abt bakugo dating a curly haired girl, just because :3

“what do you mean it takes over an hour for you to do your hair?!” katsuki asks, concern lacing his voice.

“katsuki, with curls like these did you really expect otherwise?” i respond while taking gel through my hair.

katsuki and i planned to go out later today, but he came to my house a little earlier than i expected him to.

therefore, i was still getting ready for our date when he showed up.

right now, i was finishing up my hair, adding the finishing touches to my wash and go hair routine.

the bathroom was now crowded with smells of clean vanilla and fruit due to the hair products that i used, a smell that i knew katsuki loved.

“i mean, i guess that makes sense, but still…you don’t have to spend so much time on your hair just to go out with me” he says.

i roll my eyes at his statement, that was such a boyish thing to say.

“you’re such a boy, you just don’t get it.” i respond, walking out of my bathroom.

he trails behind me, yapping both some “what you mean i don’t understand?! i take care of myself!”

as we’re making our way out of the house, he stops me.

“listen, what i meant was that i’d go out with you no matter how you look, i think you always look great so…”

i smile at his statement, warmth flushing my cheeks.

“thank you, katsuki.” i say as i get up on my tip toes to place a kiss on his cheek.

his face softens at this action.

“no, give me a real kiss.” katsuki demands.

he leans down and grabs my face, gently shoving his lips against mine.

katsuki knew to not touch my head after i did my hair routine.

he knew that if he were to grab or touch my hair while it was freshly washed and styled, that it would soon become frizzy after it dries.

and to avoid hearing my complaints about my hair not looking perfect, he complied with the “no touching my hair right after the routine” rule.

as we’re kissing, his tongue pokes the inside of my mouth, making me honestly crave more.

katsuki then pulls away, reminding me that we’re about to go out on a date.

i go and grab my purse, but i’m immediately stopped by him.

“you serious, y/n? you know i always pay when we go out, now let’s go.”

#katsuki bakugo headcannons #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo x female reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo imagine #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader fluff #mha oneshots #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha x reader #katsuki x reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia back

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dulcescorderitas · 2 days ago

Text

parings: married!deanwinchester x married!reader

synopsis: life married to dean

warnings: no smut

the nights always ended the same way, no matter how long he’d been gone. his hands, calloused from gripping the wheel of the Impala, always found their way to the curve of your waist, pulling you close, grounding himself in your warmth. it was like he was making sure you were still there, flesh and blood and not some fleeting dream he could lose again.

when dean came home, it was like the house breathed with him. the soft creak of the door, his boots thudding heavily on the wooden floors, the rustling as he shrugged off his jacket. it was all the noise of a man who fought his way back to you, every damn time. sometimes it was days, sometimes weeks, but every return felt like the first, like he’d fought a hundred battles just to hold you again.

“you up?” his voice broke the stillness, low and familiar, a sound you’d missed more than you could admit. you stepped out of the kitchen, where you’d been waiting, and met him halfway, your arms wrapping around his neck as his settled on your waist.

“i’m always up when you’re coming home,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. he held you tighter, a sigh of relief escaping him as he buried his face in your neck, just breathing you in.

sam’s footsteps echoed lightly behind him, and you glanced over dean’s shoulder. “sam, you know where everything is. get some rest.”

“thanks,” sam replied, offering you a small smile before disappearing into the guest bedroom.

the door clicked shut, leaving you and dean alone in the quiet house. his hands slid down to your hips, his thumbs brushing over the fabric of your shirt. “missed you,” he whispered.

“missed you too.” your fingers traced the edge of his jaw, noting the rough stubble that had grown since you last saw him. “come on, you look beat.”

he didn’t argue, letting you lead him to the bedroom. the familiar sights of your shared space surrounded you—the nightstand with his gun and knife, the salt lines carefully laid at every entry point. it was a fortress, one you both had built together, knowing the dangers that lurked just outside those walls.

he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you to stand between his knees. his eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but there was something else there too—a quiet gratitude, a sense of peace. “the road was rough,” he admitted softly. “but this… being here with you… makes it worth it.”

you cupped his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs along his cheekbones. “you’re home now. that’s all that matters.”

he nodded, pulling you down into his lap, holding you close. the weight of him, the steady beat of his heart under your palm, it all felt like home. three times a week, if you were lucky, he’d be here, his presence filling the space, his warmth seeping into you. and in those moments, the worry and the fear melted away, leaving just the two of you.

sometimes, you wished he would stay longer. that the job wouldn’t pull him away so often. that there’d be more mornings where you could wake up to the sight of him, hair tousled, eyes half-lidded with sleep, his lips curved into a lazy smile that was just for you. mornings where his hands would roam, slow and deliberate, exploring every inch of you as if he had all the time in the world. mornings where he’d whisper your name like a prayer, his lips tracing the line of your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin.

“we’ll have more mornings,” he said softly, as if reading your mind. his lips brushed against your temple, his voice a comforting rumble. “i promise.”

it wasn’t just about the sex, though God, when dean touched you, it was like the world stopped spinning. his fingers, rough and sure, knew exactly how to unravel you, to make you shudder and cling to him in the dark. but it was the way he looked at you after, like you were the only thing anchoring him to this world, that made your chest ache with something fierce and unrelenting.

you were his home. his sanctuary. and even though you wished he could be there more, you never doubted for a second that he was yours, fully and completely. every kiss, every touch, every whispered word in the dead of night was a promise—a promise that no matter how far he wandered, he’d always find his way back to you.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis

#lamy garden #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n

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s4kura-tr3 · 3 days ago

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Hiya! Back, back again >:)

I was thinking about JJK men with an anxious reader? (I’ve personally been super anxious cause I’ve been sick and get SUPER anxious while I’m idle, especially with the ADHD simply- not letting me, so I’ve been thinking about it :P)

If you do this, thanks so much!! If you don’t, that’s totally cool too!! Have a fantastic day/night!! :D <3

(Sorry for the slow post, school has been kicking my butt..🥲)

Gojo satoru — You sat at the corner of the café, the soft hum of conversations and clinking coffee cups around you doing little to quiet the buzzing thoughts in your head. Your fingers tapped against the ceramic of your untouched drink, and your leg bounced under the table as your eyes darted around the room.

“Are you waiting for someone?” a familiar, cheerful voice chirped from above you.

Your head snapped up, startled. There he was—Gojo Satoru, all six feet three inches of him, leaning over the back of the chair across from you, his trademark sunglasses sliding slightly down his nose to reveal his brilliant blue eyes.

“I—I didn’t think you’d come,” you stammered, your cheeks flushing.

“Didn’t think I’d come? I wouldn’t miss a date with you for the world!” He grinned, sitting down without invitation. “Though, I’m offended you underestimated my charm.”

His playful teasing made you smile, even as your heart continued its anxious rhythm. “I-I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought…maybe you’d have something better to do.”

Gojo’s expression softened, his usually smug demeanor replaced with something more sincere. He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward, close enough that you could see the faint scar just beneath his glasses.

“Better than hanging out with the most captivating person in this city? Nope,” he said, his voice gentle now. “Besides, I promised you last time that I’d be here. I don’t break promises, you know.”

You swallowed hard, glancing down at your cup. “I just…sometimes I think you’ll realize I’m not worth it. I’m not like you, Satoru. I’m not confident or fearless. I overthink everything, and sometimes I can’t even breathe because it all feels like too much.”

Gojo’s hand reached out across the table, covering yours. His touch was warm, grounding. “Hey,” he said softly, “first of all, you’re allowed to feel like that. Life can be overwhelming, and I get it. But don’t ever think you’re not worth my time. You’re worth everything, okay?”

Your eyes widened, and he continued, his thumb lightly brushing the back of your hand. “You don’t have to be like me. You don’t have to be anyone but yourself. And if your brain gets too loud sometimes, that’s okay. I’ve got the loudest brain ever, so I know how it feels.” He grinned, trying to ease the tension.

A small laugh escaped you, and he beamed. “See? There’s that smile. You’re braver than you think, you know. Just showing up here today? That takes guts. And lucky for you, you’ve got me to help when things feel heavy. You don’t have to do it alone.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, chasing away some of the weight in your chest. You let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Thank you, Satoru.”

“Anytime,” he said, leaning back in his chair. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added, “Now, let’s get some cake. You can’t be anxious when there’s cake. It’s scientifically impossible.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin spreading across your face. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

“For you? Always.”

Geto Suguru — The evening was quiet, the kind of stillness that made your thoughts louder than you wanted them to be. You sat on the couch in your small apartment, knees pulled to your chest as your mind raced with worries—about work, about people, about things that didn’t even make sense anymore.

The knock on your door startled you, and you hesitated before standing. You didn’t need to check to know who it was. He always had this perfect timing, as if he could sense when you needed him most.

When you opened the door, there he stood: Geto Suguru, dressed in his usual black robe-like outfit, his long dark hair tied neatly behind him. He held a small bag in one hand and gave you a gentle smile.

“I figured you hadn’t eaten yet,” he said softly, stepping inside as you moved aside. “So I brought your favorite.”

You blinked at him, warmth blooming in your chest despite the anxious haze clouding your thoughts. “You didn’t have to—”

“Shh.” He held up a finger, his expression teasing but kind. “I wanted to. Sit down, and I’ll set it up for you.”

You followed his instructions without protest, sinking back onto the couch as Geto moved around the kitchen like he’d been there a thousand times before. The smell of the food he brought began to fill the space, grounding you in the present.

When he finally joined you, he placed the neatly arranged meal on the coffee table, but his focus remained on you. “Rough day?” he asked, his voice as calm as always.

You bit your lip, your hands twisting in your lap. “It’s just…everything. I feel like I can’t keep up, like I’m always messing something up, and it just won’t stop.”

Geto’s brows furrowed slightly, but his expression wasn’t pitying—it was understanding. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before letting his hand rest lightly on your shoulder.

“I know how that feels,” he said quietly. “When it feels like the world is closing in, and you can’t catch your breath. It’s exhausting, isn’t it?”

You nodded, surprised at how easily he seemed to understand.

“But,” he continued, his thumb tracing comforting circles against your shoulder, “you don’t have to face it all at once. It’s okay to take things slow. One step at a time, one thought at a time. And if it gets too overwhelming, you’ve got me. I’ll carry as much as I can for you.

Tears prickled at your eyes, but you blinked them away. “Why are you so nice to me?”

He chuckled, leaning back slightly. “Because you’re important to me, that’s why. I care about you. And I’ll do whatever I can to remind you that you’re not alone, even when your mind tries to tell you otherwise.”

You let out a shaky breath, the weight on your chest easing just a little. “Thank you, Suguru. For being here.”

“Always,” he said with a soft smile. Then, his eyes lit with a playful glint as he gestured toward the food. “Now eat before I have to feed you myself.”

You laughed, the sound surprising even you. As the two of you settled into a comfortable rhythm—him making jokes to distract you and you letting yourself be pulled into the warmth of his presence—you realized just how much lighter the room felt with him there.

Nanami kento — The soft click of the front door closing echoed through the quiet apartment. You sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. The weight in your chest felt immovable, like no amount of deep breaths or distractions could lift it.

“(Y/N), I’m home,” Nanami’s steady voice called from the entryway. His tone was the same as always—calm, measured—but there was an undercurrent of concern beneath it.

“In here,” you managed to reply, your voice quieter than usual.

It didn’t take him long to find you. He stepped into the room, his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up. When his eyes landed on you, his sharp gaze softened instantly.

“Rough day?” he asked, crossing the room and crouching in front of you so you were eye level.

You nodded, avoiding his gaze as your fingers twisted the fabric of the blanket. “It’s…a lot. Everything feels too much. I don’t even know why.”

Nanami tilted his head, studying you for a moment before he reached out to take your hands in his. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding you in the present. “You don’t have to justify it,” he said simply. “Sometimes things feel heavy without a clear reason. That doesn’t make your feelings any less valid.”

Your breath hitched, the calm conviction in his voice making your throat tighten with emotion. “I feel like I’m drowning, Kento. And I’m so tired of feeling like this.”

Nanami’s thumbs rubbed slow circles against your knuckles, his steady movements as comforting as his presence. “You don’t have to face it alone,” he said softly. “I’m here. We’ll take it one step at a time, together.”

You let out a shaky breath, finally meeting his eyes. The weight in your chest didn’t disappear, but the tight knot loosened ever so slightly under his steady gaze.

“Let’s focus on the basics,” he continued, his tone practical but kind. “Have you eaten today?”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed.

“Then we’ll start there,” he said firmly, standing and offering you his hand. “Come on. I’ll make something quick, and we’ll sit together. No pressure to talk if you’re not ready.”

You hesitated, but the look on his face—warm, patient, unwavering—made it hard to resist. Taking his hand, you let him guide you into the kitchen.

As he moved around with practiced ease, slicing vegetables and boiling water, he made quiet conversation, nothing too heavy. He told you about a coworker’s antics at the office and how the new bakery he passed had a line around the block. His voice was calm, steady, a soothing balm to your racing thoughts.

When he finally placed the bowl of food in front of you, he sat beside you at the table, his hand resting lightly on your back. “Take your time,” he said, his tone as soft as his touch.

You took a bite, the warmth of the food spreading through you like the comfort of his presence. “Thank you,” you murmured, glancing at him.

His lips curved into a small, rare smile. “You don’t need to thank me. Just remember, no matter how heavy it feels, you’re not alone in carrying it.”

Toji fushiguro — You sat curled up on the couch, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. The TV was on, but the sound was muted—just background noise to fill the heavy silence in your apartment. Your chest felt tight, and no amount of shifting or deep breathing seemed to make it better.

The sound of keys jingling snapped you out of your thoughts. The door opened with a quiet creak, and Toji stepped inside, his broad frame instantly making the small space feel smaller. He kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket over the back of a chair, his sharp green eyes flicking to you almost immediately.

“You’ve been like this all day, huh?” he asked, his voice low and gruff but not unkind.

You glanced away, embarrassed. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, though your voice cracked on the last word.

Toji let out a short, knowing laugh. “Yeah, that’s convincing.” He walked over, dropping onto the couch beside you with a heavy thud. His body heat radiated toward you, and though he didn’t touch you yet, his presence alone was grounding.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he asked, leaning back and draping one arm along the back of the couch, his tone softer now.

You hesitated, staring down at your hands. “I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Everything just feels…wrong. I can’t stop overthinking, and it’s like no matter what I do, I can’t calm down.”

Toji’s brow furrowed as he watched you, but he didn’t rush you to say more. After a moment, he let out a low sigh and reached out, his rough hand resting on your knee.

“Hey,” he said, his voice steadier now. “First of all, cut yourself some slack. You’re allowed to feel like this. Nobody’s got it all figured out, not even me.”

You glanced at him, raising a skeptical brow. “You sure about that?”

Toji smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m serious. You think I’ve never had nights where I felt like ripping my own damn hair out? Life’s messy, and sometimes it gets too loud up here.” He tapped his temple lightly.

His words caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected him to open up, even a little.

“But,” he continued, giving your knee a gentle squeeze, “you don’t have to deal with it on your own. You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere. Got it?”

Your throat tightened, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I just feel so stupid sometimes. Like I’m making a big deal out of nothing.”

Toji’s expression darkened slightly, his tone firm. “Stop that. Your feelings aren’t stupid, and you’re not a damn burden. If it matters to you, it matters. Don’t let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise.”

His words struck something deep inside you, and before you knew it, you were leaning into him, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn’t hesitate, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The weight on your chest was still there, but it felt a little lighter with his steady presence grounding you.

“Feel like getting some fresh air?” he asked after a while, his voice low and rumbling. “Sometimes a walk helps. If not, we’ll come back, and I’ll make you something to eat. Or we can just sit here, your call.”

You nodded against his shoulder, his straightforwardness cutting through the fog in your mind. “A walk sounds nice.”

Toji stood, pulling you to your feet with ease. He grabbed your coat and handed it to you, his lips quirking into a small grin. “Good. And if anyone so much as looks at you wrong, I’ll take care of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his dramatic threat, the tension in your chest easing just a little more.

With Toji by your side, the world didn’t feel quite as overwhelming.

Sukuna ryomen — You sat on the floor of your room, back pressed against the wall, trying to breathe through the crushing weight in your chest. Everything felt wrong—your thoughts raced, your heart pounded, and no matter what you tried, the panic refused to let go. You buried your face in your knees, squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay.

“Oi.”

The familiar deep voice cut through the haze in your mind. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Sukuna. His presence always carried an undeniable weight, like the air itself bent around him.

You didn’t respond. Maybe if you ignored him, he’d leave.

“Are you seriously going to sit there like that?” he said, his tone sharp but lacking its usual venom. You could hear his footsteps as he crossed the room. “You’re better than this.”

You finally lifted your head, glaring at him through tear-filled eyes. “Better than what? Feeling like this? I can’t just make it stop, Sukuna.”

He crouched down in front of you, his crimson eyes narrowing as he studied your face. “Tch. No one said you had to ‘just make it stop.’” His voice was quieter now, almost calm. “But you’re not going to get through it by curling up and letting it win, either.”

You scoffed, turning your head away. “Why do you even care?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he shot back without hesitation. His words were blunt, but his tone softened slightly. “You’re mine. If you think I’m going to let some invisible nonsense bring you down, you’re wrong.”

Your breath hitched, his declaration catching you off guard. Sukuna, of all people, wasn’t exactly known for kindness or concern. Yet here he was, crouched in front of you, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“You don’t have to fight this alone,” he said after a moment, his voice lower now, more controlled. “But you do need to fight it. Let it scream all it wants. Let it throw its punches. Then stand up and remind it who you are.”

His words struck something deep within you, and tears began to fall despite your best efforts. “I don’t know if I can,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Sukuna sighed, leaning back slightly but staying close. “You can,” he said firmly. “And even if you stumble, I’m here. I’ll drag you back to your feet if I have to.”

You looked up at him, your vision blurred with tears. “You’d really do that?”

He smirked, but it wasn’t as sharp as usual. There was something softer in the way he looked at you. “Of course. Can’t have my little human breaking apart, now can I?”

A shaky laugh escaped you, and Sukuna’s smirk widened slightly. He extended a clawed hand toward you, palm up. “Come on. You’re not staying on the floor all night.”

You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his. His grip was warm and surprisingly gentle as he pulled you to your feet. He didn’t let go immediately, his hand lingering in yours for just a second longer than necessary.

“Better,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You don’t need to be perfect. Just keep moving forward, little one. That’s enough.”

You nodded, his words settling in your chest like a spark of light. With Sukuna beside you, the weight on your shoulders didn’t seem quite as heavy anymore.

Megumi fushiguro — You sat at the edge of your bed, gripping the fabric of your pants as your mind spiraled. Your chest felt tight, and your breaths came shallow, no matter how hard you tried to slow them. You hated this feeling—this overwhelming, suffocating anxiety that left you frozen in place.

A knock at the door broke through your haze

“Hey,” Megumi’s soft, steady voice called from the other side. “Can I come in?”

You hesitated, debating whether to send him away, but before you could answer, the door creaked open just enough for his head to peek through. His dark eyes locked onto yours, scanning your face with quiet concern.

“Thought so,” he said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He didn’t say anything else right away, just walked over and sat beside you on the bed, leaving a small but comforting distance between you.

You stared at the floor, ashamed to even look at him. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, though the tremble in your voice gave you away.

Megumi let out a quiet sigh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “You don’t have to say that,” he said, his voice calm and even. “I can tell you’re not.”

You bit your lip, feeling the tears start to build. “I hate this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I hate feeling like I’m stuck in my own head, and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Megumi glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t have to figure it out alone,” he said after a moment. “I know it feels like you’re drowning, but you’re not. I’m right here.”

His words made something in your chest ache, and you let out a shaky breath. “I just—I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not,” Megumi said firmly, finally turning to face you. “Don’t even think that. Everyone needs help sometimes. Even me.”

You blinked, looking at him in surprise. “You?”

He gave a small, almost self-deprecating smile. “Yeah. You’ve seen how I can get—shutting people out, trying to deal with everything on my own. It doesn’t work.” He hesitated, his voice softening. “You’ve been there for me before. Let me be here for you now.”

The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, and Megumi didn’t hesitate. He scooted closer, his hand reaching out to gently rest on yours. His touch was warm and grounding, steady in a way that made your chest feel a little less tight.

“Breathe with me,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Just focus on my voice.”

You nodded, following his lead as he guided you through slow, deep breaths. His voice was calm, his presence unshakable, and gradually, the suffocating weight in your chest began to ease.

“Better?” he asked after a while, his tone gentle but hopeful.

You nodded again, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “A little,” you admitted.

Megumi gave you a small smile, the kind that was rare but always genuine. “Good. It doesn’t have to be perfect right now. Just one step at a time.”

He stayed by your side, his hand still resting over yours, and for the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe again. With Megumi’s quiet strength grounding you, the storm in your mind didn’t seem so impossible to face.

Yuji itadori — You sat on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring blankly at the floor. Your chest felt heavy, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t untangle. Everything felt like too much, and no matter how hard you tried to calm down, nothing seemed to work.

The sound of the door opening barely registered in your mind.

“Hey, I’m back!” Yuji’s cheerful voice echoed through the room, followed by the sound of a bag hitting the floor. “I got your favorite snack—” He stopped mid-sentence when he saw you. “Wait…what’s wrong?”

You didn’t look up, trying to blink back the tears threatening to fall. “It’s nothing,” you murmured, though your shaky voice betrayed you.

Yuji was by your side in an instant, crouching in front of you with a concerned expression. “Hey,” he said softly, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Don’t say that. If something’s bothering you, it’s not nothing.”

You shook your head, burying your face in your knees. “I just… I don’t know how to explain it. My head won’t stop racing, and everything feels like it’s too much.”

Yuji sat down on the floor in front of you, crossing his legs and resting his arms on his knees. “Okay,” he said gently. “Then you don’t have to explain it. But you don’t have to deal with it alone either, okay? I’m here.”

You peeked at him through watery eyes. “I don’t want to ruin your day, Yuji. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

He frowned, his face softening as he reached out to rest a hand on your knee. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re never ruining my day, okay? You’re important to me. If you’re feeling bad, then I want to help.”

His words broke something in you, and a tear slid down your cheek. Yuji’s expression didn’t falter. Instead, he smiled, soft and reassuring. “You know what we’ll do? We’ll take it one step at a time. No pressure, no rush. Just little steps until it feels better.”

“How?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“First, we breathe,” he said, shifting to sit beside you on the couch. “Come on, match my breathing. In for four, out for four.” He exaggerated each breath, making it easy for you to follow.

You mimicked him hesitantly, the steady rhythm of his breathing drawing you out of your head little by little.

“See? You’re doing great,” he said, beaming at you once you both settled into a calmer pace. “Now, do you want to talk about it? Or do you just want to sit here for a while?”

You glanced at him, his warm smile easing the tightness in your chest. “Just…sit here for now.”

“Okay,” he said simply. Without hesitation, Yuji wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you gently against him. “We’ll just sit. I’ll be here as long as you need.”

The warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing grounded you in the moment. With Yuji by your side, the weight pressing down on you didn’t feel quite as heavy. He didn’t need to say anything else—his presence alone was enough to remind you that you weren’t alone.

251 notes · View notes

elryuse · 2 days ago

Note

jang wonyoung-------- where oc is three years older than wony and have been dating before ive debut but its a secret in the public eye,but then thing happened wony kind of cheated oc finds out about it but he just can't let her goo so he endure at first but then it become worse and then they kind of parted ways even though wony doesnt seem to want to let go of oc.They really cant stay away from each other even though wony and oc parted ways they are still intertwined.Lets say oc is in the palm of wony hands kind of pretty toxic but sweet yeah...

Toxic Till The End

Wonyoung X Male Reader

Disclaimer : Don't Be Toxic Kiddo, :D

You glance at the clock hanging on the wall behind the counter, wiping your hands on your apron as you wait for the next customer. It's early afternoon, a little after lunch, and the regular crowd has started to trickle in. Your café, tucked away in a quiet alley just a short walk from the busy corporate district, has always had a steady stream of customers. But lately, you’ve noticed a particular customer who has caught your attention.

It’s Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung. You’ve known her face for a while, even before she began frequenting your café. As a popular idol, her posters and commercials are everywhere, but the first time she came into your café, it felt different. You weren’t just seeing her through a screen. She was right there, in front of you, asking for a latte with the softest voice.

At first, it was nothing special. Just a polite exchange, like with any customer. You kept your cool, even though you were a little starstruck. But the more she visited, the more those polite exchanges became something more. A smile here, a small compliment there. You found yourself looking forward to the days when she’d step through the door, her eyes scanning the room before they settled on you with a glimmer of recognition.

The bell above the door jingles, and like clockwork, Wonyoung steps inside. She’s wearing a simple, oversized coat and a cap pulled low over her face, but you’d recognize her anywhere. Today, though, something is different. She looks tired, her shoulders slightly slouched, and her usually bright expression is dimmer.

“Hey,” you greet her, offering a warm smile. “The usual?”

She nods, pulling her cap a little lower as she approaches the counter. “Yeah, please. One vanilla latte.”

As you start preparing her drink, you decide to strike up a conversation like you’ve done before. “Rough day?”

She chuckles softly, leaning her elbows on the counter. “You have no idea. It's been non-stop meetings and rehearsals. I just needed a break.”

You hand her the drink, watching her fingers brush against yours as she takes the cup. The small contact makes your heart skip a beat, but you quickly focus back on the conversation. “Well, I’m glad you came here to take that break. The world can wait a little, right?”

She looks up at you through her lashes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, I guess so. This place has kind of become my escape.”

Her words stir something in you. An idol like her, with the entire world watching her every move, finding a sense of peace in your small café? It’s flattering. You lean against the counter, trying to play it cool, but the warmth in your chest is undeniable.

“You’re welcome here anytime, you know that,” you say, your voice dropping slightly. It’s an invitation you’ve given before, but somehow it feels more meaningful now.

Wonyoung sips her latte, the steam rising between you two as she lets out a content sigh. “Thanks. That really means a lot.”

There’s a comfortable silence for a moment, the two of you just enjoying each other’s company. But then, as you’re about to ask her something, a group of fans passing by outside catches your eye. They don’t seem to have noticed her yet, but you know it’s only a matter of time. Wonyoung must sense your unease because she follows your gaze and tenses slightly.

“Do you need to go?” you ask, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

She hesitates, glancing toward the door. “I probably should…”

You don’t want her to leave. Not yet. Not when it feels like you’re finally getting closer. Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “Would you maybe want to hang out sometime? Outside of here, I mean.”

Her eyes widen slightly, surprised by your sudden boldness. You can feel your palms getting sweaty, and you mentally curse yourself for being too forward. But then, to your surprise, she smiles—a real, genuine smile that lights up her face.

“Are you asking me out?” she teases, her tone light but her gaze intense.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “Uh, yeah. I guess I am.”

She looks down at her drink, her fingers tracing the rim of the cup. For a moment, you think she’s going to turn you down, but then she looks up again, her smile still there.

“I’d like that,” she says softly, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “But… we’d have to keep it a secret. My company has strict rules about… well, you know.”

You nod, understanding immediately. Dating an idol? You’ve heard the horror stories of how fans react. But the thrill of the secrecy only adds to your excitement. “I can keep a secret if you can.”

She giggles, the sound like music to your ears. “I guess we’ll see.”

As she stands to leave, you can’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline. You just asked out Jang Wonyoung—and she said yes.

“When should we—” you begin, but she interrupts with a sly smile.

“I’ll text you. We’ll figure it out.”

She waves goodbye, leaving you standing behind the counter, your heart pounding in your chest. You watch her disappear down the street, the bell on the door chiming softly as it swings shut behind her.

For the first time in a long time, you feel like something big is about to happen. Something that could change everything.

The days that followed felt like a blur of anticipation. Every time your phone buzzed, your heart would leap, hoping it was her. And then, one night, just as you were closing up the café, her name flashed across your screen.

“Tomorrow. 8 PM. I know a quiet place.”

You read the text over and over, a smile creeping across your face. It was happening. You were actually going on a date with Wonyoung, and no one else knew.

The next day, you close the café a little earlier than usual, making sure everything is perfect before you head out. The nerves hit you the moment you step outside. What would it be like? What would you talk about? But there’s also an excitement bubbling beneath the surface—a thrill you haven’t felt in years.

When you arrive at the spot she mentioned, you’re surprised to find it’s a small, dimly lit park, tucked away from the busy streets. It’s quiet, serene, and the perfect place for two people who didn’t want to be seen.

Wonyoung is already there, sitting on a bench, her face partially hidden by the hood of her coat. But when she looks up and sees you, her face breaks into a smile.

“You came,” she says softly, standing to greet you.

“Of course,” you reply, your voice a little shaky. You try to play it cool, but your heart is racing.

You sit beside her on the bench, the cool evening air wrapping around the two of you. For a moment, neither of you says anything, just enjoying the rare moment of privacy.

“So,” she begins, breaking the silence. “You really weren’t scared to ask me out? Most people wouldn’t dare.”

You chuckle nervously. “Well, I guess I’m not like most people.”

She grins, her eyes sparkling. “No, you’re not. That’s why I said yes.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but feel drawn to her in a way that’s both intoxicating and terrifying. The fact that you’re sitting here, in the dark, in secret, makes everything feel a little more dangerous. But you like it. You like her.

As the conversation flows, it becomes clear that there’s more to Wonyoung than what the world sees. She tells you about the pressures of being an idol, the constant scrutiny, the expectations that weigh on her shoulders. You listen intently, feeling protective over her in a way you hadn’t expected.

“You must get lonely,” you say, your voice soft.

She nods, looking down at her hands. “I do. Sometimes it feels like I’m living two lives—one for the public and one for myself. But the lines get blurred, and I don’t know which one is real anymore.”

You reach out, gently placing your hand over hers. “This is real,” you say firmly. “Whatever this is between us—it’s real.”

She looks up at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable. For a moment, you think she’s going to pull away, but then she squeezes your hand, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

“I hope so,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

The warmth of your bond with Wonyoung had grown over the years, weaving itself into every corner of your life. From stolen evenings in the quiet corners of the city to shared laughter over cups of coffee in the dim glow of your café, your relationship had become something sacred. She trusted you, and you loved her with every fiber of your being.

But things started to shift when Wonyoung sat across from you one evening, her face pale and serious.

“I have something to tell you,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

You set down your cup, leaning forward. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated, her fingers nervously tracing the rim of her mug. “It’s… good news, really. But…” Her words faltered, and the worry in her eyes twisted your gut.

“Wonyoung, just tell me,” you urged gently.

“I’m debuting,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and suffocating. You stared at her, trying to process what she’d just said. Wonyoung had always talked about her dreams of becoming a star, of standing on the biggest stages and sharing her talent with the world. You should have been happy for her, proud even. But all you could feel was the growing pit in your stomach.

“That’s… amazing,” you said, forcing a smile.

She smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It is. It’s everything I’ve worked for. But… you know what this means, right?”

Your heart sank. “What are you saying?”

She looked down, her hands gripping her mug tightly. “The company’s rules are even stricter now. I’ll be busier than ever. Training, schedules, promotions… I won’t have time for…” Her voice cracked, and she bit her lip, trying to hold back her emotions.

“For us,” you finished for her, your voice hollow.

She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. This isn’t what I want, but I don’t have a choice. If they find out about us, it could ruin everything—for both of us.”

You sat back, the weight of her words pressing down on your chest. This was it. The moment you’d feared since the day you started dating her. You knew the risks of being with an idol, but you’d always hoped you could make it work. Now, it felt like that hope was slipping away.

“I understand,” you said quietly, your throat tight. “Your dream has always come first. I don’t want to hold you back.”

She reached across the table, taking your hand in hers. “You’ve never held me back. You’ve been my anchor, my safe place. I don’t want to lose that.”

“You won’t,” you promised, squeezing her hand. “Even if we can’t be together the way we want, I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

Her tears spilled over, and you pulled her into your arms, holding her tightly as she cried. You wanted to believe your own words, but deep down, you knew this was the beginning of the end.

The days that followed were the hardest of your life. Wonyoung’s visits became less frequent, her texts and calls more sporadic. You understood why, but that didn’t make it any easier. You poured yourself into your work, trying to distract yourself from the emptiness she left behind.

Then, one day, the messages stopped altogether.

At first, you told yourself she was just busy. Her debut was approaching, after all. But as weeks turned into months, the silence became deafening. You stared at your phone every night, hoping for a message, a call—anything. But nothing came.

You threw yourself into your café, hoping the familiar routine would keep you grounded. But even there, reminders of her were everywhere. The table by the window where she always sat, the scent of vanilla lattes that lingered in the air—it all made your heart ache.

Your only solace was watching her from afar. You followed her career, watching every performance, every interview, every commercial. She was incredible, just as you always knew she would be. But the bright lights and the adoring fans only reminded you of how far away she was now.

Still, you held onto hope. You told yourself that one day, when the world wasn’t watching so closely, she’d come back to you.

Years passed, and your life settled into a routine. The café grew busier, and you built a reputation for being the cozy little spot that people loved. But no matter how much time passed, Wonyoung was always in the back of your mind.

Every time the bell above the door jingled, your heart leapt, hoping it was her. Every time you saw someone with long, dark hair or heard a soft laugh, you thought of her.

One evening, after closing up, you sat alone in the café, a cup of coffee growing cold in your hands. The dim light from the streetlamps outside cast long shadows across the walls, and the quietness of the night only amplified the loneliness in your heart.

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through old messages from Wonyoung. You hadn’t deleted them, even though it hurt to read them. They were all you had left of her.

“I miss you,” you whispered into the empty room, your voice breaking.

You didn’t know if she’d ever come back. You didn’t know if she even thought about you anymore. But you couldn’t let go. She was your first love, and a part of you would always belong to her.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, you continued to wait. You didn’t know what the future held, but you knew one thing for sure: if Wonyoung ever walked through that door again, you’d welcome her with open arms.

For now, all you could do was hope. Hope that somewhere, in the midst of her glittering, chaotic life, she still remembered the little café where it all began.

The bell above the café door jingled softly as another customer walked in, but your mind was elsewhere. The days had blended into a monotonous cycle—serving coffee, cleaning tables, and quietly hoping. Hoping that one day, Wonyoung would return, her familiar presence lighting up the small café once more.

You told yourself every day that it was foolish. That she had likely moved on, swept away by the tidal wave of her career. But a small part of you clung to the memories, refusing to let go.

Then, one fateful evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, you saw her.

It was a glimpse at first—a flash of her unmistakable silhouette passing by the large window of your café. Your heart leaped, the familiar rush of emotions flooding your chest. Without thinking, you dropped the cloth in your hand and hurried to the door, your pulse racing.

“Wonyoung!” you called out, stepping onto the quiet street.

She didn’t turn around.

You froze, your voice caught in your throat as your eyes locked onto her. She was walking down the street, her delicate figure wrapped in a soft beige coat. But she wasn’t alone.

There was a man beside her, tall and well-dressed, with an air of casual confidence. Wonyoung clung to his arm, her smile bright and carefree. The sight hit you like a punch to the gut.

You stood there, rooted to the spot, watching as she tugged his arm playfully, her laughter floating through the crisp evening air. It was a sound you knew all too well, one that used to be yours. And that smile—the same radiant smile she’d given you on your first date—was now meant for someone else.

Your heart clenched painfully, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Was it just a colleague? A friend? Or… something more?

The rational part of you tried to dismiss it. She’s an idol. She must have many colleagues, right? But deep down, a gnawing doubt began to take hold, and with it came a wave of desperation.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. The image of Wonyoung with that man replayed in your mind like a cruel, endless loop. You tried to push it aside, to reason with yourself, but the knot in your chest refused to loosen.

You kept telling yourself that it didn’t mean anything. That there had to be an explanation. But the doubt lingered, growing stronger with each passing day.

“She’ll come back,” you whispered to yourself as you cleaned the counter the next morning. “She’ll explain everything.”

But she didn’t.

Days turned into weeks, and Wonyoung never walked through your door. You scrolled through her social media, searching for clues, but found nothing. Her life seemed to be as glamorous and untouchable as ever. Meanwhile, you felt yourself spiraling.

Your thoughts became consumed with her. You replayed every moment, every smile, every touch. You clung to the memories like a lifeline, even as they began to feel like a weight pulling you under.

Every night, you prayed silently, your hands clutching your phone as you stared at her name. You prayed that she’d text, that she’d call, that she’d walk through the door with that familiar shy smile.

But she never did.

One evening, as you closed up the café, you found yourself back at the place where you’d seen her with the man. You didn’t even know why you were there, only that you couldn’t stop yourself.

You sat on a bench nearby, staring at the street as if willing her to appear. The desperation in your chest had grown into a hollow ache, one that refused to go away.

“She wouldn’t do this to me,” you muttered under your breath, your hands gripping your knees. “She wouldn’t cheat on me.”

But the memory of her smile—the one she gave that man—gnawed at your resolve.

Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no sign of her. Your friends began to notice the change in you. They asked if you were okay, if something was wrong. But you brushed them off, retreating further into yourself.

Your café became your only refuge, the one place where you could pretend everything was still normal. But even there, the memories of her lingered like ghosts.

Every time the bell above the door jingled, you looked up, hoping it was her. Every time someone ordered a vanilla latte, your chest tightened with longing.

But Wonyoung never came.

The toxic cycle began to take its toll. You stopped sleeping, your nights spent staring at your phone, waiting for a message that never came. You stopped eating, your appetite replaced by a gnawing emptiness that nothing could fill.

Your friends tried to pull you out of it, but their words fell on deaf ears. How could they understand? They didn’t know what it was like to love someone like Wonyoung. To love her so deeply that it consumed you.

“She’ll come back,” you told yourself again and again, your voice growing weaker each time. “She has to.”

But deep down, a part of you knew the truth. You’d seen it with your own eyes. Wonyoung had moved on. She had someone else now.

And yet, you couldn’t let go.

You kept praying, day after day, for her to come back. You told yourself that if you just held on a little longer, she’d walk through the door and everything would be okay again.

But as the weeks turned into months, the hope that had once sustained you began to wither away.

You were losing yourself in the waiting, in the longing, in the toxic spiral of loving someone who no longer cared.

And still, you couldn’t stop. Because as much as it hurt, the thought of letting go hurt even more.

The rain came down in heavy sheets, drumming against the windows of the café as the sky wept its sorrow. You stood behind the counter, absentmindedly drying a mug as you stared out into the gray, dismal street. The café was quiet tonight, save for the occasional rattle of thunder in the distance.

Then, through the streaks of rain on the glass, you saw her.

Your breath caught in your throat as Wonyoung’s familiar figure emerged from the downpour, standing just outside the café. Her hair clung to her face, wet from the rain, and her shoulders trembled as she hugged herself tightly. She looked… broken.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing. This was the moment you’d prayed for countless nights. Yet now that it was here, something inside you felt different.

With a deep breath, you walked to the door and gently pushed it open.

The bell jingled softly, but Wonyoung didn’t move. She stood in the rain, tears streaming down her face, mingling with the raindrops.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice trembling.

You stood there, watching her cry, her words cutting through the sound of the rain. In the past, you would have rushed to her, held her close, and whispered soothing words until her tears stopped. But tonight, something in you had changed.

You stepped aside, motioning for her to come in. “You’ll catch a cold out there,” you said quietly, your tone calm but distant.

She looked up at you, her eyes red and swollen, and hesitated for a moment before stepping inside.

Wonyoung sat at her usual spot by the window, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea you’d prepared without a word. The warm light of the café cast soft shadows across her face, accentuating the sadness in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.”

You sat across from her, your expression unreadable. “What exactly are you sorry for, Wonyoung?”

She flinched at the coldness in your tone, her fingers tightening around the cup. “For… disappearing. For not calling. For—” Her voice cracked, and tears welled up in her eyes again. “For hurting you.”

Your heart clenched at her words, but you forced yourself to remain composed. You couldn’t fall into the same cycle again. Not this time.

“Why are you here, Wonyoung?” you asked, your voice firm but not unkind.

She looked up at you, her eyes searching your face for some sign of warmth, of forgiveness. “I missed you,” she said softly.

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. “Missed me?” you echoed, your voice tinged with skepticism. “Or are you just bored?”

Her eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, she was speechless. “How could you say that?”

“Because, Wonyoung,” you said, your voice steady, “you walked away. You left me here, waiting for you, while you moved on with your life. And now, after all this time, you show up out of nowhere, crying and saying you’re sorry. What am I supposed to think?”

She stared at you, her lip trembling. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought… I thought you’d understand.”

“Understand what?” you asked, leaning forward. “That I wasn’t worth even a text? That you could just show up whenever it suited you and expect me to be here, waiting with open arms?”

Her tears spilled over, and she buried her face in her hands. “I didn’t know what to do,” she sobbed. “I was scared. Scared of losing everything.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I understand fear, Wonyoung. But you don’t get to use that as an excuse to treat me like I don’t matter.”

Her sobs quieted, and she looked up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of guilt and confusion. “You’ve never talked to me like this before,” she said softly.

“Maybe I should have,” you replied. “Maybe if I’d been more honest with you from the start, we wouldn’t be here now.”

The silence between you was heavy, broken only by the sound of rain tapping against the windows. For the first time, Wonyoung seemed at a loss for words.

“You’ve always been there for me,” she said finally, her voice trembling. “Even when I didn’t deserve it. I don’t want to lose you.”

You sighed, leaning forward and resting your elbows on the table. “Wonyoung, this isn’t about what you want. It’s about what’s fair—for both of us. I’ve spent years waiting for you, hoping for something that might never happen. And it’s taken me this long to realize that I deserve more than that.”

Her eyes filled with fresh tears, and she reached across the table, her hand trembling. “Please… don’t give up on me.”

You hesitated, staring at her outstretched hand. Every part of you wanted to take it, to pull her into your arms and pretend everything was okay. But you knew that would only lead to more pain.

“I’m not giving up on you,” you said quietly. “But I can’t keep doing this. If you want me in your life, you need to show me that I matter. Not just when it’s convenient, but always.”

Her hand faltered, and she pulled it back, clutching it to her chest. “I don’t know if I can do that,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

You nodded, your heart breaking all over again. “Then maybe it’s time we stop pretending this can work.”

She stared at you, her face a mixture of shock and devastation. “Are you saying it’s over?”

You took a deep breath, the words catching in your throat. “I’m saying that I can’t keep holding onto something that’s tearing me apart.”

Her tears fell freely now, but she didn’t argue. She simply nodded, her shoulders shaking as she cried.

The rain continued to fall outside as you sat there, the weight of your decision settling over you like a heavy blanket. For the first time in years, you felt a strange sense of clarity.

This wasn’t the ending you’d hoped for, but maybe it was the one you needed.

The days that followed Wonyoung’s tearful return were bittersweet. She seemed genuinely sorry, her apologies heartfelt and tear-streaked. For a while, it felt like things might finally be different. She softened around you, her laughter returning, her gentle touches and warm smiles reminding you of the Wonyoung you had first fallen for.

But as time passed, the cracks began to show again.

It started small—missed calls, vague excuses about her schedule, and moments where she seemed distracted even when she was with you. You told yourself it was fine. That she was busy. That you could be patient.

But then came the nights when she wouldn’t respond to your texts at all. The whispers online about her being spotted with someone else. The photos of her arm linked with another man’s, her smile radiant and carefree, just like it had been the first time you saw her with someone else.

You confronted her one evening when she finally came back to the café, her expression tense but defensive.

“Who is he, Wonyoung?” you asked, your voice quiet but trembling with restrained emotion.

She froze, her eyes wide, then quickly looked away. “It’s not what you think,” she said, her tone evasive.

“Then tell me what it is,” you pressed, your patience wearing thin. “Because this keeps happening, Wonyoung. You disappear, you’re seen with other guys, and then you come back here, apologizing like it’ll make everything okay.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she reached out to you. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she whispered. “You have to believe me.”

You pulled back, avoiding her touch. “That’s what you always say. But you keep doing it.”

She began to cry, her hands trembling. “I love you. I just… I don’t know how to handle everything. The pressure, the expectations. You’re the only thing that feels real, but sometimes it’s too much.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. You wanted to believe her. You wanted to hold onto the idea that she loved you, even if her actions said otherwise.

But the truth was undeniable. This wasn’t love. It was something toxic, something that was slowly destroying you both.

The cycle continued. Wonyoung would vanish for days, sometimes weeks, only to return with teary apologies and promises to do better. And every time, you forgave her.

You hated yourself for it. Hated how weak you felt, how easily you crumbled under the weight of her tears and her soft words. But no matter how much it hurt, you couldn’t let her go.

Until one night, when everything came crashing down.

You’d seen her again, smiling and laughing with someone else. The sight was like a knife twisting in your chest, and for the first time, something inside you snapped.

You went home that night and stared at your phone, the screen glowing with her name. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of anger, sadness, and despair.

Finally, you began to type.

“Wonyoung, I can’t do this anymore. You’ve hurt me too many times, and I can’t keep pretending that this is okay. I love you, but I need to love myself more. Goodbye.”

Your thumb hovered over the send button, your chest tightening. You knew this was the right thing to do, but it felt like tearing a piece of your soul away.

With a deep breath, you pressed send.

The message delivered instantly, the small checkmark mocking you as you stared at it. And then, you turned off your phone, the weight of your decision crashing down on you.

The days that followed were a blur of pain and emptiness. You tried to focus on the café, on the simple routines that had once brought you comfort. But everything reminded you of her—the scent of vanilla lattes, the sound of the bell above the door, the corner seat where she used to sit.

And then, one evening, your phone buzzed.

You hesitated, your heart racing as you stared at the screen. It was her.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.”

You closed your eyes, the familiar ache in your chest returning. You knew you shouldn’t reply. You knew this was just another loop, another step in the endless cycle of pain and forgiveness.

But even as you told yourself to ignore it, your fingers betrayed you, typing a response before you could stop them.

“I’m here.”

You hated yourself for it. Hated how easily she pulled you back in, how much power she had over you. But deep down, you knew the truth.

You and Wonyoung were toxic. You hurt each other, over and over, and yet you couldn’t let go.

Because no matter how much it hurt, no matter how broken it made you feel, you still loved her.

And some part of you always would.

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #beautiful #update #toxic #toxic relationship #wonyoung ive #ive wonyoung #jang wonyoung #wonyoung x reader #wonyoung x male reader #ive x reader #ive x male reader #ive moodboard #ive icons #wonyoung

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eatfishies · 2 days ago

Text

your touch sets me ablaze | 🔞

summary: Rafayel is determined to make all your worries go away.

Rafayel giving his "Miss Bodyguard" the time of her life.

word count: 3.5k words tags: NSFW, rafayel x reader (afab), porn without plot, oral sex (cunnilingus), clit play, swearing, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting and vaginal ejaculation, exhibitionism, overstimulation, public sex (or semi..? idk), pet names, breeding kink, creampie, established relationship fish notes: rafa fingers owo .. that’s it . i jus have an obsession w his pretty fingers ok . hehe hope all of u enjoy <3 ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ | my twt !

The long-awaited day of Rafayel’s exhibition is finally here. She smoothed out her dress, ensuring that there is no speck of dust or any creases. The dress hugged her curves like second skin, a dark blue shade that matches the ocean — she heard it faintly as she fixed herself on the mirror. The tidal waves swished around with fluidity as the birds chirped merrily, giving her a sense of peace despite the gnawing anxiety bubbling up inside her. She sighed, biting her lip as she mulled over her thoughts when the door opened, revealing Rafayel.

Dressed in a white buttoned shirt, paired with a dark blue suit jacket and black tailored slacks. He looked mesmerizing as he always does whenever she sees him. Many people claim that Rafayel’s paintings are beautiful, each brushstroke has its own story and together, mixed with the soft colors is enough to draw someone in. It was easy to get lost in his artworks hence why his buyers are eager to get their hands on the latest pieces of his art. Every art dealer was entranced by the beauty of it. One could say, if you gaze at his painting, the sight of it could linger in your mind even as you slumber, dancing around and luring you into the depths of the ocean.

He smiled at her, his eyes roaming over her figure appreciatively, “Hey cutie, looking good there.” He walked towards her, placing his hands on her hips, “Why the long face…? It’s my exhibition, not yours.” She knows he was just teasing, trying to quell her dwelling thoughts but she can only give him a faint smile.

“I know that… I just…” She sighed, unsure of how to properly form her sentence. Her mind is constantly racing, overlapping each fleeting thought. “I’ve just been… overthinking about all sorts of things, I suppose. Maybe it’s just the stress of everything…” She trailed off, her gaze drifting to the side.

The Lemurian hummed, studying his lover’s face with deep concentration, “Well, we still have some time left to kill. Do you wanna do something to take your mind off things?” His hands cupped her face gently, making her stare at his handsome face.

“Uh… I’m not sure.” She responded, still preoccupied with her troubles.

Rafayel’s hands fall to the side before grabbing her wrist and leading her out of the bedroom and into the center of the studio. He gently pushed her down to the couch, “Stay here.” He said before stalking off to grab something from the desk. She could only watch with curiosity, wondering what Rafayel had planned to distract her.

When he came back, he was holding a box of Pile It Up. She couldn’t help but smile, already feeling a surge of competitive spirit bubbling inside her. “Oh, you’re so on!” She grinned at him.

And yet, after a few minutes of playing, she felt the same thoughts resurfacing. Rafayel didn’t need to be told twice to know that his partner is deep in her worries, he could see the frown etched on her features or the way she subtly tapped her fingers repeatedly against the block.

He sighed, standing up and taking a seat next to her, “I hate seeing you like this.” He paused, searching her face before caressing her cheek tenderly, “We don’t need to talk about it but I wished I could take all your troubles away. It makes me sad to see you look so blue.”

A small hint of guilt crept up, she forced herself to hold Rafayel’s gaze. “I’ll be fine, really. Just… stress, the usual.” She spoke tiredly, relishing the feeling of his hand on her cheek.

Suddenly, an idea popped up inside the painter’s head. “Then… let me put your mind at ease, yeah?” But before she could inquire, the Lemurian pulled her into a soft kiss, effectively drowning out any single thought she had previously. Their lips moved languidly in a passionate yet loving kiss. His hands slid down to feel her curves, swallowing her needy whimpers as his fingers hiked the hem of the dress up, exposing more of her skin.

He gently laid her down and pulled away, hovering above her, admiring the way her lips are now swollen and glistened with his saliva. No doubt that the lipstick has smeared onto his mouth as well but he couldn’t care less, slowly inching closer to her most intimate place. She bit her lip, growing impatient at his deliberate and sensual movements but the words of protest died in her throat when Rafayel finally touched her clit, feeling the wet patch growing as he kept stroking her.

“You’re already so wet for me… you sure are eager, aren’t you?” He smirked as she gripped his arms and bucked her hips. “Come on, let me hear your pretty sounds, cutie.” He purred, effortlessly pulling her panties to the side and rubbing her slick folds. A string of moans and whimpers fell from her lips as Rafayel continued to touch her, staring intently as her expressions contorted to one of pleasure. The worry lines on her face, the frown and the anxiousness emitting off of her earlier are all gone, replaced by fervent lust and desire.

With a swift motion, Rafayel plunged two fingers deep inside her wet pussy. Her velvet walls clamping down tightly as he curled his digits, “Ha…! F- fuck! Raf…” She moaned out, it was the sound that he could never get tired of hearing. Her body writhed beneath her lover’s skilful ministrations.

“That’s it… keep feeling good around my fingers. You’re doing so well for me, baby.” He uttered sultry and low, pressing kisses on her neck before biting onto the flesh. He knew that once she was clear-headed, she would scold him for leaving a mark, especially when they were both due to attend his exhibition later. But Rafayel couldn’t care less, he was addicted to her scent, her taste, her sounds and everything about her makes him want to lose himself completely, surrendering himself to the woman he holds dear to.

The heat in her stomach coiled, the tell-tale signs of her climax approaching her as Rafayel fingers her faster and deeper, noticing the pitch of her moans getting louder. Her wet cunt squelched obscenely around his long digits as he worked to bring her close to her release. He licked her earlobe and nipped at it, “Be a good girl and come all over my fingers. Come on, you can do it, can’t you?”

Spurred by Rafayel’s encouragement, she squeezed her eyes shut as her pussy clenched tightly around his plunging fingers. “I’m… I’m close! I’m gonna come!” She cried out, her cunt clamping down on his digits as she came hard, pussy juice gushing out and all over his hand and wrist.

“Good girl. You did so great, my little conch.” He pulled his soaked fingers out and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Rafayel felt a swell of pride at seeing the state of his lover like this, she’s no longer concerned with troubling thoughts or anxieties. Only a look of pure bliss.

He brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked them clean, savoring the taste of her. “You taste divine, my love.” A blush spread through her cheeks as she stared at the sight of Rafayel delightfully tasting her essence.

“But… I’m not done yet. Not even close.” His voice drops an octave lower as he spread her legs wide and tugged her damp panties off, tossing them on the floor. Her cunt fluttered around nothing, dripping with slick from her orgasm earlier. “I can’t wait to devour you.” And with that, he leaned in and lapped her pussy tentatively, keeping his gaze fixed on her face as her fingers tangled in his purple hair, gripping it.

Debauched cries and moans bounced off the walls along with the erotic sounds of Rafayel eating her cunt out with vigor, like a man starved. “F- feels so good!” She whimpered as the Lemurian held her thighs, spreading them wider, giving him more access to her sopping core.

Unable to resist, Rafayel delved in deeper, sealing his lips around her clit and suckling the sensitive nub. He flicked his tongue faster, determined to bring his dear bodyguard to her peak once more. The needy sounds spilling from her lips were like music to his ears, urging him on, to give her the pleasure that she so desperately sought.

“D- don’t stop, Raf! Please!” Her hips bucked wantonly as she ground her slick cunt against his mouth. Rafayel smirked in response, letting her tug on his hair fiercely as he thrust his tongue deep inside her clutching heat, fucking her with his mouth, feeling incredibly turned on and eager to watch her fall apart beneath him.

He could feel her juices flooding his mouth, could taste her arousal coating his tongue. Rafayel could go on for days burying his head in between her legs, couldn’t ever get enough of her sweet essence. “Come for me. Come on my tongue like the good girl that you are.” He spurred, the words vibrating against her sensitive flesh.

The all-too familiar sensation coursed through her body as she moaned out, “I’m gonna come! Raf, I’m gonna come!” At that, Rafayel vigorously sucked hard on her clit, feeling her walls starting to flutter and clench around his plunging tongue. He could feel the heat of her core climbing, threatening to spill once more. The Lemurian easily slipped in two fingers, knuckle-deep into her dripping cunt. He pumped them in and out, curling them just so to hit that spot that made his lover writhe in utter bliss.

It was too much, the stimulation was overbearing as her body tensed, her thighs clamped around his head as she teetered on the brink. Rafayel gripped her hips tighter, holding her in place as he ate them out with wild, desperate abandon.

“Rafayel!” She cried out, arching off of the couch as her orgasm crashed over her for the second time. The painter moaned as he felt the flood of arousal coating his tongue and chin, lapping it up greedily as she shuddered and quaked beneath him. He could feel the way her walls gripped his fingers, sucking in and reluctant to let go, milking his hand for all it was worth.

“P- please… too much…” She whined, riding out the intense wave of her climax. Rafayel gave her dripping wet pussy one last lick before pulling back slightly to catch his breath. “I could just drown in your taste for the rest of my life.” He spoke breathlessly, slowly withdrawing his fingers and bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean, just like he did earlier.

Just as Rafayel was about to lean down and kiss her, the unmistakable sound of his ringtone snapped both of their attention. Rafayel stared down at her, a look of surprise on his face, “Let me get it.” He stood up and walked over to the desk, grabbing his phone. Frowning, he reads the message and pockets it away, looking back at her with a sigh. “It’s Thomas. Says we need to be at the exhibition in 20 minutes.”

A small part of her felt disappointed at the fact that they would need to go out soon but she wasn’t just the only one whos’ feeling it. Rafayel gazed at her with a slight pout, he had hoped to fuck her silly before they were called to the gallery. But alas, duties calls and if they stalled any longer, Thomas would suspect something was up, even though Rafayel is known for arriving late to his exhibitions or not even appearing at all.

“Should we just ditch this and not go?” He said exasperatedly, crossing his arms in annoyance. She smiled softly at him, sitting up straight and pulling her dress down, still panty-less underneath. She could feel her own slick running down her inner thighs, a faint blush spread through her cheeks as she briefly recalled the way Rafayel had brought her to climax twice.

However, her gaze lowered to the sight of Rafayel’s painfully hard and obvious bulge, straining against his pants. Biting her lips, she quickly squashed down any lewd thoughts, refraining from losing her focus by daydreaming about sinking her tight wet cavern onto Rafayel’s thick cock. No, she needs to get it together and actually drag her Lemurian lover to the gallery, lest they face the wrath of Thomas.

With a reluctant smile, she stood up and bent down to pick up her panties, slipping them on. “I guess it’s time to go. Come on, you pouty baby.” She pinched his cheek, earning a glare from her lover but it lacked no malice, instead filled with tenderness and love. Rafayel sighed dramatically, intertwining their fingers together, “Fine, fiiiiinee.”

As they began to walk towards the front door, she paused, “Ah wait, I need to grab something.” But Rafayel wouldn’t budge, clasping her hand tightly as he stared ahead. He leaned in and whispered hotly in her ears, “Just keep your panties on. Don’t think this is over just because we’re going somewhere.” Heat rises up to her cheeks at the suggestive implication, was Rafayel planning something? It was a risky move, she knew she should go and grab the short pants to wear beneath her dress but Rafayel only gripped his hold on her, sensing the slight confusion. “Trust me, cutie. I know a way to make the exhibition waaaay more entertaining.”

Alas, she gave in and nodded, “No funny stuff, alright!” She warned but Rafayel only smiled cheekily at her in response. “I’ll be a good boy and behave, dontcha’ worry, my darling.” He gave her a wink, a silent promise to be on his best behavior, yet there’s a hint of mischief in his eyes.

‧───────────────‧

The gallery was filled and buzzing with prestigious art dealers and other VIP guests, mingling around and admiring the exquisite artworks that were displayed on the walls. She stood to the side, a glass of champagne in her hand as she glanced at Rafayel who is, no doubt, forced to converse with the guests by Thomas. She hummed, taking in the scene before her, it was clear that Rafayel has always been popular but to witness it entirely was a different feeling. It warms her heart knowing that Rafayel is loved and cherished by many people here – a respected artist in his own field, earning awe-struck stares and quiet excited cheers.

She took a sip of her drink, enjoying her solitude when Rafayel sauntered over to her. “How is my princess doing?” He smirked, standing next to her, his gaze briefly flickering down to the hem of her dress. She could tell a thing or two about what he’s thinking, all of the thoughts are most likely inappropriate. “I’m doing okay.” She replied casually, “Shouldn’t you be talking to your esteemed guests? Wouldn’t want Thomas to come hurling complaints again, hm?”

At the mention of Thomas’s complaints, Rafayel grimaced and looked away, “Puh-lease, I’m his boss here, not him. He can’t control me, no matter how much he wants to.” His hand found their way on her hips, pulling her close. “Besides, I’m bored. Let’s go somewhere private, yeah?” Before she could voice out her objections, Rafayel immediately dragged her to the quieter, lonely

side of the gallery. There were no artworks framed on the walls nor are there any people here to disturb the couple. “Raf honey… are you sure we're allowed here? Isn’t this section of the gallery closed off?” Her voice tinged with uncertainty and maybe a little bit of unease at the blank and empty part of the gallery.

“It’s fine, no one ever comes home.” He reassured her, letting go of his hand and cupping her face, “Now, it’s just the two of us here.” Rafayel captured her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all of his pent-up desire from before into it. She could taste the remnants of her pussy juice, rendering her completely into a puddle of mess as Rafayel’s fingers trailed down and slipped underneath her dress with ease. She whimpered against his lips as Rafayel rubbed her clit through her damp panties, soaked from the pleasure she received back in the comfort of his home.

“R- raf… ah! Mhmm… we- we can’t” She murmured helplessly as Rafayel began to nip at her neck, licking the hickey he left there. It had bloomed beautifully, his mark on hers – a sign to everyone that she was his. Only his.

Of course, she hadn’t been a fool, she did try to cover up the hickey before they stepped into the exhibition but Rafayel wouldn’t stop pestering her and telling her to just leave it be. In the end, she caved in and proudly showed off the mark, albeit with much reluctance and embarrassment. Rafayel rasped, “Need you… need you here, right now.”

Swiftly, Rafayel tugged her panties aside and unzipped his pants, freeing his throbbing cock from the confines of his pants. He pressed her against the wall, her back facing him, “N- now?!” She sputtered but Rafayel was already stroking his aching shaft on her sopping wet mound.

He lined himself up, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at her entrance. Rafayel wanted nothing more than to slam inside, to consume her entirely, his body blazing with need but he knew she was still sensitive from the overstimulation. “Keep quiet, okay?” He whispered hotly before thrusting deep inside her slick walls, burying himself to the hilt, feeling it tighten.

“You feel so fucking good.” He gripped her hips, staring intently at his lover, biting her lips to stifle the moans and cries of pleasure. Without wasting any time, Rafayel set a brutal pace, hips snapping forward as he fucked into her dripping cunt with deep, powerful strokes. Anyone could walk in on them, going at it like rabbits in heat but all caution and care was thrown out of the window. Rafayel could only feel her wet, clasping heat, determined to bring her to the edge and make her feel good. There was no denying the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, if a guard were to catch them, they would no doubt be in trouble.

Then again, the risk is what makes it exciting. Rafayel groaned softly, nuzzling into her neck as she held back her cries of ecstasy, the familiar coppery tang of her blood sinking into her tongue from biting her lips too hard. Rafayel’s hands slid up to cup and knead her breasts through her dress as he pounded into her. The sensation was too much, her brain was all mushy as her pussy fluttered around him, sucking him in deeper, wanting more.

Her hands pathetically scrambled to hold onto the wall, squeezing her eyes shut as she desperately tries to not let a single sound fall off of her lips. Rafayel’s voice was low, “You're clenching me so tightly baby. Ha… what a dirty girl, taking my cock like this out in the open. You love this, don’t you?”

A whimper escaped from her throat as Rafayel slammed his hips forward fast and deep into her dripping, clinging heat. He noticed the way her breath quickened, her face etched in a fucked-out expression, losing herself to the overwhelming pleasure. Her pussy clenching around him, velvet walls fluttering wildly as he drove her closer to the edge.

Rafayel withdrew from fondling her breasts and gripped her face, turning her towards him as his lips met hers in a messy, desperate kiss, all tongue and teeth as he fucked her towards her release. “Come for me, you can do it. Come one more time for me on my cock.” He murmured against her lips, feeling his orgasm nearing.

He felt her body stiffened, coming undone as he drowned out all her cries with a wet, sensual kiss. Rafayel grunted, his hips stuttering and with one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside her soaked cunt. His cock jerked and pulsed as he pumped her full with his seed. Rafayel pulled away and panted, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, a sheen of sweat trickling down from their coupling. He gazed at her with adoring eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before he reluctantly pulled out of her cum-filled cunt. Rafayel tugged the panties to the center of her clit, covering her as she caught her breath.

Wordlessly, Rafayel scooped her into his arms around her, letting her rest her head against his chest. Her eyes shut closed, her mind dancing around cloud nine from the intensity of it all.

“Let’s go home, my love.” He said softly as he made his way towards the exit, ignoring the curious stares and ogles from the people in the exhibition. When Thomas tried to question him, Rafayel dismissed him and continued to walk to his car, gently putting her down onto the passenger seat.

Once they were home, Rafayel put on a bath and scrubbed her clean with much affection. Afterwards, he prepared dinner and cuddled her, staring down at her peaceful expression as she slumber.

“I love you, my treasure.” He spoke quietly, kissing her forehead before falling asleep with his lover in his arms.

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blbyena · 3 days ago

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boyfriend!mark x reader

Fluff - 1,209 words

You pull the "Do you love me?" card on Mark

You glance at the matching keychains, and immediately feel a sense of excitement. They’re adorable, and the idea of matching them with Mark makes you smile. With a skip in your step, you turn and look around the store for him.

“Mark!” you call out, waving your hand as you spot him near the back, browsing through some jackets.

He looks up at you, a little distracted, before making his way over. “What’s up?” he asks, his voice light.

You hold up the keychain set with a big grin. “Look! Aren’t they so cute? I thought we could get them. We’d match!”

Mark glances at the keychains, then back at you, his expression turning slightly uncertain. “Uh… yeah, I mean, they’re okay, I guess.”

You raise an eyebrow, not quite ready to let it go. “What do you mean? They’re adorable! Don’t you think they’d be cute for us?”

He lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “I’m definitely not matching with you with a keychain like that. I mean, it’s not bad or anything, but it’s just… not cute?.”

You sulk dramatically, pushing the keychains back onto the rack with a slight pout. “You’re being so mean! I thought it would be fun, but you don’t even want to match with me. It’s just a silly keychain, but no, you’re too cool for it.”

Mark watches you for a moment, his lips curling into a small smile. “Babe, I’m not trying to be mean. It’s just that—” He shrugs slightly. “It’s not my style, okay?”

You sigh loudly, crossing your arms. “It’s not fair! I just thought we could have something cute together, but whatever.” You tilt your head dramatically, glancing up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Guess I’ll just have to find someone else to match with.”

As Mark shakes his head and laughs, clearly not convinced about the keychains, you can’t help but put on your most irresistible puppy eyes, leaning slightly forward. “Please, Mark? They’re so cute!” you say, your voice soft and pleading.

Mark looks at you, but his expression is still firm. “I don’t know, baby. They’re not really my thing,” he says, giving a small shrug. “I just don’t think they’re that cute.”

You pout, not ready to give up just yet. You take a step closer, narrowing the gap between you two. “Come on, baby, please?” you say sweetly, your tone now laced with playful charm. “Just this once? For me?”

He tries to resist, but the sight of you so close to him, eyes wide and sparkling, clearly has an effect. You can see his resolve weakening, but he’s still holding his ground.

Not giving up, you shift tactics.

You take a deep breath and step closer to him, making sure to make your movements slow and deliberate. Your eyes lock onto his, and you flash him your most irresistible, pouty expression, the one you know drives him wild.

You huff softly, intertwining your hands with his gently. You inch closer, tilting your head ever so slightly as if you were genuinely heartbroken.

“Mark, Do you love me ?”you ask in the most innocent, sweet voice, eyes wide, as if the question is nothing more than a simple curiosity.

Mark freezes, blinking a few times as his eyes widen in disbelief. “Wait, you’re really pulling that card on me? You know I do…” he mutters, the words barely escaping his lips.

You innocently tilt your head, your lips curling into a small, teasing smile. “What card?” you ask, pretending to be clueless, your voice dripping with sweetness. “I’m just asking if you love your girlfriend.”

His heart starts racing a little, and you can see him fighting to keep his composure. The way you’re looking at him, the way you’re holding his hands, it’s hard for him to focus on anything else.

You take a step closer, letting your fingers graze against his chest lightly as you smile up at him, all charm and sweetness. “Well, if you love me,” you say, your voice dripping with affection and teasing, “you’d get them for me, wouldn’t you?”

Mark lets out a deep sigh, clearly trying to resist, but the way you’re looking at him is just too much. His lips part as if he’s going to say something, but the words just don’t come out. The puppy eyes are his kryptonite, and you know it.

“God, you’re impossible,” he finally mutters under his breath, his resolve completely shattered.

As Mark groans in defeat, he grabs the keychains from the shelf, still trying to act like he’s not completely charmed. “Fine, let’s get them,” he mutters, shaking his head as if he’s been completely overtaken. You can practically hear the smile in his voice despite his resistance.

You smile triumphantly, your eyes sparkling as you lean up to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, baby! I knew you’d come around.”

,you grab his hand and practically drag him toward the counter, your energy matching the happiness bubbling inside you.

He just shakes his head again, but the soft smile on his face tells you that, despite the teasing, he’s happy to have made you so happy.

hope you like this one!!

#Nct #nct dream #mark Lee #mark #nct mark #nct x reader #nct x you #nct fanfic #nct fluff #mark Lee fluff #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct imagines #Nct scenarios #mark lee fanfic

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zhelin-thames · 2 days ago

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Death’s Gentle Touch

@demonic0angel thank you for letting me write this.

Ps. This is not a dead silent ship but a dead on main ship. I am way too much of a dead tired, dead on main and dead serious fan🫣, so..... Srry😇

Danny hadn’t planned on staying in Gotham for long. The city was overwhelming, a swirling mess of emotions, crime, and shadows that never seemed to sleep. But something about it called to him—a faint pull in the back of his mind, like the restless murmur of ghosts who hadn’t yet crossed his path.

And then he started noticing them.

The kids.

Each one had a presence that whispered of death’s touch. Not full-on ghostly, but close. Too close. It tugged at Danny’s core, a strange mix of familiarity and concern. The first was a quiet boy, barely seven, with hollow eyes and a haunted expression. Danny found him huddled in the shadows of Crime Alley, shivering and alone.

It wasn’t even a conscious decision. He couldn’t leave the kid there.

And so, the warehouse became home.

The old building wasn’t much to look at from the outside, but Danny had poured what little ecto-energy he could spare into reinforcing it, patching up leaks, and making it livable. Inside, it was surprisingly cozy. Rugs covered the cold floor, mismatched furniture filled the space, and shelves lined with books and trinkets added a sense of warmth.

Within weeks, Danny’s little family had grown.

Five kids now called the warehouse home, each one with a story that left Danny seething with quiet rage. Abusive parents, neglectful guardians, and the harsh streets of Gotham had taken their toll on each of them. Danny couldn’t fix the past, but he could offer them something better: safety, warmth, and the promise that they’d never be alone again.

One of the kids, Sam, was from one of Gotham’s elite families. He’d run away after his parents’ cruelty pushed him too far. When Danny had found him, Sam had been too weak to argue.

It was Cassandra Cain who stumbled upon them.

She’d been tracking a lead on a missing child—the wealthy parents had finally reported Sam missing after weeks, though their concern had seemed more for appearances than genuine worry. Her trail led her to the refurbished warehouse.

Cass slipped inside silently, her every movement a shadow. What she saw stopped her in her tracks.

Danny was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a tattered storybook in his hands. The five kids were gathered around him, leaning against him or huddled close, their faces rapt with attention. Danny’s voice was soft, animated, bringing the story to life.

“...and the brave knight faced the dragon, not with a sword, but with kindness.” Danny smiled, looking down at the youngest child, a girl clutching his arm. “Because sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is try to understand someone else.”

Cass didn’t move for a moment.

The scene was so achingly peaceful, so pure, that it seemed impossible in a city like Gotham. She could feel the protective energy radiating from Danny, the way the kids seemed to trust him implicitly. It wasn’t just a man taking care of children. He was their anchor, their safe harbor.

Still, she stepped forward.

Danny looked up, his glowing green eyes meeting hers. For a second, Cass tensed, ready for a fight. But Danny’s expression softened, and he raised a hand in a calming gesture.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “You must be one of the Bats.”

Cass tilted her head, curious but cautious. “Who... are you?”

“I’m Danny,” he replied simply, closing the book. “And these are my kids.”

Her gaze flickered to the children. Sam had tensed at her presence, but Danny placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“They’re safe here,” Danny continued, his voice calm but firm. “I promise. I know you’re probably here for him.” He nodded toward Sam. “But he ran for a reason. And I’m not about to let anyone hurt him again.”

Cass reported back to Bruce and the others. The revelation sparked an intense debate in the Batcave.

“He’s just a kid himself!” Damian snapped, glaring at the screen showing Danny’s image. “What gives him the right to take in strays like this?”

“Pot, meet kettle,” Tim muttered, earning a scowl from Damian.

Bruce, arms crossed, studied the footage Cass had captured. Danny’s protective aura was undeniable, as was the bond he’d formed with the children. “We need to know more about him,” Bruce said. “His intentions, his background, his... abilities.”

Jason leaned against the wall, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re just mad someone’s beating you at the whole ‘adopting strays’ thing, B.”

Alfred cleared his throat. “Master Jason, perhaps we should focus on how best to ensure the children’s well-being.”

When the Bats finally confronted Danny in the warehouse, they were met with calm defiance. Danny stood his ground, the kids huddled behind him.

“I get it,” he said, arms crossed. “You’re the big, bad vigilantes of Gotham. But these kids? They’re not just cases or numbers. They’re people. And they deserve better than what the system gave them.”

Bruce stepped forward. “We’re not here to take them from you. But this isn’t sustainable. You’re their age. How do you plan to provide for them long-term?”

Danny hesitated, then sighed. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

Jason, watching the exchange, stepped closer. “What’s your deal, Danny? You’re not just some random guy.”

Danny met his gaze, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Jason smirked. “Try me.”

The Bats weren’t ones to leave mysteries unsolved, and Danny wasn’t about to spill his life story to a group of masked vigilantes without some trust first. It took weeks of cautious interactions and reluctant cooperation for things to come to light.

It was Jason who finally got Danny to open up.

One night, after dropping off a bag of supplies Bruce had insisted the kids needed, Jason stayed behind. He found Danny on the roof of the warehouse, leaning against the railing as he stared at the Gotham skyline. The night air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of the city.

“So,” Jason began, hopping onto the ledge beside him. “You’re not just some ordinary kid with a big heart. What’s your story?”

Danny let out a long sigh. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

For a moment, Danny said nothing. Then he raised his hand, letting a soft green glow surround it. “You ever hear of Amity Park?”

Jason frowned. “The town with all those ghost rumors? Thought it was a bunch of tabloid nonsense.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not,” Danny said, his voice quieter now. “I grew up there. My parents were... ghost hunters. They built a portal to another dimension—the Infinite Realms. Something went wrong, and I ended up... connected to it. Half-ghost, half-human.”

Jason blinked, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. “Half-ghost? Like, you died?”

“Sort of.” Danny’s tone was light, but his eyes reflected the weight of the experience. “It’s complicated. I didn’t plan to stick around Gotham, but then I started noticing these kids—how close they were to death, how much they’d suffered. I couldn’t just leave them.”

Jason studied him for a moment, then nodded. “You’re a weird guy, Danny. But I get it.”

Danny smirked. “Thanks, I think.”

Each child Danny had taken in had their own struggles, their own pain that had led them to him.

Sam: The son of a wealthy Gotham family, Sam had been raised in luxury but at a terrible cost. His parents cared more about appearances than his well-being, and the pressure to be perfect had been crushing. When Danny found him, Sam had been wandering the streets, bruised and desperate for escape.

Mia: A street-smart girl with a sharp tongue, Mia had grown up in foster care, bouncing between homes that never cared for her. She’d survived on her own for months before Danny found her, stealing food to survive.

Leo: Barely six, Leo had been abandoned in Crime Alley. He didn’t speak much, but he clung to Danny like a lifeline.

Ella: A bright-eyed girl with an affinity for art, Ella had been living in a condemned building with her older brother, who’d died protecting her. Danny found her crying over his body, her face pale and haunted.

Max: A quiet, thoughtful boy who had a near-death experience after falling into Gotham River. His brush with death had left him sensitive to the supernatural, and he’d been drawn to Danny almost instinctively.

Danny had given them all a second chance, teaching them to trust again. The warehouse became their safe haven, a place where they could heal.

Despite their initial skepticism, the Bats couldn’t deny that Danny was doing good. Bruce offered resources to help with the kids, on the condition that Danny let them monitor the situation.

“I’m not looking to turn this into a charity case,” Danny had said. “I just want what’s best for them.”

“And that’s what we’re offering,” Bruce replied evenly. “Whether you like it or not, we’re invested now.”

Danny found himself working with the Bats more often, whether it was coordinating efforts to help other at-risk kids or teaming up with them during ghost-related incidents.

Cass became a frequent visitor, quietly helping with the children and bonding with Danny over their shared love of storytelling. Tim couldn’t resist asking questions about ghost tech and the Infinite Realms, while Damian begrudgingly admitted that Danny wasn’t as useless as he’d assumed.

Jason, however, became Danny’s closest ally. The two shared a mutual understanding, both having faced death and come back changed.

Years passed, and the warehouse evolved. The children grew, some eventually striking out on their own while others stayed close. Danny became a pillar of the community, the once-abandoned warehouse now a thriving community center.

Jason remained a constant presence in Danny’s life. Their friendship deepened, and somewhere along the way, it turned into something more.

The wedding was a quiet affair, held in the Infinite Realms. The guests were a mix of humans and ghosts, an unusual but fitting reflection of Danny and Jason’s lives.

Sam, Mia, Leo, Ella, and Max—now young adults—stood by Danny’s side, their smiles bright and proud. The Bats, dressed in uncharacteristically formal attire, watched with a mix of fondness and exasperation as Jason said his vows.

“I didn’t think I’d get a second chance at a family,” Jason said, his voice steady but soft. “But with you, Danny, I found something I didn’t even know I was looking for.”

Danny smiled, his eyes glowing faintly. “And I found a home—in Gotham, in these kids, and in you. You’re stuck with me now, Jason.”

As they exchanged rings, the Infinite Realms shimmered around them, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond they’d forged.

And as they stepped into their future together, hand in hand, they knew they’d face whatever came next—together, as a family.

Over the years, Danny and Jason’s “kids” grew into remarkable young adults, each finding their own path while staying connected to the family they had built together.

Sam: The Voice for Justice

Sam’s upbringing in Gotham’s elite circles gave him unique insight into the city’s upper class. As an adult, he used that knowledge to challenge the corruption ingrained in Gotham’s wealthy families.

By day, Sam became a successful lawyer, taking on cases for those who couldn’t afford proper representation. By night, he used his connections to help Danny and Jason uncover and dismantle illegal operations hidden behind Gotham’s polished facade.

Despite his serious demeanor, Sam never forgot the kindness Danny showed him. He often visited the community center to mentor at-risk kids, giving them the guidance he wished he’d had.

Mia: The Protector

Mia’s sharp tongue and street smarts made her a natural fighter. She trained with Cass and Damian, honing her skills until she became a formidable vigilante known as Specterblade.

Unlike most of Gotham’s protectors, Mia embraced her ghostly side. Danny taught her how to channel ectoplasmic energy, giving her an edge in combat. She patrolled the streets with a ferocity that even Damian respected, targeting human traffickers and abusers with relentless determination.

Though she worked in the shadows, Mia also took an active role at the community center, running self-defense classes for women and teens.

Leo: The Guardian of the Realms

Leo’s quiet nature hid a deep connection to the Infinite Realms. Over time, his near-death experience evolved into a unique ability to sense disturbances between dimensions.

Danny noticed this early on and trained Leo to become a Realmwalker, a protector of the delicate balance between the mortal world and the Infinite Realms. Leo embraced the role, splitting his time between Gotham and the ghostly dimension.

He became a key figure in handling supernatural threats that even the Justice League struggled with. Though he was often away, Leo remained fiercely loyal to his family, returning whenever they needed him.

Ella: The Healer

Ella’s love for art evolved into a passion for design and restoration. She studied architecture and urban planning, eventually becoming a key figure in revitalizing Gotham’s neglected neighborhoods.

Her ghostly sensitivity gave her a unique perspective on spaces and their emotional resonance, which she used to create safe, welcoming environments. The community center was her first major project, and she expanded its reach with satellite locations across the city.

Ella’s gentle spirit made her a comforting presence in the family, and she often acted as the mediator when tensions ran high.

Max: The Tech Genius

Max’s brush with death left him fascinated by technology and its potential to change lives. He became a brilliant engineer, blending ghost tech and human innovation to create devices that pushed the boundaries of possibility.

Working alongside Tim, Max developed tools to help Gotham’s vigilantes fight crime more efficiently. He also created gadgets to help people with disabilities, inspired by the struggles he witnessed during his time on the streets.

Despite their busy lives, the kids never forgot their roots. They visited the warehouse-turned-community center regularly, helping Danny and Jason with new initiatives and staying connected to the city that had once failed them.

Max was the quiet brain behind many of the family’s operations, preferring to let his work speak for itself.

Family dinners were a chaotic but cherished tradition, with everyone gathering around the table to share stories, tease each other, and reaffirm their bond.

In their own ways, each of Danny and Jason’s kids carried on their legacy of hope, proving that even in a city as dark as Gotham, second chances could bloom into something extraordinary.

I might make this a series and show each kids journey. Hope you guys liked it.

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landososcar · 2 days ago

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jump then fall ; ln4

chapter one — i’m feeling you, baby

— pairing(s) ; college basketball captain!lando norris x college tutor!reader

— summary ; in which lando was so worried about his grades falling, he didn’t realise he was too.

— warnings ; 1692 words, death of a parent (mentioned), alcohol mentioned, nothing else i don’t think!

— note ; longer note at the end but i know this is set in america but i refuse to write ‘mom’ instead of ‘mum’ idc who that bothers

masterlist , next

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° .• *₊ ° . *☆. °:

the library was not a popular hangout space on a friday night for many of the people i go to school with — i know this because i'm one of the few people who regular the two story building.

tonight, like most nights, my corner of the library was deserted. a few students sat scattered across the first floor, scrolling through their phones or cramming for last-minute deadlines, but upstairs, where i always worked, it was silent. the kind of silence that wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing and distracting all at once.

i had just opened my laptop and pulled out my notes for monday’s tutoring session when i heard the unmistakable sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor.

i looked up, half expecting a lost freshman wandering in search of the printers, but what i saw instead almost made me freeze.

lando norris.

he was hard to miss — tall, broad-shouldered, perpetually disheveled in that annoyingly effortless way athletes always seemed to master. his varsity basketball jacket hung loosely on him, and his backpack was slung carelessly over one shoulder. he didn’t belong here. not just because he was the school’s golden boy or because his team was undefeated this season, but because lando norris had a reputation. parties, games, and the occasional appearance in class—those were his natural habitats. the library was not.

he stopped a few feet away from my table, glancing down at a crumpled piece of paper in his hand, then back up at me.

“are you y/n?” he asked, his voice deep but tinged with uncertainty.

i blinked at him, trying to piece together how he even knew my name. “uh, yeah. why?”

relief washed over his face, and he shoved the paper into his pocket. “good. i need your help.”

i arched an eyebrow. “with what?”

“passing calculus,” he said, flashing a grin that was somehow both charming and exasperating.

i stared at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. “calculus,” i repeated, as if saying the word out loud might somehow make this whole interaction make sense. since when did he care about passing classes?

“yeah.” he dropped his bag onto the table across from me with a soft thud and sank into the chair. “i have no idea what’s going on in that class. coach says i’ll be benched if i don’t pull my grade up, and the professor said you’re the best tutor on campus. so, here i am.”

my brain took a second to catch up. calculus wasn’t exactly light reading, and the idea of tutoring lando norris—someone i’d only ever seen surrounded by teammates, fans, or beautiful women—felt surreal. i’d heard his name in passing a hundred times, seen him on flyers for basketball games, but this was the closest i’d ever been to the school’s star athlete.

and now he wanted me to help him?

“why now?” i asked, leaning back in my chair, my brows furrowed. “the semester started months ago. you’ve just realized you’re failing?”

he scratched the back of his neck, sheepish. “something like that. look, i know this is probably the last thing you want to be doing on a friday night, but…” he paused, his hazel eyes meeting mine, almost pleading. “i really need this… i can’t be benched—it’ll ruin my shot with scouts, you know?”

i wanted to say no, that i didn’t understand. i had other students to tutor, i had my own workload, and honestly, i wasn’t sure if he was the type to take tutoring seriously. but something in the way he looked at me—equal parts desperation and genuine hope—made me hesitate.

“i don’t know,” i said slowly, closing my notebook. “do you even have your textbook with you?”

he froze. “textbook?”

i sighed, already regretting this. “yes, textbook. the big, heavy thing with equations in it? you’re going to need one if you want me to help you.”

“right, yeah. got it. i’ll bring it next time,” he said quickly, like he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “so, you’ll help me?”

i hesitated, weighing my options. if he failed, it wouldn’t just be his grade on the line—it’d be his position on the team, and judging by the way he was looking at me, i got the feeling basketball wasn’t just a sport to him.

“fine,” i said, crossing my arms. “but i’m not doing all the work for you. you show up on time, bring your materials, and actually put in the effort. if you don’t, i’m done.”

his grin returned, wider this time, and he nodded enthusiastically. “deal.”

“—and i charge $35 an hour.” he nods, muttering something about anything is fine and i hold back the urge to roll my eyes at him, “good. then i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“tomorrow?” his face fell slightly, like he hadn’t expected this to start so soon.

“yes, tomorrow,” i said firmly, “i have to fit you in between other students whenever i can, and if you want to pass, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. be here at eight.”

“eight a.m. or p.m.?”

i narrowed my eyes.

“got it. eight a.m.,” he said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. he begun to get up from his chair, slinging his bag over his shoulder before he paused, “actually…” he looked at me sheepishly, “i’ve got training from six-thirty until eight, can we meet here at eight-thirty?”

i scoffed and his face looked as if he regretted asking, “eight-fifteen, i can’t do any later. i’ve got training at nine-thirty.”

his eyes furrowed at my mention of ‘training’ but before he could ask any questions i continued, “goodnight, lando,” i said, and he nodded his head, beginning to walk out of the library.

“night, y/n.”

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° .• *₊ ° . *☆. °:

the cool night air hit me as i stepped outside the library, the faint hum of campus life echoing in the distance. a group of students passed by, their drunken laughter bouncing off the pavement as they stumbled around, but i barely noticed them. my thoughts were still tangled up in the unexpected turn my evening had taken.

lando norris. calculus. tutoring. it felt surreal, like i’d just stepped into someone else’s story for a moment.

i adjusted my bag on my shoulder and headed toward the front of the school where the large forever-open gates would lead me home.

the walk home wasn’t far—just ten minutes away from campus—but it gave me enough time to collect my thoughts. as i turned onto the street where i lived, the familiar weight of responsibility settled on my chest.

as i made it to the apartment building, i prepared myself for the three flights of stairs ahead of me—thanks to the elevator doors that still held the ‘out of service’ sign. i unlocked the door and stepped inside, greeted by the sound of soft giggles and the faint hum of the tv.

“y/n!”

my five-year-old brother, lukas, came barreling down the hallway, his tiny socks sliding across the hardwood floor. he launched himself into my arms, and i dropped my bag just in time to catch him.

“hey, buddy,” i said, ruffling his messy curls. “did you have a good night?”

he nodded enthusiastically. “we had chicken nuggets, and i beat the boss level in my game! liam helped me.”

i glanced up as liam, our neighbor’s teenage son and occasional babysitter, appeared in the doorway with a sheepish smile. “he insisted on showing me his video game skills,” liam said, shrugging. “and he was pretty good.”

“thanks for staying late,” i said, shifting lukas onto my hip.

“no problem. he’s a great kid,” liam replied, grabbing his backpack. “anything else you need?”

“no, we’re good. i’ll text you about next week,” i said as he headed out the door.

once it was just me and lukas, i carried him to the couch and set him down. “it’s bedtime,” i said, giving him a stern look.

“five more minutes?” he asked, his wide eyes pleading.

i sighed, already feeling the exhaustion from the day creeping in. “five minutes. then brush your teeth.”

lukas grinned, turning his attention back to the cartoon on the tv, while i went into the kitchen. the sink was full of dishes i hadn’t gotten to this morning, and there was a pile of unopened mail on the counter. i leaned against the counter and rubbed my temples, trying to ignore the growing list of things i needed to handle.

between my classes, tutoring, and my part-time job at the diner across from campus, i barely had enough hours in the day. add taking care of lukas to the mix, and it felt like i was constantly teetering on the edge of burnout. but i didn’t have a choice.

after mum died two years ago, it was just the two of us. dad hadn’t been in the picture for years—not that it mattered. i wasn’t about to let anyone else decide what happened to lukas. he was mine to protect now.

“y/n?” lukas’ small voice pulled me from my thoughts. he stood in the doorway, clutching his stuffed dinosaur.

“yeah, lukey?” i asked, straightening up.

“are you okay?”

i forced a smile. “of course. why wouldn’t i be?”

he tilted his head like he didn’t quite believe me. “you look sad.”

my chest tightened, but i crossed the room and knelt in front of him. “i’m not sad,” i said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “i’m just tired. but i’ll always have time for you, okay?”

“okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around my neck.

as i hugged him back, i thought about the crumpled bills in my wallet, the overdue rent notice i’d stuffed into my bag, and the tutoring session i’d somehow agreed to with lando norris.

i had no idea how i was going to balance everything, but for lukas, i had to, “let’s get you to bed, luke.”

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° .• *₊ ° . *☆. °:

— longer note ; ignore me starting a new series when i’ve only posted 3 chapters of my other series lollll umm sorry. anyways im so much more excited and motivated to write for this story so ‘packing it up’ can wait til im interested in her again im sorry.

— taglist ; im open to making one if anyone’s interested ahhahah

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woozinhos · 22 hours ago

Note

Hiiiiii okay so reader has a crush on mingyu and mingyu doesn’t care for her and wonwoo gets tired of her ass so he fucks her on mingyus bed ( ROUGHH) till all she can do is cry and scream ( he fucks her dumb basically)

Even on his bed I’m still better

Notes: stop why are all my fics so long today and why are they all hitting so good!

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

Juicy smut below the cut

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The atmosphere was lively and loud as you stood chatting with Mingyu at the party. He was his usual charming self, laughing and joking with you, but you couldn't help feeling a flutter of nerves every time he smiled at you. You had been nursing a crush on him for months, and every time you saw him, your heart would race. You couldn't shake the feeling that there was something between you two, even if he didn't seem to notice.

Wonwoo stood off to the side, watching the two of you with a growing sense of frustration. He had been trying to get your attention all night, but it seemed like you were too caught up in your conversation with Mingyu to notice him. Mingyu was polite and friendly, but you couldn't help but notice that he didn't seem to reciprocate your feelings. He laughed at your jokes and smiled at your attempts to flirt, but there was always a hint of detachment in his expression. You tried not to let it get to you, but deep down, it stung. You couldn't understand why he wasn't interested in you when you were so obviously smitten with him.

As the conversation with Mingyu continued, you found yourself growing more and more flustered. You tried to steer the conversation in a direction that would make him realize your feelings, but he remained oblivious. You felt a pang of jealousy as he joked with another girl nearby, laughing at something she said. Wonwoo's frustration only grew as he watched you pine after someone who clearly wasn't interested. Wonwoo finally couldn't take it anymore. He walked over to where you and Mingyu were standing and inserted himself into the conversation.

"Hey," he said, his voice firm. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" Mingyu looked a bit surprised at Wonwoo's interruption, but he nodded and stepped away to give you two some privacy. You followed Wonwoo to a quieter corner of the room, your heart racing with a mix of anticipation and nerves.

Once you were alone, Wonwoo turned to face you, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. "You need to stop," he said bluntly. "Stop flirting with Mingyu and wasting your time." You were taken aback by his bluntness, but you couldn't deny that a part of you had been expecting this conversation. "Why?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. "He's not interested, I know that, but I can't just give up." Wonwoo's frustration grew as he saw the stubborn look on your face.

"You're so blind," he said, his voice rising slightly. "Mingyu doesn't care about you like that, and you're just setting yourself up for heartbreak." You crossed your arms, defensive. "You don't know that," you retorted. "Maybe he just needs a little push." Wonwoo shook his head, clearly exasperated. "No, he doesn't. He's made it clear that he doesn't see you that way. You're just wasting your time chasing after someone who will never love you back."

His words stung, but you couldn't deny the truth in them. You had seen the way Mingyu acted around you, the way he never reciprocated your flirting or gave any indication that he was interested. But despite that, you still held onto hope that things could change. "Maybe I'm just being optimistic," you said quietly, looking down at the ground. Wonwoo couldn't hold back any longer. He stepped closer to you, his eyes burning with a mix of frustration and longing.

"No, you're being stubborn and stupid," he said, his voice firm but tinged with desperation. "Because I'm the one who loves you. I've been right here, watching you chase after someone who doesn't deserve you." Your eyes widened in surprise as his words sank in. You had never seen Wonwoo like this before, so raw and vulnerable. "What?" you whispered, your heart racing. "You...you love me?" Wonwoo nodded, his expression a mixture of relief and vulnerability.

"Yes," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've loved you for a long time, but I never said anything because I thought you were in love with Mingyu." Your mind was racing as you tried to process his confession. You had always thought of Wonwoo as a close friend, but you never considered the possibility that he felt something more for you. "Why didn't you say anything?" you asked, your voice shaking slightly. Wonwoo ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and defeated.

"I didn't want to ruin our friendship," he said. "I didn't want to risk losing you if you didn't feel the same way. So I kept quiet and watched you chase after someone who doesn't deserve you." Wonwoo looked at you with a mixture of hope and pleading in his eyes.

"Please," he said softly. "Give me a chance. I know I'm not perfect, but I'll do anything to make you happy. Just stop chasing after someone who doesn't appreciate you and let me show you how much I care." You were torn. On one hand, you had spent so long pining after Mingyu that it felt like giving up on him would be letting go of a part of yourself. But on the other hand, there was Wonwoo, standing in front of you, confessing his love and offering you a chance at something real.

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But all you saw was sincerity and longing. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the decision you were about to make. "Okay," you said quietly. "I'll give you a chance." Wonwoo's eyes lit up with hope and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Really?" he asked, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You mean it?" You nodded, a small smile of your own forming.

"Yeah, I mean it," you said. "I'm tired of chasing after someone who doesn't want me. I'm ready to give you a chance." Wonwoo's eyes darkened with a mix of desire and determination. "I want to show you how much I've been wanting you," he said, his voice low and seductive. "Will you let me?" You felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his voice. The way he was looking at you, as if you were the only person in the world, made your heart race with anticipation.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Show me." Wonwoo's grip on your wrist was firm as he led you upstairs, his strides long and purposeful. He didn't even hesitate as he opened the door to Mingyu's room and pulled you inside, closing the door behind him. The room was dark, with only the soft glow of a lamp illuminating the space. Wonwoo pressed you against the wall, his body flush against yours. He pinned you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body as he pressed his lips against your neck.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. Wonwoo's words were rough and possessive, his desire for you clear in his voice. He pulled back to look at you, his eyes burning with intensity. "Let me show you how much better I am than him," he repeated, his fingers tracing a path down your body. "Let me make you forget all about Mingyu." Wonwoo smirked as he continued to press you against the wall, his hands moving lower and lower down your body.

"Even on his bed, I'll still be better," he whispered in your ear, his voice dripping with confidence. "I'll make you scream my name and forget all about that idiot." Wonwoo pushed you onto the bed, his body following closely behind. He hovered over you, his eyes raking over your body with a possessive hunger. "You're mine now," he growled, his hands roaming over your curves. "No more Mingyu, no more thinking about anyone else but me."

"Yes," you gasped out, your breath catching in your throat as he continued to touch you. "I'm yours. Only yours." Wonwoo's lips curled into a satisfied smirk at your words. He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth and exploring every inch. As he kissed you, his hands continued to roam over your body, his touch growing more urgent and possessive with each passing moment.

Wonwoo broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. He nipped and sucked at your skin, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. "You have no idea how long I've dreamed of having you like this," he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire. "All mine, writhing and moaning beneath me." Wonwoo's hands made quick work of the fabric of your dress, slowly revealing more and more of your skin. He pushed the material down your body, his eyes drinking in every inch of you as it fell to the floor.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns across your bare skin. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to see you like this." Wonwoo tossed his t-shirt aside, revealing his toned chest and muscular arms. He looked down at you with a hungry expression, his eyes roaming over your body.

"You're perfect," he said, his voice rough with desire. "I can't believe I almost let you slip away from me." He leaned down, his body pressing against yours, his skin hot against yours. You could feel his hardness pressing against you through his jeans, and he let out a low growl of frustration.

"I need you," he said, his lips finding your ear. "Now."

Wonwoo's hands moved to the waistband of your panties, his fingers tracing the edge teasingly. "Lift your hips for me," he commanded, his voice firm and commanding. You obeyed his command, lifting your hips off the bed. Wonwoo slowly pulled your panties down your legs, his eyes fixed on the sight of your exposed body.

"You're even more beautiful than I imagined," he said, his voice low and husky. "And all mine."

"Get on your hands and knees," Wonwoo commanded, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to take you from behind."

"I'm sorry, but I need to show you what you've been missing," Wonwoo repeated, his voice filled with a mix of apology and determination. "You deserve to feel pleasure like you've never felt before." You slowly got onto your hands and knees, your body trembling with anticipation. As you presented yourself to Wonwoo, you felt a mix of vulnerability and excitement coursing through your veins. You could feel the heat of his gaze on your body, his eyes roaming over every curve and contour. You could sense the tension in the air, the unspoken promise of pleasure that was about to be fulfilled. Wonwoo positioned himself behind you, his hands running over your back and down to your hips. He leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back as he whispered in your ear.

"You have no idea how beautiful you look like this," he said, his breath hot against your skin. "All mine, ready and waiting for me." He trailed his lips down your spine, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. His hands continued to explore your body, his touch growing more confident and possessive. "I'm going to make you feel so good," he promised, his voice low and seductive. "I'm going to make you forget everything but my name." Wonwoo slowly pushed himself inside you, filling you up inch by inch. He let out a low groan of pleasure as he bottomed out, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice strained. "You feel so good. So tight and perfect." Wonwoo set a punishing pace, his thrusts hard and rough as he pounded into you from behind. Each movement was filled with purpose, as if he was determined to erase any memory of Mingyu from your mind. He leaned forward, his chest pressed against your back, his lips finding the nape of your neck. He bit down gently, marking you as his own. As you arched your back, pushing your body against him, Wonwoo's grip on your hips tightened. He adjusted his angle, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you with every thrust.

"You're so good for me," he panted, his voice thick with pleasure. "Taking me so well, just like you were made for me." Wonwoo tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back slightly. The sudden sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and you moaned loudly in response. "That's it," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening. "I want to hear you moan for me. I want everyone to know who you belong to."

"Scream my name," Wonwoo commanded, his voice rough and dominant. "Let everyone know who's making you feel this way." As he continued to pound into you, his thrusts growing faster and harder, you couldn't hold back any longer. The pleasure was too much, and you screamed his name. "Wonwoo!" you cried out, your voice echoing through the room. Wonwoo's grip on your hair loosened as he heard you scream his name, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. "That's it, baby," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You're mine. Say it again."

"I'm yours, Wonwoo," you panted, your voice ragged with pleasure. "I'm all yours." He growled in response, his thrusts becoming more urgent and desperate. He was close, and he wanted you to come undone for him. "Say it again," he demanded, his fingers digging into your hips. "I need to hear you say it one more time."

"I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours," you chanted, the words spilling from your lips like a mantra. You could feel your orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tight in your core.

"That's it," Wonwoo groaned, his voice strained. "Come for me, baby. Come for me and I'll give you everything." You felt your body tense, your muscles coiling tightly as your orgasm washed over you. You cried out Wonwoo's name, your body shaking with the force of your release. Wonwoo followed soon after, his own climax crashing over him as he thrust into you one final time. He buried his face in your neck, his body shuddering against yours as he came deep inside you. Wonwoo's thrusts slowed as he rode out his orgasm, his body trembling against yours. He held you close, his arms wrapping around you as he caught his breath.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "You're amazing. I don't think I've ever felt that good before."

Wonwoo carefully pulled out of you and rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were lying on top of him. He traced lazy patterns on your back, his fingers skimming over your skin. “I'm never letting you go," he murmured, his voice filled with possessiveness. "You're mine, forever." Wonwoo reached over and grabbed a blanket, pulling it over the two of you. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you snuggled into his chest.

"We should stay like this for a while," he said, his voice sleepy. "Just us, no one else."

"That was...incredible," you murmured, your voice soft and dreamy. "You were incredible."

All of a sudden the door swung open and Mingyu walked in, stopping in his tracks as he took in the sight of you and Wonwoo lying together on his bed, wrapped up in each other. His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment he just stood there, speechless. Mingyu's eyes darted around the room, taking in the scattered clothes and the obvious signs of what had just happened. He looked back at you and Wonwoo, his expression a mix of shock and anger.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, his voice sharp. Wonwoo smirked, his arms tightening around you as he spoke.

"Just showing her what she's been missing, that's all," he said casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "And I must say, she's been enjoying herself quite a bit."

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