#and that he's like HOW CAN I HELP TELL ME HOW I CAN HELP
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
rafesangelita · 3 days ago
Text
⊹₊⟡⋆♡ cowboy!rafe always snuck into farmer's!daughter!reader's room to give her a goodnight kiss.. but what happens when their innocent little kiss turns into something much more?
warnings: sweet fluff, flirty banter, brief flashback, daddy kink lol, sneaking around, unprotected sex, dirty talk, rafe covering your mouth, crying, overstimulation
a/n: i’ll be opening req’s soon! lately here i’ve been wanting to get out some of my own prompts since over half of my works are all req’s.. but i’m excited to see what you girlies send me! find more of farmer’s!daughter!reader and cowboy!rafe here <3
wc: 1.2k
Tumblr media
“open up, doll face.” you sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as rafe lightly tapped on your window. he made you so giddy, you scrambled up from the warmth of your sheets, unlocking the hatch before helping him climb in. “i thought you weren’t coming..” you whispered, pouting up at him as he snickered. “y’gotta have faith in me, sweetheart. when have i missed a goodnight’s kiss?” rafe cupped your face, both of you smiling against each other’s lips before melting into one another.
you always felt so warm and fuzzy inside when you and rafe got to share your secret little moments together, the simplicity of just being together without having to worry about someone catching you two made both of your hearts swell. rafe knew how to sweep you off your feet with a single kiss, a string of giggles tumbling from your mouth as he not-so-quietly threw you onto your bed. “rafe!” you scolded him, your heart beating in your ears as he slotted himself between your thighs.
“my daddy is next door! what if he hears..” you slapped his chest playfully, the man above you arching a brow. “daddy? i thought i was your daddy.” your cheeks heated in embarrassment when you recalled the quickie you two had in the barn not too long ago. rafe had you bent over a hay bale, his thrusts making you unable to speak until he asked you the golden question.
“hmmph! fuckin’ say it. tell me what i wanna hear, who’s your fuckin’ daddy?”
taking your bottom lip between your teeth, rafe smiled as he shook his head down at you. “you just thought about it, didn’t you?” snapping you out of your flashback daze, you laughed when he leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to the column of your throat. he smelled like soap, the slight stubble on his cheeks tickling your skin. as if your hips had a mind of their own, you grinded your clothed cunt against rafe’s thigh, a whimper leaving your lips at the lack of friction.
“hey,” rafe cupped your tits through your flimsy night top, “you thought i wasn’t coming tonight, right? that’s what you said.” your eyebrows knitted in confusion before a gasp slipped from your mouth. “yes..” rafe trailed a hand underneath the waistband of your sleep shorts. “so why don’t you have any panties on?” you froze, eyes flickering down to where rafe ran a finger between your folds. keening, you couldn’t help the moan from leaving your lips.
rafe stared at you for a moment, his eyes growing dark as he clamped a hand over your mouth. “i’ve been thinking about this pussy all day. ‘think you can stay quiet for me?” of course you couldn’t.. and rafe knew that. you stared at him with wide eyes, butterflies fluttering in your tummy when he took himself out of his pants. “i mean it. we don’t want your old man chasing me down with that shotgun of his, now do we?” you shook your head, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt the head of his cock prod at your entrance.
you shrieked, his hips rolling into yours as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt. if it wasn’t for rafe’s hand muffling your scream you’re sure both of you would be in deep trouble right now. rafe rested his head on your pillow, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he started thrusting. feeling his weight on top of you like this had easily become your favorite thing, the closeness of it all made your heart sing. “fuck, i could never get used to this.. ‘feels like the first time all the time.” he grunted.
you held onto his wrist, your thighs hugging his waist as he kissed the side of your face. “taking me so fuckin’ good, you were made for me, yeah?” you whined, your eyes watering as rafe continuously hit that soft spot inside of you. your headboard started hitting the wall, a smirk gracing your boyfriend’s features. “rafe!” you whispered, tearing his hand away from your face. “s-slow down!” you attempted to push him away while simultaneously trying to keep your noises to yourself.
rafe picked up his pace, wrapping a hand around your throat. “can’t..” you shook your head, your chest rising and falling as the knocking of your headboard only got louder. rafe cursed under his breath when you cried out, working fast to get you turned over so he could push your head into the pillows. “what did i tell you?!” he scolded, landing a smack to your ass. you didn’t have any time to react to the stinging sensation on your backside, your orgasm washing over you once rafe started stroking your clit.
you fisted the sheets underneath you, biting down on your lip as white hot pleasure blinded your vision. rafe made no attempt to soothe you, instead he wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling you up as he nipped at the sensitive skin in the curve of your neck. “sweetheart?” you gasped when your father’s voice sounded from the other side of your bedroom door. you cleared your throat, frozen in place as your door knob rattled. “answer him.” rafe spoke in your ear, his tone sending a shiver down your spine.
“what?!” you stammered, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks as rafe continued to rub hard circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “answer him or i’ll make you scream.” you wanted to shoot a sassy ‘you already did’, but you didn’t dare chance it. your chin wobbled, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. “y-yes?!” you called out, glaring at rafe over your shoulder when the sound of his hips slamming into you bounced off of the walls. “you alright in there?” you bit the back of your hand, your head falling weakly.
“is this a girl thing or somethin’, should i call your aunt?” your cheeks heated, a chuckle sounding from the man behind you. “no! i’m o-okay!” rafe pulled your hair again, his lips close to your ear as he whispered the dirtiest things you’ve ever heard. “what would your pops think, huh? catching his perfect little angel getting fucked like this..” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your knees slipping out from under you when rafe pushed you flat on your sheets.
“alright.. goodnight!” you ignored your father’s voice, the only thing your brain allowing you to process was rafe cumming inside of you, his fingers digging harshly into the flesh of your hips. “shittt,” he hissed, “son of a— fuck!” it was his turn to cover his mouth, his muscles constricting as you practically milked him for all he had. you reveled in the feeling of his hot cum filling you up, the thick ropes still connecting you two even after he pulled out.
you sighed, both you and rafe panting in the small space that was your room. “you okay, doll?” rafe kneeled down at your side, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips. blinking at him, you nodded before pulling him next to you. “it’s really late..” you yawned, glancing at the little clock on your bedside table. “i know.” rafe grumbled. there was nothing he hated more than having to leave you like this. wrapping his arms around your waist, rafe waited until you fell asleep slipping out of your window again.
1K notes · View notes
tbaluver · 2 days ago
Text
his necklace- sylus x reader
Tumblr media
pairing: sylus x fem! reader cw: MDNI ,p in v genre: smut + drabble a/n: i saw a post of someone saying imagine his necklace dangling over you while he's on top of you and i dunno where it went bc my feed REFRESHED so it's inspo from that as well and from the new four star memory ! enjoy reading ! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
Tumblr media
you looked so perfect like this you’re a babbling and moaning mess, splayed out below him. your adorable whines that escape your lips that begged for more and motivates him to help you get off. and who is he to say no to your plea?
fuck if he could stay in like this forever he would. a picture or a video of you two fucking wouldn’t compare to what he’s feeling right now. he doesn’t want to leave the warmth of your pussy. you were so warm, so soft and your walls fluttered him so perfectly.
he held your hand in his while his cock stretched you out, lowering himself down on you everytime you whimpered or moaned out for him. “that’s it, such a pretty girl” he coos, his thumb caressing your soft skin, soothing you as he watches you become more of a mess under him.
you're underneath him, seeing all of his muscles flex as his necklace dangles over your face. his chain, bouncing with each thrust into you. that necklace. one of the jewelry he ones that he treasures, only a few could ever own. your name engraved on it so wherever he goes, a part of you is with him always.
his brow was creased and lined with sweat. his face was knotted in concentration and pleasure to get you both to reach your high again. his sweat rolling down to your body, but you don’t mind. both of you were lightly glistening with each other's sweat while your skin was littered with his soft kisses.
his hands, still entwined with yours, pressed yours further into the mattress as he sped up his thrusts. he let out a breathy chuckle followed along with a smirk seeing your cock drunk face, drool sliding down the corners of your mouth.
with a quick, yet passionate kiss and a violent jerk of his hips, hot and creamy spurts of his cum fills you to the brim. your legs are shaking, his cum dripping down your inner thighs as you cum for who knows what round this was. neither of you were counting.
“i know i know, you did so well for me sweetie,” your eyelids are heavy with exhaustion, and sylus can tell. “let me clean you up baby.” he hums, leaving your side for a moment and returning with your favorite shirt of his as he softly cleans the mess between your thighs.
the smell of him will never leave you from how often he’s always on you. and that’s exactly how he would want it, he wouldn’t want it any other way.
Tumblr media
981 notes · View notes
edenesth · 3 days ago
Text
ATEEZ as Hogwarts Students
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing(s): hogwarts student!ateez x hogwarts student!reader
Word Count: 9.8k
A/N: Oh my gosh, thank you all so much for helping me reach 2.3k followers! To celebrate this, I'm back again with another one of these! Once again, special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for helping me confirm which houses some of the members should be in💘
ATEEZ MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
Hongjoong ↠ Gryffindor
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Poor Prefect That Nobody Takes Seriously
"I swear to god, if I see another damn chocolate frog loose in the dorm, I'll—" Before Hongjoong could even finish, a cheeky first-year passing by stuck his tongue out at him. "What are you gonna do? Run off to cry to Professor McGonagall again?"
The seventh-year's jaw dropped, his blood pressure spiking, but the kid was gone before he could even scold him. Two years—he'd been a prefect for almost two years now, and still, no one ever took him seriously. Thinking back to his early days as an optimistic prefect, eager to bring order and discipline to his rowdy housemates, he knew now how impossible that dream was.
But was he going to stop trying?
Not a damn chance.
Hongjoong had chosen to become a prefect the very moment he was eligible in his fifth year. Professors had always praised him as reliable, a natural-born leader, and he'd believed that wholeheartedly. He'd pictured himself bringing order to his dormitory, respected by his housemates for his efforts to keep things in line. But the reality? Gryffindors, as he was learning, could be a lot harder to control than he ever expected.
Unfortunately, his "small but mighty" reputation didn't exactly translate into authority. He'd start off with a firm tone, reminding them of the rules, only to watch them twist his words into a rallying cry for their next scheme. His attempts at seriousness somehow only fueled their chaotic Gryffindor spirits, making him seem more like a mascot for daring antics than a figure of discipline.
While the academic staff continued to commend his commitment, his classmates saw him as the "cool" prefect—the one who'd cover for them more often than not, a little too forgiving to actually be feared. Some nights, he'd even find himself dragged into the very pranks he was supposed to be preventing, swept up by the contagious energy of his friends.
Despite everything, Hongjoong couldn't bring himself to truly give up. Every morning, he'd tell himself that today was the day he'd put his foot down, that he'd be the prefect his professors always said he could be. He knew the odds weren't in his favour, but in true Gryffindor fashion, he wasn't about to back down from the challenge.
Today's the day—I can feel it in my bones.
Letting out a determined breath, Hongjoong's gaze fixed on the notice board, now littered with doodles, silly notes, and questionable "decorations." With a purposeful nod, he crossed his arms and cleared his throat, catching the attention of the Gryffindors lounging around the common room. "Forget the frogs then. How many times have I told you all not to vandalise the notice board with your nonsense? It's used solely for—"
"For important announcements. Yes, we get it," piped up a cheeky third-year, eyes glinting with mischief. "But there are no announcements at the moment, so is it really so bad if we, y'know, decorate a little?"
And there it was again—the quick responses that left him speechless every time. Hongjoong tried to keep his expression stern, but a tiny part of him could almost see their point. Was it so bad to have a bit of fun? No, he reminded himself, that's not the point. But as he felt his resolve waver, he knew a miracle wasn't going to happen today. Why couldn't he be both firm and likeable, just like—
"Oh, so you want to test if it's bad?" your voice cut through, sharp but calm, as you stepped down from the spiral staircase. You'd been listening long enough to hear their usual defiance, and you were not about to let them undermine your boyfriend's authority. "How about we invite the professors to take a look at your 'artwork' and see how much they'd appreciate it, hm?"
Like you.
Hongjoong released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, grateful for your support. You, with your knack for balancing authority and approachability, were everything he wished he could be as a prefect. If he could just learn how to be firm, like you, maybe Gryffindor's antics would finally come under control.
"You heard her," he added, finding a bit of confidence again as he nodded in agreement. "Clean it up. Now."
The students exchanged glances, sighing as they reluctantly began peeling off the doodles. He couldn't help but grin a little as he glanced your way.
"Thanks, babe," he mouthed.
You shook your head, smiling as you nodded toward the remaining Gryffindors lounging around. "I'm heading to the Great Hall first. I'll leave it to you to get everyone to breakfast on time, Joong. Think you can handle it?"
Hongjoong nodded enthusiastically, eager to make you proud. "You bet. They're going to see a whole new Prefect Kim this year," he declared confidently.
You laughed, both amused and a bit sceptical. He'd nearly caved to their antics just moments ago, but that was part of his charm. You loved how different he was from you—how he helped you loosen up when you were too serious, just as you helped him stay firm when he got a little too lenient. Together, you two were like yin and yang, balanced and perfectly matched, as everyone in the house always teased.
Squeezing his hand, you gave him a playful smile. "Show 'em, tiger," you winked before turning to leave, catching a glimpse of his cheeks turning pink.
The moment you were out of sight, the common room burst into whistles and smirks around him. Snapping out of his trance, your boyfriend rolled his eyes, trying to keep his composure.
"Alright, folks," he called out, clapping his hands. "You heard my girl. Let's cooperate for once and head to the Great Hall on time—don't make me disappoint her!"
The Gryffindors grinned, shuffling toward the door without a fuss, eager to play along. He smirked, pleased with their obedience whenever you were mentioned. Maybe he'd always need your presence to keep this difficult crowd in line, but he didn't mind at all. He knew they didn't have to fear him for him to be a good prefect. Deep down, he knew they all adored him, and he was pretty sure that, rule-breaking aside, they wouldn't truly make things difficult for him. They just loved teasing him—because, honestly, he might just be their favourite prefect.
Seonghwa ↠ Hufflepuff
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Goody Two Shoes and Teacher's Pet
"Oh, Seonghwa, my boy! What brings you here on a weekend? Shouldn't you be off enjoying Hogsmeade with your girlfriend?" Professor Sprout asked, pleasantly surprised as her star student stepped into the greenhouse, notebook in hand. The seventh-year smiled brightly, giving her a respectful nod before approaching.
"Good afternoon, Professor! I just came by to check on my mandrake—I'm determined to cultivate one to maturity for my latest Restorative Draught. And, uh… my girlfriend, she'll be here to join me soon," he added, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks turning pink at the mention of you.
Professor Sprout's expression softened, a smile touching her lips. "You're too hard working for your own good, both of you," she gently chided, pride swelling as she glanced at the Hufflepuff sigil pinned proudly on his denim jacket. Even on a day when house representation wasn't required, Park Seonghwa wore his Hufflepuff loyalty openly, reminding everyone where his heart belonged. She knew he had a bright future ahead, and if she were to ever consider early retirement, he would be her top choice to take over as the next Herbology professor.
As if on cue, you pushed open the greenhouse doors and stepped inside. "Hwa, are you here already?" you called, glancing around before your eyes landed on your boyfriend and Professor Sprout.
Seonghwa, who'd been focused on his mandrake, looked up at the sound of your voice, a soft smile lighting up his face. In the presence of authority, he resisted the urge to rush over and hug you, his restraint both endearing and unmistakable. You bit back a laugh, amused by his adorable attempt at composure.
"Oh! Good afternoon, Professor!" you greeted, nodding respectfully. "Are we disturbing you? We can come another day if you need the greenhouse for your work."
She smiled warmly, waving off your concern. "Not at all, dearie. I was just on my way out. You two enjoy your little date," she added with a knowing wink. "And if you're in the mood for a treat, there are some extra Every Flavour Beans on the top shelf—please help yourselves."
"Thank you, Professor!" you and Seonghwa chimed in unison, exchanging a look of warmth and shared gratitude. As the elderly woman left, he gently took your hand, pulling you close enough to place a soft kiss on your forehead. You leaned into him with a contented sigh. "How embarrassing—now she's certain we're dating," you murmured, unable to hide your own smile.
He chuckled, his eyes dancing with affection. "Is that such a terrible thing, love? Maybe it's time the whole world knows you're mine."
You gasped in mock scandal, playfully nudging his shoulder. "How improper," you laughed, but a blush crept into your cheeks. Though you'd never formally announced your relationship, it was hardly a secret—everyone must have guessed by now with all the time you spent together. But for the sake of his reputation as the model student, you'd both kept things understated, not feeling the need to broadcast your love. Now, though, there was a new spark in his eyes, a hint of the Slytherin heritage running through his veins, as if he suddenly wanted the world to see what his heart had always known.
Seonghwa, after all, was the first Hufflepuff in a long line of Ravenclaws and Slytherins—a surprise his family hadn't quite anticipated. But their surprise had never bothered him. Instead, it had only strengthened his resolve to prove that Hufflepuff was as noble and worthy as any other house. Consistently at the top of his class in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, he'd gained the admiration of professors for his quiet dedication and high moral standards. Always the first to lend a hand to new students or submit his assignments, he was as dependable as they came.
Yet as much as he wanted to honour his house and his achievements, his heart now longed for something deeper. For the first time, he wanted his family—and everyone else—to see you, the one who had believed in him through every challenge and celebrated every victory, who had loved him exactly as he was. He knew that letting you into his life so openly would be the proudest badge he could ever wear.
"So," he began, biting his lip as he shifted his focus from the mandrake to you, who was busily jotting down notes about its latest growth. "Should we spend some time in Hogsmeade after this?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant, and your eyes widened slightly, your actions faltering as you locked gazes with him.
"You're joking, right? All our friends are there—" you started, but he shook his head, his expression earnest. "I'm serious, love."
The weight of his words sank in, and you realised he wasn't joking at all. A rush of emotions washed over you. "I... I don't know why it took me so long, but I don't want to hide my feelings for you anymore. I want to openly show my affection and be like every other couple in school. It's already our seventh year, and we haven't even been on a proper date. Can we make this the first of many more? Would you like to... go on a date with me?"
Placing your pen down, you blinked, your heart racing at his sincere proposal. This was a big step. Once the truth was out in the open, there would be no turning back—everyone, including his family, would know about you two. But as you looked into his eyes, you felt a rush of warmth. If he was ready for it, then so were you. You knew he would always protect you, no matter what.
With a shy smile, you nodded, feeling butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Thought you'd never ask."
His face broke into a radiant grin, and the world around you seemed to melt away. Seonghwa stepped closer, allowing your head to rest against his shoulder, enveloped in the warmth of his presence like a cosy blanket. "I can't wait," he murmured softly.
"Me too," you replied, a wave of excitement bubbling in your chest.
In that greenhouse, surrounded by vibrant plants and warm sunlight, you both felt the first tender blooms of something beautiful—a love that was finally ready to thrive in the open, with all the joy and light that came with it.
Yunho ↠ Hufflepuff
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Popular Triwizard Champion
"Well? Have you managed to figure out the next task, golden boy?"
Yunho's head snapped around at the sound of your voice, his wide eyes betraying his surprise. Before he could respond, a few stray water droplets from his damp hair splashed onto you, drawing a squeal from your lips.
"Oh no! Angel, I'm so sorry!" he stammered, hastily brushing at your sleeve, his genuine concern making you laugh. He held the golden egg tightly, now safely shut after his latest round of inspections. "But seriously, what are you doing here? You'll be in trouble if anyone finds you sneaking into the prefect's bathroom!"
You snorted, though your heart melted at the way his brows knitted with worry. "Well, I could say the same for you, Yuyu. You're not a prefect either," you quipped with a grin.
He chuckled, the sound echoing in the steamy room as he swam closer to where you sat at the edge of the bath, your legs lazily dangling in the water. Gently, he set the golden egg beside you, then rested his arms on your thighs, gazing up at you with a playful smirk.
"The difference is, I'm a Triwizard Champion," he teased, his grin widening, "and you're not."
Rolling your eyes, you booped his nose with a finger, earning a soft laugh from him. "True, I'm not," you replied, sticking your tongue out cheekily. "But I am your girlfriend, so that grants me a special privilege, doesn't it?"
Yunho's gaze softened as he beamed up at you, water glistening on his face like tiny jewels. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice warm and affectionate. "It definitely does."
With a tender smile, you reached out to brush the water from his face, gently pushing his damp hair back from his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when he instinctively leaned into your touch, his warmth grounding you despite the growing tension in your chest.
"You haven't answered me yet," you reminded him softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Have you figured out the answer to the second task?"
He nodded, his hand lifting to cover yours on his cheek, holding it in place as though it anchored him. He gave your fingers a soft, reassuring squeeze. "I have," he murmured, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. "But... I don't want you to freak out. Everything's going to be okay, I promise."
Despite his comforting tone, the knot in your stomach tightened. You tried to mask it with a cheeky smile, nudging him lightly with your foot in the water. "Suuure, Yuyu. I totally believe you when you say these tasks will get easier. I mean, it's not like the first one involved dragons or anything."
Your boyfriend sighed, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. You knew he was thinking about the moment his name had been announced as the Hogwarts champion—the wave of fear that had gripped you as the Great Hall erupted in cheers.
He had submitted his name on a whim, more as a joke than anything. He hadn't thought for a second he'd actually be chosen. But of course, you should've known better. He was Jung Yunho—the school's golden boy. Everyone adored him, from his endless optimism to his natural charm. He could light up any room he walked into and never turned away anyone in need. His wild card selection had shocked everyone, but he had embraced it with the same unshakable enthusiasm he brought to everything in life.
For him, the Triwizard Tournament was an adventure, a chance to make memories and new friends. For you, it was a constant worry. You knew the dangers far too well, and it terrified you. Still, when he had emerged victorious after the first task, his joy had been contagious, and you told yourself you had to let your fear go. You couldn't hold him back from greatness. He needed your support, and you were determined to be the girlfriend he deserved.
Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips, hoping it would reassure him as much as it did you. "Alright," you whispered, brushing your thumb along his jaw. "So tell me. What's the second task?"
Before you could pull away, he held onto you, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his forehead against yours. His voice softened, steady but laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed.
"The Black Lake," he said quietly. "I... I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, but the conviction in his eyes made you hold your ground. Whatever this task demanded, you knew one thing for sure: you'd face it together.
And his predictions couldn't have been more accurate—he and the champions from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had an hour to retrieve something that had been stolen from them from the merpeople's village beneath the Black Lake.
The lake was eerily silent, its surface shimmering under the overcast sky as Yunho broke through the water, gasping for air. His strong arms cradled you protectively, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. The tension that had gripped him since the start of the task finally began to ease now that you were safe in his embrace.
You coughed violently, expelling the icy water from your lungs, your breaths coming in sharp, shallow bursts. The fragments of what had happened began piecing themselves together in your mind—the haunting stillness of the underwater village, the muffled echo of water all around, and your boyfriend's words from the prefect's bathroom resurfacing with a jarring clarity: "I have a feeling I'm going to need you to get through this task."
He had been right.
The task wasn't just about retrieving an object of value—it was about recovering the most precious thing stolen from them.
For Yunho, that had been you.
"Oh thank god, you're alright," he murmured, his voice thick with relief as he guided you onto the shore. The cheers and applause from the crowd were a distant hum in the background, drowned out by the pounding of his heart. Grabbing a towel, he draped it over your shoulders, enveloping you in its warmth before pulling you close. His arms wrapped around you securely, as though anchoring you back to him and shielding you from the chill that clung to the air.
You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, his familiar scent grounding you amidst the chaos of the moment. Despite the lingering cold, a soft smile crept onto your lips. Your voice, though weak, carried an unwavering sincerity. "How could I not be? You'll always save me… my hero."
His grip on you tightened at your words, his heart swelling with emotion as he buried his face in your hair. "Always," he whispered, his voice steady but laced with the weight of his promise. "Now I understand how hard it is for you to worry about me. I promise I'll make it out alive, every time—for you."
The announcement of his second-place finish barely registered. Everything seemed insignificant in the face of what truly mattered. All that filled his mind was the undeniable fact that you were safe, right here in his arms—the one person he cared for most.
Yeosang ↠ Ravenclaw
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Annoying Ace
"Hey, Kang! What'd you get for Potions? There's no way you aced it this time—it was brutal, and you barely studied before the test," a fellow Ravenclaw called out, pulling Yeosang from his thoughts. He glanced up, a small, nonchalant smile gracing his lips as he held up his graded paper. "You're right, it was tough. I only got an A- this time."
The room fell silent. His classmates stared at him, their jaws nearly hitting the floor. Was he serious? Most of the class had barely scraped by, even after endless hours of revision. Seventh-year Potions was no joke, filled with the most complex and challenging formulas known to the wizarding world.
"Only an A-? Are you kidding me? Did you bribe the professor or something?" someone blurted out, their voice tinged with disbelief.
You, seated next to your boyfriend, shot them a sharp glare. "Say that again in front of Professor Slughorn. I dare you," you retorted, crossing your arms.
The student huffed indignantly, muttering under their breath. "Whatever. You probably cheated with Felix Felicis or something."
Before you could unleash another scathing comeback, Yeosang gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his calm demeanour soothing your rising temper. His ever-composed smile didn't waver as he addressed the accusation. "Well," he began, his voice light but laced with quiet confidence, "if we were skilled enough to brew the Liquid Luck flawlessly and effectively, wouldn't that alone prove we deserve our grades?"
The remark landed with perfect precision, leaving everyone speechless. They knew he had a point. Brewing the luck potion wasn't just difficult—it was borderline impossible for most, requiring six months of meticulous preparation and risking catastrophic failure if done even slightly wrong.
The room buzzed with unspoken thoughts. If you and Yeosang could pull off such a feat, would the Potions exam have been challenging for either of you?
Your lips quirked into a satisfied smile as you exchanged a glance with your boyfriend. That was just like him—always shutting down his doubters with quiet brilliance, never needing to raise his voice to prove his worth.
"Man, I really need to learn how to be as effortlessly cool as you," you teased, giving his shoulder a playful nudge as he led you by the hand out of the classroom and toward the courtyard for some fresh air.
He glanced at you, his usual relaxed grin softening into something fonder. "You're already the coolest person to me," he replied casually as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you lightly smacked his arm, looking away as you bit your lip to hide the spreading blush. Even now, you could hardly believe he had accepted your confession back then—and that he was now your boyfriend. To you, he had always seemed so distant, so untouchable, like a star out of reach.
That was, until the day he noticed you struggling with a potion after class and offered to help. You hadn't known it at the time, but that small moment of kindness would lead to something far greater.
Yeosang is that Ravenclaw—the one who always seems lost in his thoughts yet somehow aces every test with ease, charming every professor in the process. He's the envy of his classmates, who burn the midnight oil studying while he effortlessly secures perfect scores. His calm, almost ethereal demeanour only adds to the intrigue, making him a bit of a mystery to everyone around him.
No one can figure out how he manages to zone out during Potions lessons and still brew flawless draughts, but they're too in awe (and slightly frustrated) to ask. It's just him—an enigma wrapped in quiet confidence, and somehow, he was yours.
"But seriously, Yeo, have you actually managed to perfect your luck potion? Don't think I didn't notice Professor Slughorn sneaking glances your way. He really did trust you to brew some for him, didn't he?" you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder, fingers gently squeezing his where they were intertwined with yours.
He hummed softly, the sound vibrating against you as he rested his head atop yours. With a flick of his wand, he cast a subtle charm to deflect a stray prank from a group of cheeky Gryffindors playing with products from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The spell stopped the flying object just before it could land anywhere near you. Your heart fluttered at his nonchalant protectiveness, and you couldn't help but notice the envious sighs from a few girls nearby.
"I'll answer that," he murmured, his tone teasing, "when you tell me how you managed to brew such a flawless Amortentia draught."
You blinked, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "The love potion? What are you talking about? I've never even tried to make one."
A small smile tugged at his lips, and he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Are you sure about that?"
You furrowed your brows, your confusion deepening. "Yes, I'm sure," you replied, your tone laced with scepticism. But before you could press him further, he leaned in and stole a quick kiss, leaving you gasping softly in surprise. Your hand flew to your lips, cheeks aflame as you tried to process what just happened.
Yeosang chuckled at your flustered reaction, his arm slipping securely around your back as he guided you to keep walking. "Then explain how you managed to make me so hopelessly enamoured with you," he said, his voice low but teasing. "It's the only logical explanation for how smitten I am."
"Oh, obviously. That's the only logical explanation," you burst out laughing, playfully trying to push him away, but he held firm, his grip steady yet gentle.
He chuckled along with you, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "Exactly, my love. You've clearly bewitched me, and I have no intention of breaking free."
"The feeling's mutual, my darling genius."
San ↠ Slytherin
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Intimidating Head Boy Who's Secretly a Softie
"Oh, come on, Pumpkin! When will you learn to leave the Monster Book of Monsters alone?!" San groaned in exasperation, his eyes following his mischievous cat as it darted around, narrowly avoiding the snapping Care of Magical Creatures textbook that was now chasing it across the yard. The naughty feline had somehow managed to unclasp the book—again. "Come here, you stubborn little thing!" he called, swooping in to scoop up the cat.
With practised ease, he approached the wild book, stroking its spine gently until it calmed and locked itself shut, just as Hagrid had taught. Of course, San was probably the only one who had actually paid attention to that particular lesson.
A dramatic gasp caught his attention, and he turned to find you standing nearby, a teasing grin plastered across your face.
"Well well, who would've thought? The scary and intimidating Choi San names his cat Pumpkin? And a cat, no less? I always pictured you with an owl or a crow. Guess you're a softie after all. Wait till the rest of the house finds out."
He rolled his eyes but smirked, settling back into his seat behind Hagrid's hut. "Go ahead and tell them, sweetheart. It's not like I asked anyone to see me as the 'mean and cold Slytherin.' If they want to believe that, then that's on them."
You chuckled and took a seat beside him, watching as he cooed at his cat and peppered it with kisses. "So, what's a big bad boy like you doing out here, hm?"
"Detention, obviously," he deadpanned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Fits my reputation, doesn't it?"
You shook your head knowingly, the corner of your lips curling upward. "If that's what you're calling it, sure. But Hagrid told me you were out here for some extra lessons on Hippogriffs when I passed him earlier."
He feigned a pout, resting his chin on Pumpkin's head. "Damn, you caught me. There goes my big bad boy image. Boohoo."
You burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.
San had always been an enigma to those around him. With his sharp, commanding presence and role as Head Boy, he had a reputation for being unapproachable. First-years practically scrambled out of his way in the corridors. But those who dared get to know him soon discovered that beneath the piercing gaze and confident swagger was a playful, caring soul who adored magical creatures.
And you? You were supposedly his rival—his female counterpart, according to your peers. With your equally composed demeanour and role as Head Girl, it wasn't uncommon for people to pit the two of you against each other. But those who looked closer would've seen the truth: you were far from rivals. If anything, you were two halves of the same warm, hidden flame, especially when it came to each other.
"Well, I hope you don't mind me joining you on your little detention, Choi," you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder.
He hummed thoughtfully, nuzzling his head against yours. "On one condition."
"And what's that?" you glanced up at him.
He bit his lip, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me take you to Hogsmeade this weekend, Head Girl."
"Alright, alright. None of that in my class," Hagrid's booming voice cut through the moment, startling both of you as you quickly pulled apart, clearing your throats in unison.
San shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck while you tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh.
Hagrid folded his massive arms across his chest, his bushy eyebrows raised knowingly. "We're only doing this if you're both serious, okay? This isn't some fun little date idea."
You nodded earnestly, though the corners of your lips twitched with amusement. "Of course, Professor. We're serious about this."
But Hagrid wasn't done.
Turning his attention to the Head Boy, he added, "But please, do take her to Hogsmeade, lad. I've heard more than enough from you about how much you like her."
San's eyes widened, his cheeks instantly flushing a deep crimson. "H-Hagrid!" he stammered, his voice a pitch higher than usual.
You couldn't hold it in anymore, bursting into laughter as he glared at you half-heartedly. "Oh, you're never living this down," you teased, nudging his arm.
"I—uh—yes, sir," he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he stared down at the ground, clearly flustered.
The professor chuckled, giving a hearty clap to the young man's shoulder that nearly made him stumble. "That's what I like to hear, Choi. Now, back to work, both of you. Those Hippogriffs aren't going to train themselves."
As Hagrid lumbered away, you leaned closer to San, grinning. "So, how much do you like me, Choi San?"
He groaned, his hands covering his face. "Can we just focus on the Hippogriffs?"
"Not a chance," you replied smugly, your laughter ringing out as his ears turned an even brighter shade of red.
The journey back to the common room was filled with quiet comfort, but as you both stepped through the entrance, his demeanour shifted instantly. Gone was the flustered boy from earlier; in his place stood the stoic and commanding Head Boy, his sharp gaze sweeping over the lounging students.
"Keep it down," he said curtly to a group of rowdy second-years, his tone leaving no room for argument. They immediately quieted, murmuring apologies.
You bit back a smile, watching his transformation with newfound amusement. After seeing the playful, gentle side of him during the lesson with Hagrid, this intimidating persona of his now seemed more endearing than imposing. It was his way of keeping the chaos in check, and you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he switched between the two sides of himself.
As you trailed behind him, snippets of hushed whispers reached your ears.
"Did they come back together?"
"Isn't that the Head Girl?"
"Are they… you know?"
You glanced at San and caught the slight gulp he tried to conceal, his stiff posture giving away his unease despite his poker face.
When you both reached the point where the dorms split, you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. He stood tall, keeping his expression neutral, though you could see the faintest flicker of nervousness in his eyes. The room fell silent, the curious gazes of your housemates fixed on the two of you.
You smirked, breaking the tension. "So, Hogsmeade this weekend, right?"
His eyes widened, and a soft gasp rippled through the common room. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure as he met your gaze. "You… accept?"
You shrugged nonchalantly, though the playful glint in your eyes betrayed your amusement. "Well, you did say I could only join you earlier if I agreed to this. Seeing as we've already finished the lesson, that clearly means I've accepted, no?"
For a moment, his carefully constructed mask faltered, replaced by a grin so wide and boyish that it made your heart skip a beat. He didn't care about the whispers anymore as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to give yours a gentle squeeze.
"It's a date then, Head Girl."
You smiled back, your voice light but teasing as you replied, "Sounds good, Head Boy."
The room erupted into murmurs and low cheers as you turned and walked toward your dorm, feeling his gaze follow you until you disappeared from sight. If San had been worried about his reputation before, it was clear now that he didn't care.
Not when it came to you.
Mingi ↠ Ravenclaw
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Son of a Famous Wizard Scientist
"Going somewhere, Song?"
Mingi cursed under his breath, reluctantly pulling the invisibility cloak off his frame to face you. You sat casually in one of the Ravenclaw common room chairs, a book in hand and an amused smirk playing on your lips. He looked thoroughly defeated. "How do you always figure me out?"
You chuckled, closing your book and setting it aside as you straightened up. "It's not that hard with your lack of stealth. I feel the breeze every time you pass by. Honestly, the real mystery is how Filch hasn't caught you yet."
He crossed his arms with a huff, a pout forming on his lips. "Ugh, what's it gonna take for you to pretend you didn't see me? My dad cannot find out. Name your price."
You tapped your chin, standing to your full height and eyeing the Marauder's Map in his hands. "I want in on whatever you're up to."
His brows shot up in surprise. "You? But aren't you like... the model Ravenclaw? Goody two shoes, follows every rule, reads for fun? Why would you risk your squeaky-clean image for something like this?"
You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Let's just say I'm curious about what the great wizard scientist's son is always sneaking off to do instead of, I don't know, living up to everyone's—and your father's—expectations."
He sighed in defeat, lifting his left arm to gesture for you to join him under the cloak. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. Just make sure you can keep up. And for Merlin's sake, please tell me your stealth skills are better than mine. You really don't want to run into Mrs. Norris."
"Trust me, I wouldn't dream of it," you replied, ducking under the cloak with him, your heart racing at the prospect of finally joining him on one of his adventures.
And so, that night marked the beginning of an unlikely yet thrilling partnership: you and Song Mingi, partners-in-crime navigating Hogwarts past curfew.
For someone as studious and rule-abiding as you, it was a surprising twist to find yourself sneaking through hidden passageways, clutching an invisibility cloak, and dodging prefects alongside someone like Mingi. But there was something irresistibly intriguing about him—the way he effortlessly balanced his rebellious streak with a sharp intellect, and how his lighthearted demeanour contrasted with the heavy expectations placed upon him.
You see, unlike your ordinary self, his life was all about finding his own path despite the pressures of his family name. As the son of a renowned wizarding scientist, expectations for him to follow in those illustrious footsteps were high. But Mingi? He wasn't interested in being defined by anyone else's legacy.
Sure, he had the smarts for it—his insights into magical theories often surprised you, even when they were thrown in casually during one of your late-night escapades. But instead of shouldering the weight of those expectations, he found joy in simply being himself. He explored magic for the sake of curiosity, not obligation.
Of course, it was hard for someone like him to truly fly under the radar. With his tall frame and infectious laugh, he had a knack for drawing attention no matter how much he tried to avoid it. He'd always play it off with an easy grin, though—effortlessly charming his way out of trouble (well, most of the time).
And now, here you were, walking beside him in the dead of night, laughing softly at his whispered commentary about the portraits on the walls. It was a side of him most people didn't see—carefree, thoughtful, and incredibly warm.
"Alright, where to next, partner?" you asked, barely containing your grin as you reached a fork in the corridor.
He glanced at the map, his finger tracing a path. "A secret stash of sweets hidden near the kitchens. Wanna check it out?"
"Only if you're willing to share," you teased, bumping his shoulder lightly.
He smirked, holding the cloak open as you ducked beneath it again. "Deal. But only because I need you to distract the house elves if we get caught."
With that, the two of you disappeared into the night, laughter echoing softly down the empty hallways. It was the start of a friendship, and perhaps something more that, against all odds, just worked.
On one of the slower days at school, the two of you lounged in the Great Hall, a wizard's chessboard between you. The usual hum of scattered conversations and the clinking of goblets provided a quiet backdrop as Mingi hunched over the board, his tall frame bent in concentration. His eyes darted between pieces, plotting his next move with a focus that made you smirk.
"I've got an idea," you said, leaning back with a teasing grin. "Whoever loses has to take on a dare during tonight's adventure."
His head shot up, a glimmer of intrigue lighting up his eyes. He grinned, his expression a mix of mischief and admiration for the rebellious streak you seemed to save just for him. "Oh, it's on."
The match stretched out with calculated moves and sly counters, both of you pouring focus into claiming victory. But when your queen finally cornered his king, you leaned back with a triumphant grin. "Checkmate," you declared, watching the realisation dawn on his face.
He groaned theatrically, throwing his head back. "Noooo!"
You laughed, folding your arms smugly. "Now, about that dare..."
He straightened in his seat, narrowing his eyes as he tried to guess your plan. "Alright, hit me with your worst."
A mischievous gleam danced in your eyes as you leaned forward and whispered, "Tonight, when we sneak out, you have to charm Moaning Myrtle with your best pickup lines."
His jaw dropped, his ears turning an amusing shade of red. "You want me to flirt with a ghost?!"
"That's the dare," you said, grinning wider.
He blinked at you in disbelief, then let out a booming laugh, shaking his head. "You're insane. But fine—a deal's a deal."
As the two of you packed up, you noticed a flicker of something softer in his gaze. He clearly enjoyed this side of you, the playful daring you didn't often let others see.
The night was quiet as you snuck through the dark hallways, huddled beneath the invisibility cloak. The close proximity made it impossible to ignore the way your shoulders brushed, or how you could feel his breath softly against your ear as he whispered directions. You tried to focus, but the warmth radiating from him and the faint smell of his cologne made it difficult.
He wasn't faring any better. His movements felt unusually cautious, his arm brushing against yours more often than necessary, his voice a little lower than usual when he whispered, "Careful where you step."
Ironically, it was his warning that broke your concentration. Your foot landed on something uneven, and before you could stop yourself, you tripped, sending a potted plant toppling from its perch.
The crash echoed loudly through the corridor. "What was that?!" Filch's voice screeched in the distance, sending panic shooting through you both.
"Move!" Mingi hissed, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the nearest room. The door creaked shut just as the school caretaker's hurried footsteps grew louder.
You realised, to your dismay, that the "room" was a cramped broom cupboard. The two of you were squished together in the small space, the invisibility cloak still draped awkwardly over your heads. Your breathing was ragged from the sudden sprint, and you both struggled to keep quiet as Filch's grumbling grew nearer.
"Stupid kids sneaking around… I'll catch them sooner or later," he muttered as his footsteps faded in the opposite direction.
Only when the sound of his boots disappeared entirely did you dare to speak. "We're safe now," you whispered.
"Yeah," Mingi murmured back, his voice quieter than usual.
That's when you noticed just how close you were. Your heart stuttered as you looked up, your nose grazing his. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and shallow, mingling with your own. Neither of you moved, the air between you was charged and heavy.
He swallowed hard, his hand slowly brushing against yours beneath the cloak. "I know I lost the game," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But... is it alright if I flirt with someone else tonight?"
Your breath caught, your thoughts spinning as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing yours.
"That depends on who it is," you whispered back, your voice shaky.
He smiled softly, his eyes flicking between yours and your lips. "You."
Your heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, your hand slid up to grip the collar of his shirt as you murmured, "Fine."
Then, closing the final distance, you pressed your lips to his. When you finally pulled away, the world felt different as you stayed close, foreheads touching. He let out a soft chuckle, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Best dare I've ever lost."
You smiled. "Guess I'll have to keep challenging you then, Song."
"Guess you will," he whispered, leaning in for another kiss.
Wooyoung ↠ Gryffindor
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Talented Quidditch Beater
"Woo, you got it! That's my boy!"
The sound of your voice rang out across the pitch, instantly catching Wooyoung's attention. A grin lit up his face as he turned mid-flight on his Nimbus 2000, his eyes sparkling as they met yours.
"I'll make you proud, babe!" he called back, his tone brimming with confidence.
"Not if you can't keep your eyes on the game," his teammate—another Beater—shouted, swooping in just in time to deflect a bludger barreling toward him.
His eyes widened at the close call before a sheepish, boyish grin spread across his face. "Thanks, mate. That was a little too close!"
He turned his attention back to you, throwing you a playful wink and blowing a kiss in your direction. "Love you," he mouthed with a quick smirk, clearly revelling in the way your worried gaze softened into a smile.
And then, just like that, he was off again, zooming across the pitch like the fearless champ he was, ready to win not just for his team, but for the person cheering him on from the stands.
Pride swelled in your chest like a warm, unrelenting tide as you watched your boyfriend play. It was almost surreal to think about how far the two of you had come—especially since there was a time when you couldn't stand him.
Back then, Jung Wooyoung was everything you couldn't tolerate: loud, attention-seeking, and constantly wreaking havoc with his pranks. He was the popular Gryffindor Quidditch star with a magnetic grin, always surrounded by friends and admirers. Meanwhile, you were his polar opposite—a shy, studious student with no interest in shenanigans, focused solely on excelling in your studies and making your parents proud.
It all started when one of his pranks nearly ruined your Transfiguration assignment. Furious, you'd confronted him in front of half the common room, calling him reckless and immature. Wooyoung, never one to back down, had retaliated with a smirk, calling you boring and stiff. That marked the beginning of your rivalry—petty remarks, pointed glares, and intentionally getting on each other's nerves became routine.
But everything changed the day he overheard a group of Slytherins mocking you. Their cruel taunts about your Muggle heritage—and the word "Mudblood" slicing through the air—left you reeling. Before you could even muster a response, he stepped in, his usual playful demeanour replaced by something sharp and unyielding.
"What did you just say?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. The bullies faltered under his glare, and though they tried to brush it off, he didn't let them escape unscathed. He stood firm, defending you with a conviction that left you stunned.
From that day on, the dynamic between you shifted. He made it clear that no one was to mess with you—not even his own friends, who had occasionally targeted you with harmless pranks. In return, you stopped berating him for his antics, accepting that his mischief was simply part of who he was. Over time, you found yourself laughing at his jokes, and he discovered a softer side to you that few others had ever seen.
Years passed, and that fragile truce evolved into friendship. Somewhere along the way, the friendship blossomed into something deeper, something neither of you could ignore. And now, here you were, standing in the Gryffindor stands, cheering him on with every fibre of your being.
Only after being with him did you truly understand why so many adored him for his talent. On the pitch, he was in his element. As a Beater, he thrived on adrenaline, his bat swinging with precision as he sent a bludger hurtling toward the opposing team. He was a natural showman, hyping up the crowd with daring plays and cheeky winks. Though his mischievous nature was ever-present, he became fiercely competitive during matches, his focus unshakable when it came to leading his house to victory.
You smiled as he executed a flawless manoeuvre, his laughter echoing across the pitch when the crowd erupted into cheers. He was so different from the boy you had once disliked, yet so quintessentially the same. His charm, his energy, his ability to make everyone around him feel alive—it was impossible not to love him for it.
"Watch this, babe!" he called as he rocketed past the stands, his grin wide and unrestrained. He was a whirlwind of passion and joy, and he was yours. And somehow, you wouldn't have it any other way.
"Aaaand Gryffindor wins!"
The roar of the crowd filled the stadium as the Gryffindor Seeker triumphantly held up the golden snitch, the tiny wings glinting under the bright sun. Cheers echoed through the stands, Gryffindor flags waving wildly in celebration. You cheered, knowing that much of this victory was thanks to your boyfriend, who had spent the game clearing the path for his teammate with skilful swings of his bat.
Amid the chaos, Wooyoung's sharp eyes immediately sought you out. Despite the throng of screaming fans and his own teammates clamouring to celebrate, all he could see was you. Without hesitation, he veered his broom in your direction, ignoring the unmistakable warning glare from Professor McGonagall.
Hovering in front of you, he flashed his signature grin, his chest rising and falling from the adrenaline of the match. Before you could say a word, he leaned in and kissed you, his lips warm and slightly chapped from the cold wind. The crowd's cheers seemed to fade as you felt his smile against your own, your cheeks heating with the realisation of how public this display was.
When you pulled away, your voice was barely above a whisper. "That's enough, Woo. You don't want detention now, do you?"
He laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I wouldn't mind it if you were there too." With a wink, he flew off to join his team, leaving you blinking sheepishly under Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze.
You cleared your throat, attempting to smooth down your robes as you mumbled, "Sorry, Professor."
To your surprise, her expression softened, and she gestured for you to walk with her as the stands began to empty. "Don't be," she said, her voice measured but kind. "You're a good motivator for him. We appreciate it. I won't lie and say our victories haven't increased since you came into the picture."
Her words left you blushing furiously as you followed her down the steps. Did that mean even she shipped you and Wooyoung? The very thought had you hiding a bashful smile behind your scarf, the cheers of the Gryffindor team still ringing in your ears.
Jongho ↠ Slytherin
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Scary Prefect Who Commands Respect
"There he is! Shhh, keep it down!"
Your friends scrambled to settle into their seats, hastily lowering their voices and pretending to focus on the books in front of them. You followed their lead, keeping your head down as the most intimidating prefect of Slytherin entered the library. Choi Jongho's very name was enough to make most students sit up straight, and his imposing presence only amplified that effect. His silence carried more weight than words ever could, commanding obedience and respect effortlessly.
You swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on the text in front of you, but your focus wavered the moment his footsteps stopped—right beside you. Your heart raced as you eyed his polished shoes, unsure if you'd done something wrong. Too nervous to meet his gaze, you froze in place, waiting for whatever came next.
"Here. I think you dropped this," he said, his voice low yet unexpectedly warm.
Your eyes widened at the gentle tone, and you glanced up to see him holding out your late father's pocket watch. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips—so fleeting you wondered if you'd imagined it.
"O-oh, thank you," you stammered, taking the cherished item from him. A spark shot through you when your fingers brushed against his, leaving your heart fluttering in a way you hadn't anticipated.
"You're welcome," he replied simply, his voice kind yet measured, before continuing on his patrol.
As you watched him walk away, a realisation settled in your mind—perhaps he wasn't as fearsome as everyone claimed.
Jongho's reputation was well-earned. As a Slytherin prefect, he didn't need to raise his voice to maintain order. A single stern look was enough to make any student think twice about misbehaving, and his word was as final as it was rare. Yet, those who truly knew him understood there was more to him than his intimidating exterior. Beneath the cool, composed demeanour was a steadfast friend with a laugh that could shatter his usual seriousness in an instant.
And soon, you would become one of the few to witness that softer side of him—though, for now, you had no idea what lay ahead.
It was on a particularly eerie evening that you would come to learn the truth. The air hung heavy with an unsettling stillness as you wandered along the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, seeking solitude to clear your mind after a gruelling week. The low-hanging clouds cloaked the forest in shadows, and the quiet seemed almost too oppressive.
But peace was the last thing you found.
A low, menacing growl rippled through the trees, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath caught as you turned, your wand trembling in your hand, to face a pair of glowing eyes cutting through the darkness.
A werewolf.
Your heart pounded wildly as the creature advanced, its snarling lips curling back to reveal rows of sharp teeth. Panic seized you. You tried to cast a spell, but fear made your movements clumsy, and the incantation faltered on your tongue. The werewolf snarled again, its deadly intent unmistakable.
You were sure you were doomed.
Suddenly, a thunderous roar shattered the tense silence, startling both you and the beast. From the shadows emerged a massive bear, its fur bristling and eyes blazing with an otherworldly fury. The bear wasted no time, charging at the werewolf with raw power and unmatched ferocity.
Their clash was brutal and swift, the werewolf no match for the bear's strength and determination. Before long, the defeated creature limped off into the safety of the forest, leaving you frozen in place, trembling from head to toe.
The bear turned its attention to you, its intelligent gaze locking onto yours. Despite your fear, there was something strangely familiar in the way it looked at you—almost protective.
And then, to your utter disbelief, the bear began to shift. Its enormous form shrank, fur receding as its features morphed into something distinctly human. In a matter of moments, you found yourself staring at Choi Jongho, his sharp eyes unwavering as they met yours.
"You…" The word barely escaped your lips, your voice a mere whisper. "You're an animagus?"
His jaw tightened briefly before he nodded. "Yes," he admitted, his tone steady but quiet.
You blinked, your mind racing to process what you had just witnessed. It wasn't just the transformation that left you reeling—it was the way he had risked himself to save you. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" you finally managed.
He let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair. For the first time, you saw the stoic facade crack, revealing something raw beneath. "People already think I'm intimidating enough," he said, his voice laced with vulnerability. "If they knew I could turn into a bear, they'd see me as a monster. Even if I chose this form to protect, not harm."
Your chest tightened at his words, at the loneliness he must have carried. His stern demeanour suddenly made sense—it was a shield, a way to keep others from seeing the parts of himself he feared they wouldn't understand.
"But it's not a bad thing," you said softly, taking a step closer. "You became an animagus for a noble reason. That says more about who you are than anything else."
His gaze softened, the hard lines of his face easing just slightly. "I appreciate that," he murmured. "But not everyone would see it the same way. People fear what they don't understand."
For the first time, you saw through the intimidating exterior everyone else feared. Beneath it all, he was just someone who cared deeply, someone who bore the weight of his secrets quietly for the sake of those around him.
"Thank you for saving me," you said earnestly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. "Your secret's safe with me. I promise."
He nodded, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone warm yet reserved. "Now, you should get back. It's not safe out here."
"And you?"
"I'll make sure the forest is clear," he assured you, his protective instincts shining through. "Go. I'll be right behind you."
As you made your way back to the castle, your mind was consumed with thoughts of Jongho. The boy who had just saved your life was so much more than the fearsome prefect everyone believed him to be. And now, you carried a piece of his truth, a secret that revealed a depth to him you never would have imagined.
From then on, something shifted.
You became one of the few who dared to hold his gaze, the rare recipient of his fleeting smiles. Where others saw the intimidating Slytherin prefect, you saw the quiet strength and vulnerability he kept hidden beneath the surface. And nothing shocked people more than seeing him sit next to you at breakfast in the Great Hall.
Whispers rippled through the tables, curious and incredulous alike. Choi Jongho, the stoic and fearsome prefect, sitting with someone? A girl? The novelty was enough to turn heads, but what truly caught people's attention was the way he looked at you.
There was something unmistakable in his eyes—a quiet affection, soft and unguarded, as if your presence unravelled the walls he so carefully maintained.
He glanced over at you as you finished your meal, his expression relaxed yet tinged with curiosity. "Where are you headed after this?" he asked, his tone casual but attentive.
You wiped your hands with a napkin, smiling up at him. "The Duelling Club."
His eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "The Duelling Club? But why?"
You bit back a laugh at his incredulity, placing your fork down with an amused shake of your head. "Because someone with a very admirable trait has inspired me," you said, your voice warm with sincerity. "To be stronger, to protect those around me too."
The words caught him off guard, and you watched as his usual composure faltered. He blinked, a faint flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. The sight was endearing, a rare glimpse of boyishness in the otherwise composed prefect.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, reaching for his goblet of pumpkin juice and taking a long sip as if it might steady him. Setting it down, he muttered softly, "You don't have to." His eyes flickered to yours, vulnerable but earnest. "You'll always have me."
Your chest warmed at his words, his quiet promise resonating deeply. He might have been the boy feared by many, but to you, he was simply someone who cared more deeply than he let on.
You leaned forward slightly, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "I know," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "But it doesn't hurt to know how to hold my own, does it?"
He exhaled a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lips curving upward in a rare but genuine smile. "Fair enough," he conceded, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer before turning back to his plate. "But I'm coming with."
Tumblr media
Any fellow Potterheads here? Humour this poor author and tell me about your Hogwarts house, your favourite Harry Potter book/movie as well as your favourite character! Most importantly, let me know if you agree with the houses I've sorted the members into!
Hope you enjoyed this! As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
General ATEEZ Tag list:
@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |
@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |
@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |
@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |
@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |
@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot @vic0921 @vnessalau @apriecotte |
@bangtannie7 @vtyb23 @khjoongie98 @scuzmunkie @anxiousskylar |
@bunny4yungi @zl-world
Tumblr media
All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
508 notes · View notes
l6ndry · 2 days ago
Text
summer sun forever, rafe cameron
band au!rafe x fan!reader (SMAU)
IN WHICH . . . one of the biggest warnings among celebrities is to avoid falling for a fan. rafe clearly does not consider this when he first notices his self proclaimed number one fan, you.
navigation: part 02 | part 03 | part 04
viewed best on mobile + dark mode.
Tumblr media
rafe's phone
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
yn's phone
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
amora speaks: can u tell i have no idea what im doing 🙂 (how do i act like a man) (help!) i am sooo sorry this took so long making these text messages literally take years off my life
also this post is wayyyyyy too long what was i thinking omfg
Tumblr media
READ ME: follow @l6ndry-fics if you want to be notified for all my future work, but if you want to be tagged specifically for this fic, please lmk and i'll add u to the taglist! (in order to stay on the taglist, you have to interact with these posts.)
Tumblr media
taglist ७౿ @nepttunesoop @lilithblackkk @kolsmikaelson @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @rafescvmdumpster @wearemadeofstardust0 @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @maybankslover @rafestify @dayyzlol @namelesslosers @mjsvinyl @nellyboosworld @osamanyc @bradleyroosterbradshawfr @urmotherlvr @rafeslittlevixen @p0gue420 @hoelesslyt @aariahnaa @kay133sposts @hadids-world @vivian-555 @unclecrunkle @eitaababe @he6rtshaker @hiiiiiiii-111111 @fmit37cass @aoiiana @rrosiitas @shirley2626 @hereforchifuyu @rafesfavouritegirl @benwadsworthsgf @glxsyymads @starkeydolly
683 notes · View notes
bonkwrites · 23 hours ago
Text
OBSESSED with the whole american x 141 man combo. smut ahead!
Not necessarily giving up your identity when you move out of the US, just wanting to explore different cultures and see new things. Then you meet one of the boys, maybe it’s Kyle or Johnny, and they introduce you to your actual, literal husband within a week of knowing you. And Simon Riley isn’t a bad guy, they tell you, just a little rough around the edges. And you’re young, in a new country, you flew on a plane for the first time to get here and it didn’t go down so you feel invincible– and you fuck Simon Riley. 
The mask isn’t even in the equation, he won’t wear it when he’s not on a mission or on base, and he’s got a scar on his cheek that’s textured when you grab his face and kiss him. He tastes like bourbon. You taste like vodka and lime. He lays you down on your hotel mattress and spreads your legs and calls you love while he’s fucking you. 
“Fuck, lovie, like that. Take it like that.” you thought maybe the accent would make it too funny to be sexy but there might be something to be said about pavlov’s dog and the bell here…. 
He’s so big and so on top of you and he’s pushing your legs to your chest to pin you underneath him while he fucks you. You feel sorry for the other people on the floor the next morning but in moment all you can think is Simon, Simon, Simon and all you can do is beg him don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop– 
You’re so happy you got your IUD before you started traveling. 
Simon says sometimes he thinks he did it in the wrong order. You fucked and then he took you out to dinner. You tell him sometimes you wish he would have let you ride him that night. He remedies your wishes immediately, all the time. 
Did you know there’s only one Taco Bell in all of England? You crave chalupa’s so intensely that you once rode a train for an hour and a bus for three just to have the worst Taco Bell of your life. Did you know that almost 50% of Americans own a gun or are proficient with one? Color 141 the most surprised they’ve ever been when you go to a gun range while they’re stationed in Texas and Simon tries to teach you gun safety but you correct him the entire time. 
“I used to go hunting with my dad, Si, I know this.” and then you have decently good grouping that’s just a little to the left and Johnny tries to show you how it’s really done and– misses entirely. 
“Is that how it’s done, Johnny?” you taunt, smiling so cheekily that Simon can’t keep his own smile off his face. 
“Listen up, bonnie, I’ve done more training-” 
“Doesn’t seem like it to me.” you mumble. Simon swear he can see the steam coming out of Johnny’s ears. 
“Lass, so help me God, if you don’t-” 
“Poor baby, Johnny,” you frown, still taunting him, your hips sway as you walk up to him and take his face into your hands, “Did you get beat in a shooting contest by a civvie? Will you live to see another day?”  You shake his head in your hands and Johnny goes red for a completely different reason than his pride and anger. Johnny’s hands twitch, Simon can see him reaching for your sides as you release his face and step away from him. Soon, Simon wants to tell him, she’s going to tell you soon.
813 notes · View notes
metranart · 3 days ago
Text
Imagine Geto and Gojo like your glorified bullies. They have had their eyes on you ever since they saw you. No one actually believed them to be bullies, sure they are arrogant and a bit mean but still, they are the golden duo of the Campus, loved and adored by everyone… but secretly obsessed with you, so but SO obsessed that their innocent teasing, playful at most, in time became more physical….
"Eyes on me, pretty," Geto grunts and swears and sweats and CAN'T seem to look away when he guides you down and kiss the tip of his cock, your tongue licking the roundness of the head like a lollipop, all in hope that this one-night stand will manage to dissuade this devilish duo from continuing to harass you, make them have their fill and be done with you. 
Geto watches you closely, breaths coming out labored and heavy. Your pretty eyes finally locking with his lovesick stare, orbs full of a sick devotion he refuses to give to anyone else, only perhaps to Satoru, who right now can’t help but chuckle amused at the love-stricken look Geto has on his face, not realizing he has the same damn look right at that moment.
"Dammit! you’ll be my end, I just know it,” the raven-haired heaves way too reverently before he realizes how vulnerable you are making him look and immediately, tries to keep face in front of a giggling Satoru. “Told ya, this little cunt can easily take us both.” 
Geto's hand comes to rest on your hair a little meaner, pushing you down and making you choke on his fat cock, but—… allowing you to control the speed with which you suck him off. Dammit! he just can’t control that soft spot he has for you.
Gojo snickers and rolls his eyes, shaking his head lightly at the devastating effect your mere existence has in his bestie… and in him, if he’s being honest. 
"Don't hog her, Suguru-"  
You blearily stare back into Satoru Gojo’s pouting grimace and he looks more frustrated than amused this time, you could laugh at how pathetic he looks if your mouth wasn't being used to make his best friend cum. Your drooling lips dragging over Suguru's throbbing cock, you can only try to follow his thrusting hips in order to protect the fragile, frayed strands of your sanity.
“You said you w-wanted….” Suguru has to concentrate to form logical sentences, “her s-sweet pussy first-…” he chokes a little when the tip touches the back of your throat but recovers the best he can, “then have-have her sweet p-pussy first, dumbass.”
You just ignore their little quarrel, just nibbling the sides of Geto's cock before he´s making you go down on him with a little more force, taking him whole in one go. Gojo lets his growing twinge of jealousy guide his next actions and with a mischievous grin, varnishes his lips in saliva, making sure are nice and slick to lick a fat and wet trip on your quivering slit.
You yelp at the unexpectedness and Geto shushes you, a benevolent expression on his face. 
"Just concentrate on sucking my cock," he hums and noticing your struggle, adds, "breath through your nose, pretty, nice and easy... just listen to my voice, sweetness." 
Eventually you do as he says, taking more of Geto in your mouth. "That's right, that's a good girl.” The raven-haired praises unable to hide anymore how much he wants you for himself. How much he wants to devote his life to you… and maybe, Satoru as well. If you can handle both, he'll take it... if you only want him, he'll take it faster.
Gojo's pathetic shriek tells Geto that he manages to slip in your tightness and your bouncing hips on his cock make him moan, appreciatively. 
Gojo's powerful hips colliding with your bruised ass cheeks without an inch of restraint is making sucking Geto off, sloppier and dirtier, and somehow, making him love it even more. Making him more verbal and prompter to show his more vulnerable side.
You knew that from the two, Geto was the machiavellian mind behind every act of bullying against you, but right now… this man, this weak mass of hormones, broken groans and trembling thighs under your hands were also showing a disarmingly sweet and unexpected, side of him. Something intimate and utterly private.
"Am I being too rough? Are you comfortable?" His rambling started all of the sudden and kept coming… "You want it deeper, should Gojo speed up or slow down..." "You're so beautiful. Ask us for ANYTHING, we'll put Tokyo at your feet... be our princess." "Shit! If you keep sounding so incredibly adorable, I'm going to cum... I don't want to cum yet-" "No, don't stop, let me hear you... I was just thinking out loud, I love the way our name sounds in your voice. Oh baby! You're going to be my downfall, please... be my downfall!
“OUR downfall!” 
Gojo corrects and the two men lock eyes. His cock stills inside you and your body tenses. There’s a heavy silence before Geto nods in agreement, the easygoing grin back on his lips. 
"Sorry. It slipped out. Our girl," he shifts his dark gaze to your reddened face and his eyes soften again. "You knew we bullied you because we like you, don’cha? I know you knew it-” 
You didn’t. You actually don't want to believe that to be the reason, that reason gives you more chills than the fact that they only saw you as a passing victim. This new information makes you make him cum faster, it slips down your chin and neck at how heavy it is, and you hear him chuckle breathlessly, as one of his hands pet your head, way too gently. 
"Y-You just wanted to keep us on the edge of our seats, y-you wanted to torture us, I just know it, kitten... well, you did well... we're crazy-crazy about you.”
You freeze, don’t knowing how to react, so you don’t… and they notice.
Soon Gojo finishes too, and a loop begins, one after another after another… like trying to brand you from the inside out, they need to seize their chance. Satoru’s strong but gentle fingers keep you effectively anchored to his groin, as he only hums appreciatively in response to your adorable, pathetic moans as both keep feeding those glorious pieces of meat to your conquered holes. 
“You, letting me rut into your softness and enduring our frenzy with such grace has undoubtedly been the best thing of my damn year, pretty." Satoru finally confesses, leaving his tough guy facade aside. Both their masks are off for good now.
Suguru Geto chuckles at his confession, you make them so desperate, so desperate to hear something more than moans mumbled brokenly from your lips, they want to hear you say that you accept all their proposals and future plans, that you are their girlfriend, their future wife, the future mother of their child… he wants to hear that you are HIS… Theirs, he means, theirs. 
But you don’t and that irks and burns deeper than expected and makes them have to go back to their nasty and reprovable behavior. Unfortunately for you, they just run out of patience.
“Y’know,” Suguru starts conversationally, disturbingly stretched grin and unfaltering obsidian gaze betraying his previous gentle approach and innocently whispered proclamations of love. “I REALLY like this pussy… I think we’ll keep it.”
You hear Satoru laugh, and for the first time, you can glimpse your mistake. This wasn’t a night one stand, their greed for you is bottomless, your foolish attempt to tame them, failed and now they look greedier than EVER.
➡️ 👀 Sneak Peek Artwork HERE
🔞➡️ FULL NSFW ART of this drabble HERE
480 notes · View notes
fastandcarlos · 23 hours ago
Text
What Baby Wants, Baby Gets : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen
summary: he might try and guilt you for making him go out in the early hours to satisfy your cravings, but you won't let him win
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You couldn’t help but smile as Max groaned beside you, his arms stretching up before his hands ran over his face, head tilting to his left so that he could glance across and take a look at you. 
“Morning,” you whispered, resting your head down against his shoulder. “Did you have a good sleep?” You then asked, sniggering as Max scoffed, his head immediately shaking across at you. 
In the early hours you found yourself struggling, unable to push the thoughts of your cravings to the back of your mind. For a while Max managed to ignore it, but eventually he made the mistake of asking if you wanted something, only for you to tell him yes. 
It felt like a figure of speech when you first fell pregnant, with Max telling you to get him if you needed something, wherever, whenever. But he didn’t quite imagine himself actually being woken up at two in the morning with you begging him to help you out. 
“Last night was a one-time thing,” Max told you, covering his mouth as he let go of a yawn. “Do you know how long it took for me to fall back to sleep? Especially with you snoring right beside me.” 
An apology came from you, but so did a chuckle as Max glared down at you. As soon as your craving what satisfied, you found yourself easily able to fall asleep, not worrying about Max and the fact that he was now the restless one tucked up beside you. 
Although he teased, he was relieved to see you resting though, knowing just how little sleep you were getting with your baby constantly reminding you that he was there. 
“I do appreciate what you did last night,” you whispered, brushing your hand gently through Max’s hair. “You didn’t have to get up and run to the store.” 
“I did, because I promised that I would always do whatever I could to help you,” Max reminded you, kissing against the top of your head, “and what baby wants, baby gets.” 
Your head nodded as Max trailed one of his hands down to rest against the top of your baby bump, his smile wide as he felt just how big it was again, knowing that you were already nearing the halfway mark. 
“I know for a fact that this little one appreciates what you do too, they were feeling particularly peckish last night,” you added, pressing a kiss to Max’s shoulder. 
His eyes rolled as once again you used the baby to get to him, knowing that if there was one person that he couldn’t say no to, it was definitely your baby. 
“I can’t wait for when the baby arrives so I can tell you to go and get your own food again,” Max joked, “you won’t be able to treat me like your slave anymore.” 
“You’re so dramatic, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy all of this.” 
It wasn’t exactly his favourite thing to do getting up in the early hours of the morning, but knowing that he was helping you out did fill Max with pride. 
“Maybe I’d enjoy it more if you asked at a decent time,” he laughed in response. 
“I don’t think I get much of a choice, if you’ve got a problem, bring it up with your child instead,” you smiled, tapping against your baby bump. 
Max’s eyes watched over you carefully as you moved closer into his side, moving one of your hands to rest against the small of your back. A groan came from you as you tried to get comfortable again, a game that you had been playing with your child for several weeks now. 
“Do you think the baby knows the most inconvenient times are to be annoying to us?” You asked Max, hearing a chuckle come from him. “Why can’t they be restless at lunch? That would be perfect.” 
“I don’t think they’re smart enough to tell the time yet,” Max sniggered, squeezing around your frame. “It’s going to get easier, hopefully the cravings will stop soon.” 
Your head nodded as Max tried his best to reassure you. Whenever you were struggling, he was right there with you, somehow Max always knew the right thing to say to make you feel better, making sure to hold onto you too to let you know that he was there. 
“It’s going to be alright,” Max whispered closely to your ear, “whatever comes our way then we’re just going to take it on together and find a way to figure things out.” 
You hummed as Max spoke, a lot more doubtful than he was. If he could, Max would read just about every baby book, watch every documentary, absorb as much knowledge as he possibly could to make sure he knew exactly what to do in every possible situation. 
“If it’s not morning sickness it’s cravings, and then once that finishes then it’s going to be the lack of sleep, soon enough I’m not even going to be able to see my feet.” 
Before you could continue, Max quickly shushed you. “And I’ll be there to help you with all of that, no matter where we are or when it is.” 
“I thought you didn’t like the early hours?” 
Max jabbed against your side as you teased him, knowing that regardless of the time he would always be there. It hurt him a lot seeing you so uncomfortable so often, he wished that there was more that he could do to make your life easier than it currently was. 
“If I were you, I’d make the most of me running around after you,” Max grinned, “because once the baby is here, they’ll be the only person I’ll be waking up at three o’clock in the morning for.” 
“You mean to say you’d leave me to fend for myself?” 
“Absolutely,” Max jokingly smiled, “you’re capable of getting up and sorting yourself out, a little baby isn’t quite as developed as you are.” 
“I’m spending nine months growing this child of yours, just in case you’ve forgotten that,” you quickly reminded him. 
“I know, I’m just messing with you,” Max assured, squeezing your frame. “I might have to cut myself in half so one part of me can look after you and the other look after the baby, that way I might just be able to be in two places at once.” 
“I’ll be alright,” you whispered, only for Max’s head to shake, refusing to let you take care of yourself straight away once the baby arrived. 
It didn’t matter whether you were pregnant or not, injured or in peak condition, Max loved looking after you and would always do so, regardless of how much you sometimes protested against him. 
Now more than ever he was glued to your side, he’d tease you and mess with you but he wouldn’t have it any other way, being able to help you was one of the things he enjoyed the most at the moment. 
“I can’t wait to see how things play out over the next few months, how big of a change is about to take place in our lives,” Max mused, resting his head on top of yours. 
“I’m terrified,” you admitted, “no one can predict how this is going to play out, there’s a fear of the unknown lingering in the back of my mind right now.” 
“You don’t need to worry,” Max assured you, “no matter what happens, we’re going to face it together, I’m going to be right here with you.” 
“Even in the early hours of the morning?” 
“Even in the early hours my love.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
529 notes · View notes
classyrbf · 13 hours ago
Text
Tumblr media
prisoner!geto who gets sent to the infirmary after getting into a fist fight with another prisoner. His knuckles and lip are bruised and busted and he’s doing the walk of shame down the jail hall. But he doesn’t expect a pretty young woman to be running the infirmary, nearly drooling at the sight because it’s been almost 3 whole years since he last laid his eyes upon one. He’s eyeing you up and down look a piece of meat while you tend to his wounds, completely ignoring his advances because it’s unprofessional. Though, you do find him quite handsome with tattoos all over his arms, a muscular build and his long silky black hair, his smile adding the cherry on top.
“You new here? I’ve never seen you around before.” He watches you put some gloves on, grabbing a roll of small bandages. “Pretty brave of you to be working in all male prison, don’t you think?”
“You must end up in here quite a lot if you know everyone who works here,” you sigh, grabbing his hand and wiping down the dried blood from his knuckles. “I transferred from another prison. It’s nothing I’m not used to.”
He smirks, narrowing his eyes at you. “Oh, yeah? Must be used to all the flirting then.”
“Wow! How could you tell?” You say sarcastically and toss the dirty wipe into the trash beside you. You wrap his hand up with the bandage and toss your gloves into the trash. “You’re all set.”
“Did I mention my head is killing me?” He winced.
“If you’re trying to get pain killers prescribed to you, it’s a whole different process. So I suggest you stop lying and wasting both of our time.” You place your hands on your hips, staring at him.
“Fine.” He stands to his feet, tall stature shadowing over you. You step back a little the more he steps closer to you. “I’ll cut to the chase. I haven’t properly fucking someone in nearly three years, and I’m dying…dying to get a feel of your sweet, sweet pussy.” He backs you into a corner, neck craning down as he whispers in your ear. “Think you can help me with that, doctor?”
You blink at him, your throat feels dry and your heart is pounding against your ribcage. “That is very, very unprofessional.” No matter what words come out your mouth, your body is feeling the complete opposite. “I’ll call the guards right now—”
“C’mon, pretty please?” The corner of his lips tweak slightly. “I know you want to. I seen it on your pretty face since the moment I walked in.” He raises his bandaged hand and runs his thumb over your plump bottom lip.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sternly say. Oh, but he does. He’s reading you like a book right now and that smug look on his face knows it all.
“Okay,” he chuckles, stepping away from you. “Just know I’ll see you around.” He turns to walk out the infirmary and let the guard know he’s all set, but he suddenly turns back around. His eyes look at the name tag pinned to your shirt. “Such a beautiful name.” He teases. “Bye, doctor.”
Tumblr media
900 notes · View notes
postracehair · 3 days ago
Text
trust me
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
max verstappen x reader | 2.3k
after an incredible (and wet) weekend in brazil, you have a confession to make.
cw: a loving relationship! discussion of anxiety/fear/worrying about your race car driver bf, healthy communication, and softness galore.
a/n: being a wag must be so stressful. like, damn! also, rain races stress me out, personally. this fic is about that.
__
The triple header comes to an end in the best way possible.
Max Verstappen wins the São Paulo Grand Prix from a 17th-place start! It's the stuff of dreams. The fist around your heart unclenches just a little bit as you watch him smiling, roaring, hoisting his well-earned trophy aloft. It's your best day in a long time, watching your darling boyfriend like that, and you celebrate with everyone late into the night. The Championship battle looms in the background but tonight is about the hard work from the weekend. The stress, the frustration, the damn rain. All of it worth it for the pride you all feel right now.
But what comes after -- that, you can admit, you enjoy even more. Three weeks until Las Vegas and Max and the team have plenty of work to do before then, but for now? For now, it's this: rest.
Everyone gets to go home, finally. And for you, home is wherever Max is. You've spent the first few days of the break thus far at his place. On the floor with the cats, on the couch watching movies. In his bed, sleeping, sometimes, other times... not so much. Hours and hours just being together. You'll have plenty of time for this once the season ends but you can never get enough of him.
You're on the couch, sprawled across the length of it with a book in hand. It's a good one, so much so that you don't notice Max until he taps your ankle and you jump.
"Jesus," you gasp. His lips are pulled up at one corner in the precursor to a full grin, sweatpants slung low enough that you can see the branded band of his underwear between the drawstrings and the hem of his t-shirt. "Where did you come from?"
"Watching race replays," he says with a shrug. "Scooch." You tug your legs back and sit up a little, bookmarking your page as he rounds the couch and plops down where your feet were.
"Max," you whine. "I like to watch those, too. So you can do that thing where you narrate like, every second." You're teasing, but only a little. For all the jokes about "maxplaining," you really do love how he explains things. He tells you what he was thinking at every turn, what the trick is, how long it took him to get it right. He points out his mistakes and those of the other drivers. All of it thoroughly and with enthusiasm, answering your questions like you're the best student he's ever had.
"Yeah, well," he says, sinking into the couch, arm stretched across the cushions towards you. Your eyes rake over the line of his bicep as he talks. "You don't like rain races very much. Wasn't sure you'd want to see it again."
That gets your attention. "How did you know that?" You've never told him outright that they stress you out. It's really important to you that you keep your cool at the track, that you don't do anything to let on that he should worry about you.
But you should know better, it seems.
"I can tell," Max says, looking right at you. "I pay attention."
You hum, not sure what to say. "You've got me there," you confess. "I'm sorry."
"Hey," he tuts. "Why the apology? You can feel however you want to. This weekend was complicated."
He feels too far away. You set your book on the ground and shove your toes under this thigh. He keeps his eyes on your face but you fuss with the hem of your t-shirt rather than look back.
"They're exciting. Rain races, I mean." You sigh. "But I can't help but worry, Max. From the garage, it's so --"
You lose track of your words because Max grabs hold of your legs and tugs them over his thighs as he moves closer to you, almost crowding you against the arm of the couch. He reaches for your collarbone to pick some lint from your shirt, his other arm slung across your calves.
"Were you scared?" he asks. "This weekend, I mean."
Frankly, you avoid telling him things like this because you don't want to distract him. You don't want to detract from his performance in any way and maybe that's selfish, because you know he's very good at what he does and how you feel isn't going to derail his weekend. But you know he loves you, and you know how deeply he feels things. How much he wants to be a good partner, a good driver, a good man. And you try really hard to let him know that he is all of those things.
The reality of your position in his life is that there will always be people who heavily imply that your presence, your actions, your choices could be at fault. It's ludicrous -- Max has said so many times -- but it makes you hype-aware. You don't want to overstep. It's something you know you should articulate to him properly, but you know he'll be upset that you think you can be anything but a good part of his life. It's an endless cycle.
"Hey," he says, mistaking your silence for emotion. "Liefje, I'm fine." He reaches for you, cupping your cheek with a warm hand. You look up at him and find him frowning.
"I know," you say, leaning into his palm. "I know you are. I just -- I don't want it to sound like I'm a whining baby or something."
"Whining baby?" Max gently rubs the skin under your eye with his thumb. "Psh. We've got some of those on track. You couldn't come close to them if you tried."
That gets a laugh out of you and he cracks a smile at the small victory.
You sigh. "I was scared," you admit, voice soft. Max presses a little closer to you, his hand falling from your face to catch yours, fingers twining together.
"Are you always scared?" he asks. "You're more tense on rain weekends, I can tell that much. But you've never really talked about this. I guess I--" He frowns again. "I've never really asked you."
"That's okay," you say. "It's nothing, really."
Blue eyes bore into yours. "No, I want to know," he presses. "Please, tell me?"
You tip your head back a little, eyes on the ceiling. How to say it?
"I guess I'm always a little scared, yeah," you say. "I don't know how I wouldn't be."
He tugs on your hand so you'll look at him. "What is it, do you think?" The question comes out in his typical way. This must be how he is in driver briefings, you think fleetingly. Max is analytical, methodical, always looking for the root of the problem so he can understand it and adapt.
But how do you explain this?
"Well, it's a dangerous sport," you explain. "As you know. And I -- Max, I love you, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."
The furrow of his brow lessens a bit and he presses a light kiss to the back of your hand. Your stomach flutters, even after all this time.
But Max has no time for your mooning, apparently. "Were you scared before we knew each other?" he asks.
You think about it. "It's different, I guess. I was worried, generally. For all of you. I'm still worried for all of you, but --"
His eyebrow quirks and he fails to hide a cheeky smile. "Me the most?"
You roll your eyes and squeeze his hand. "You the most. But don't tell Carlos that."
Max tuts. "So, now it's just worse? You feel it more?"
Nodding, you try to explain. "I don't even like watching on TV, now, because I'm so far away. I feel so helpless."
You can't make it to every race but you try your hardest, not only to support Max but for your own sanity. It's easier to calm yourself down when you're around other people who believe in him, when you have access to all the details and when he's only a few steps away when he's out of the car.
"I don't want you to be worried," he says, softly. "You don't let on that you are when we say goodbye before the race, aside from being a little tense."
One of your favorite pieces of race weekends -- those few moments when all of his attention is on you. He makes sure you have everything you need and leaves you with a kiss and a smile and a see you later. His confidence and his competence are like balms.
"When I'm looking at you, I'm not as stressed," you say, a bit shy. "You're very good at your job, you know. And your confidence is convincing."
"I know," he says, seriously. "That's why I know it'll be fine. Do you not know that?"
If he was less determined, you'd ask him to drop it, since you're starting to feel embarrassed. But you know he won't let it lie.
"I know it, too, Max." You reach for his face to push back some fringe from his forehead. "I'll always be worried about you, though. You get in the car and drive away and I just -- sit there. And wait for you to come back."
He frowns, deeper this time. You keep your hand on him, cupping his jaw and running your thumb along his stubble.
"And I love it. You know I was a fan before I met you and it's a dream to be there to watch you race. I love seeing you do crazy things like win from p17. It's so much fun."
He knows this about you. You've got a bit of a reputation for your facial expressions in the Red Bull garage, always the first on your feet when he overtakes, jumping up and down when he extends his lead. It's an infectious kind of joy and energy and you lean into it every time, even if your stomach is churning with anxiety.
Max is quiet for a few moments. He covers your hand with his and leans into it further.
"You trust me, right?"
"Of course," you say right away. "Always."
"I've never really thought about it," he says, slowly. "I mean, in the car. I don't worry about you because I'm not worried, so I just thought you knew not to be, too."
"I'll always worry, Max. Even though I trust you."
"Why didn't you tell me this before?"
Your cheeks heat and you look away from him, pulling your hand free to cradle it in your lap.
"You've got a million other things to worry about besides me," you say. "I don't want to distract you."
Max says your name with a scoff, literally waving his hand as if swatting away your silly notions. "Distract me? Come on," he says. "I wouldn't be a three-time world champion if I could get so easily distracted." He leans into your space, nosing at your jaw. "Even if you are very distracting."
You allow the attention for a few moments before pushing him back with a laugh. His cheeks are flushed, hair a bit of a mess, like after he takes off his helmet. And, god, he looks relaxed. You're so proud of him you can hardly stand it. The season is almost over and you know he's got a lot of work ahead of him, and you've got a lot of worrying. But he's motivated, and you know he can win. You know he'll come back to you.
Max leans his head back on the couch and casts his gaze sideways at you, nose scrunched. "I can't fix this, can I? You're still going to worry."
He sounds so resigned, so disappointed in himself that you tug on his hand so he'll get closer. This time, you frame his face with your hands and kiss him, just a light press of your lips to his. Both of you sigh into it, and you drag your mouth along his cheek until you reach his ear.
"I'm still going to worry," you whisper. "But I love you and I trust you. And I know it'll be okay."
Max sighs and presses his forehead to your shoulder, practically pulling you into his lap so he can wrap his arms around you.
"You better hope it doesn't rain for the rest of the season," he mumbles.
"That damn VSC," you groan, pulling back from him a bit. "I was going to tear my hair out!"
Max laughs. "It kept things interesting," he says lightly. "Rain isn't really a problem for me, schatje, you know this --"
"Because you're Dutch, I know, Max." You roll your eyes. "Even Fernando couldn't keep it together! I mean, the gasps from the garage when --"
The seriousness of your conversation fades as you trade tidbits about the race -- you've done this already, hashed it out in the hotel room and the flight home and in bed since Sunday. Max watches you talk, elbow braced on the couch and his head resting in his hand. His eyes sparkle and you know you're amusing him as he corrects you on the turn names and who went in the wall when. Max loves you: you've never doubted this. He loves you and he cares about how you feel and doesn't want you to be worried.
And while you will be, because you love him, you know that it'll be alright.
"Hey," Max says, interrupting your opinions about start procedures. "I love you, okay? Thank you for worrying about me."
"Graag gedaan," you say. Well, you try to say. Max laughs and corrects your pronunciation. You're welcome, he says, over and over, a kiss to your cheeks, your nose, your forehead each time. Ik houd van je. Your lips, your neck, your jaw.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
512 notes · View notes
starkeysprincess · 3 days ago
Note
Duuuude ugh I thought about what it would look like with stepbro!rafe making you cum for the first time cause you told him you’d feel funny sometimes so you’d try to get off but then it felt like you had to pee and you’d stop and the innocence he’d get off on…
-like I can see him at the start of your fucked stepsibling relationship him just liking to grope and fondle you and then one day when he’s stressed he just needs something to smack and rough up so he calls for you “you gonna let me play with my favorite little ass?”
-once he has you over his lap spanking and gripping you while he watches TV, you’re getting wet and tell him you feel funny and never really felt what happened after cause you were scared and so he points out his bulge under your lower tummy “you did that sweet baby. get that empty head working and see if you can figure out what you need” and before you know it he’s helping you grind on his lap, talking you through it, praising and degrading you until you finally feel your first orgasm. “You wanna feel that again, you come to me, I’ll take care of you, princess, but head upstairs, now I gotta show you how to take care of me for being such a good big brother”
Tumblr media
warnings: stepcest, spanking, dry humping, reader is 18+
he practically uses your ass like a stress ball, whether squeezing and kneading the fatty flesh or giving it a harsh smack whenever you’re nearby; he just can’t help himself, especially when he was under immense stress. "rafey?" your voice called out, entering his bedroom when you heard him call your name. his hand encircled your wrist, pulling you further into his room, and locked the door.
"what's wrong?" you frowned, noticing the distressed look on his face. "nothing your pretty little head needs to worry about, alright? i'm just stressed, s'all," your stepbrother murmured.
"is there anything i could do to help?"
rafe didn't have to think twice at your question, "mhm, i have a whole lot of stress to relieve. you gonna let me play with my favorite little ass?". his fingers play with the ends of your hair, sensing your hesitation, “c’mon, princess. you wouldn’t want your stepbrother to be stressed, would you?” he faux pouted. you shook your head, "no, i wanna help you if i can.".
"yeah? you're such a good girl. always wanting to make me feel better, huh?" he licked his lips, sitting on the edge of his bed before pulling you to lay across his lap. his hand ran up the back of your thigh to the hem of your oversized shirt, pushing it till it bunched around your waist, revealing your perfectly plump ass.
“missed this sweet little ass,” he groaned, kneading the soft flesh. a small yelp slips from your lips when his large palm harshly lands on your ass, making your body jolt forward.
you could feel the band of his ring leaving an impression on your sensitive skin with each delivered smack. your skin felt hot, the stinging sensation slowly fading into pleasure as he alternated between slapping and massaging your red, swollen ass. you squirm in his lap, your panties soaked and sticking to your cunt. “what’s got you squirming, hm?” rafe teased, his hands gripping your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to see a wet patch seeping through the thin material.
“oh, you like this, huh? i could tell by how much of a mess you’re making, ruining these pretty little pink panties,” he chuckled. “rafe…” you whine, your cunt pulsing with need. he bucks his hip, his bulge pressing against your lower tummy, “feel that? s’all cause of you sweet girl. need you to get that pretty little head working and see if you can tell me what you need.”
“i-i don’t know,” you stammered, “you don’t know? you and i both know that’s a load of shit,” rafe tsks.
"guess i have to show you what you need then, huh?" he chuckles, pulling you up till you're straddling his lap. his hands find your hips, holding them steady as he guides you to rut against his lap. he grins to himself, licking his lips when he hears your breath hitch in your throat as his bulge grinds against your clothed cunt, "feels good, yeah?".
you nod weakly, burying your face into his shoulder, encouraging rafe to push and pull your hips back and forth. you press your face further into his shoulder, muffling the small moans that slip from your lips, "that's it, keep making those sounds. let me hear how good it feels," rafe cooed. his palms slide to your ass, squeezing the flesh hard enough to leave bruises, his own hips bucking to meet each roll of your hips.
a sharp gasp erupts from your throat when your clit bumps where the tip of his cock rests, making your body squirm, and your hips start to roll against his. "there you go, just like that...show me how much of a desperate little slut you are," rafe groans, grinding himself harder against you, matching your rhythm.
"please..." you whine, trying to halt your movements as you feel an unfamiliar tightening in your lower belly. "shh, just let it happen, sweet girl. s'okay, i got you," rafe reassures, his grip on your hips tightening.
rafe buries his face into the side of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, “c’mon, baby. cum f’me, want you to show me how much you need me.”. you cry out against his shoulder, your cunt clenches around nothing as your orgasm washes over you.
your body slumps forward into his chest, your breath tickling his neck as you pant for air. rafe's thumbs rubbed soothing circles onto your hips, “good girl, you did so good.".
"hey, look at me," he rasps, his hand intertwining in your hair, pulling your head back to make you look at him. "if you ever wanna feel that again, you come to me, understand? i'll take care of you, okay?" he brushed your hair out of your face.
"okay," you whisper, nodding in response. "good...now i gotta show you how to take care of me for being such a good big brother. can you do that for me?" .
527 notes · View notes
simonsrileyhusband · 3 days ago
Note
Would you write me a pretty decent age gap with Simon, reader being in their 20s and he’s in his late 30s? Smut or not idc I’m just projecting 😔😔😔 there’s a hot guy at my job he looks like my Simon headcanon and he’s like 38 sobbing rn
(also, can I be 💫🖤 anon? If u do emoji anons, ofc)
gooood, i love older men. and of course you can be 🖤💫 anon.
simon acts like he is 200 years older than you and like you don't know shit. so he has to teach you, he teaches you how to fix things around the house (even tho he likes it when you ask for his help) and how to tell if your car needs foxong, etc.
he also loves that you have so much more energy than him, and in a way, are curious about life.
simon loves to spoil and pamper you, alway buying things for his pretty baby.
nsfw:
and since he is older he is a bit more experiences than you, simon loves to teach you new things, new positions, new feelings.
he lets you explore and discover yourself, even if its a bit new for him too.
"what did ya' say? sure... we can try that."
he also has a bit of a hard time keeping up with your higher libido, but you dont mind, you love it when he pants into your hear. "just... give me a minute lovie... fuck- you are so tight."
550 notes · View notes
wifes-xxx · 2 days ago
Text
There have been moments, especially when we open our hearts to a husband , where you have felt a distance between you. I know It's as if the door to your heart opens just halfway, holding back parts of you out of fear, caution, or maybe something you now can't quite understand. It struck you deeply like a slap, and you couldn't help but fee this realisation, it sounds like you are being self centred "I can't believe you would be someone so selfish. That you cant give yourself over completely to your relationship. What a dried up and broken woman you have become"
Tumblr media
The beauty of exploring love languages and embracing our vulnerabilities lies in their reflection of real-life relationships. These concepts encourage us to examine our own connections, fostering a deeper understanding and appreciation for the complexities of love. It's an invitation to reflect on how we communicate affection and how we can better align with our loved ones, paving the way for more fulfilling relationships
Tumblr media
Have you noticed sometimes when you do want it from a your guy , it almost feels like you’re invisible to him?
Are you nodding along?
Has this happened to you?
Tumblr media
You already know you’re smitten. With your husband, only…you’re not bold and slutty, so you don’t feel comfortable just walking over and dropping to your knees and unzipping his pants and pulling it out, or telling him that you’re horny and need fucking… now!
Tumblr media
So what can you do because you know it’s insulting to him for you to be a boring prude?
It’s fairly easy to get attention, but that doesn’t in any way guarantee that he will want to fuck you. Just something to be aware of. Once you have his attention, you’ll want to really notice what his reaction to you is. Does he smile while listening to every word, or is he busier checking his phone than talking to you? The sharper your observation skills, the less time you waste on knowing how to please him.
Tumblr media
Grow up…you’re acting like you’re in middle school. You’re not. There are better, high-value ways to get his attention. Be his wife, his woman and his lover. Show him what you have and let him enjoy you.
Never be boring or distant.
Tumblr media
Instead make yourself interesting and be interested in him and his desires. Learn what makes him hard.
Think of each moment like the dating game, you may be insecure about flirting or expressing your interest. It will take practice, but you’ve got this! Show some sexual aggression and really let him know what you have in mind. Use your brain. Or play open docile and ditzy. If it makes him hard and your feeling horny and wet, know in your heart its working for you. Remember that.
Tumblr media
Be his good girl a figure out what turns him on and makes him hard, and interested. Usually, within a few minutes of conversation and , you can deduce this. Obviously, look for a bulge, but also keep an eye out for signs of breast gaze and lip gazing what part of your body is he focused upon! Display yourself with abandon like the women these men look at on Tumblr. They are interested atvtmhem for a reason. Forgot you self and think about why men masturbate to these kind of women pictures.
Tumblr media
Let it change you prudish self.
Keep the conversation going once you have his attention, and make it clear that you’re not just being normal friendly (you’re being flirty friendly!). Use your language in and out of the bedroom to keep him engaged.
“You make me so wet”
“Never Stop”
“That feels amazing”
“Does that feel good?”
“I can feel your dick throbbing”
“I want you here right now”
“I want You so bad”
“I was thinking about you today”
“ oh fuck me, Just Like That”
“You make me want to scream”
“Fill me up”
” I'm curious honey what porn makes you. Hard“
“Fuck me like you mean it”
“Harder”
“I feel tiny in your arms”
“I love you”
“I love your dick”
“I want your cum”
“Kiss Me”
“Make me cum baby”
“Seeing you right after a workout”
“Taste Me”
“Your cock is stretching me out”
“I'm not wearing my panties today“
Feel free to share you favourites with me.
Oh God, this felt amazingly good to write. I am sooo ready for him.
S_XXX
5K notes · View notes
seneon · 2 days ago
Text
INTERTWINED GAZES ──── katsuki bakugo
Tumblr media
about. in which, everybody's watching her, but she only has eyes for him. romantic fluff. wc of 700+
notes. inspired by "this is what you came for" by calvin & rihanna. okay maybe katsuki is interesting to write too... forrr @seumyo aka katsuki's girl and @angeliicheartt my pooki
Tumblr media
you took a trip down to a memory lane ingrained and portrayed with the best moments in your life back in UA. it all started with the very first step you took into hero class 1A, and it all travels to your final year in 3A.
it has been a journey. to grow in your quirk and to grow in your friendship with your classmates. for whatever reason, your love for katsuki seems to grow as it has with the other aspects that bring your whole life up.
now you're standing amongst all the other future heroes who danced and reveled in the pool of their sweet graduation. the bass of the party song finds a funny comfort at the back of your ears as the colourful lights run around in every direction, painting your skin whatever hue the light shines.
the emcee announces for a time where the next song will be the momentary dopamine boost for the students, a dance with a partner. by now, most of the students have their own partner. you can tell, they've grown on each other. they've fallen in love. they've locked their fates together.
not that you aren't a fan of romance, but the eyes of every other student that darts to you right after the implication of a partner dance has your eyes locked onto one boy, and only him.
every soul is watching you, but you're looking at katsuki. dear sweet katsuki who stands at one corner with a fruit punch in one hand, and his other hand stuffed into his pockets. he takes a sip of his drink before his scarlet eyes shoot to your direction and he freezes.
katsuki freezes because the girl he's always admiring from afar is looking at him. she's on the dance floor with so many other boys, but her sights are set on katsuki.
your heart starts to speed up as your hands are gently pushed against your chest to stop the rapid beating. even under the blaring colourful lights and the music that is almost ending, you looked like the ultimate beauty to katsuki. even though your eyes are taken off from him, his gaze is still fixed onto yours.
“dance with her,” midoriya breaks katsuki out of his trance and glances at his friend who shot him a smile. “you’ll never have this chance again, kacchan.”
midoriya’s words seemed to puncture some sort of idea in his mind. katsuki walks towards you, pushing his way through the crowd while setting his drinks aside so he could tap on your shoulders to get your attention.
when you looked at him, he lost all his confidence. it's all because in this moment, he feels so vulnerable under your gaze. your eyes that hold some kind of beauty in them and they see through all the imperfections of katsuki.
and though there are many people special to him, you are the only soul who can touch his cool heart with your warm smile that surfaces.
“i want to dance with you,” the blond blurts out with a murmur, the colour of roses painting his cheeks and you couldn't help but feel your blush own deepening. “i’ll dance with you, katsuki.”
everything was so sweet. the way his hands held yours so gently, a monstrous contrast to how aggressive he usually is. his touch is so warm and it has you falling in love all over again with this boy. you had your first dance with the first boy you liked.
and when you look back at it, you've always wondered why it took three years for you to confess your love to katsuki. you still wonder until now, years after the graduation party where you're now a pro hero, just a few ranks under katsuki.
“are you looking at our graduation picture again?” the voice of your husband asks as you pull your gaze off from the photo album and nod at katsuki who takes off his costume gears.
“it was on this date where you asked me to dance with you, and we ended up confessing to each other,” you said as he walked over to you sitting on the couch and gave your cheek a peck.
“of course. i still remember."
katsuki will never forget about it. because if a genie grants him a wish, it will be for him to ask you to dance with him over and over again.
Tumblr media
© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.
345 notes · View notes
dragon-ascent · 2 days ago
Text
Imagine being able to see people’s elemental aura. If they bear a vision, the energy around them takes the color of the corresponding element. So Pyro users have a burning red-orange energy flickering about them while Dendro wielders are draped in a calm deep green. Only you can see their aura, perhaps just a special (but mostly useless) gift you were born with.
Which is why when you start working for Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and are introduced to Zhongli, you’re freaking out that you can’t tell anyone he’s actually the Geo Archon who is supposed to be dead.
Shimmering golden rays with a glare so intense they may just be exploding stars suspended in sunlight…yes, the aura around him is simply unmistakable. The Dendro Archon’s wavelength was of a similar intensity back when you attended the Sabzeruz festival. The appearance of the Raiden Shogun during Irodori had you beholding a similar feeling.
Zhongli’s every action only confirms it, not that confirmation was ever needed. His knowledge is too vast to be that of a young man, his mannerisms more ethereal than worldly, his gait steadier than stone.
Soon enough, he takes notice of the way you’re always so jittery around him – but he chalks it up to you being a naturally skittish thing. So he tries to alleviate your nerves by talking to you any chance he gets…not that that helps because his every word has you even more on edge.
“So true, bestie!” you blurt out after he’s told you something that’s gone in one ear and out the other. “Speaking of, isn’t it so sad that Rex Lapis is dead?”
Zhongli pauses, eyeing you curiously. “My dear, this is the third time this week you have brought up the topic of the Geo Lord’s death. Has it affected you so? Please take comfort in that He remains in all our hearts, watching over us common folk from the afterlife.”
He’s mocking me, I just know it! you think, your cheeks heating up as you try not to stare at the divine golden aura crackling around him.
One time, as (un)luck may have it, you accidentally bump into him and spill coffee on his beautiful suit. “Oh gods! Forgive me!” you wail, getting onto your knees. This time…this time he’ll certainly show you his godly wrath…maybe skewer you with his spear…or summon a fissure to swallow you…
But Zhongli is chuckling softly, dabbing at the stain with his lovely embroidered handkerchief. “Please do not fret, my friend. This is nothing a wash will not fix.”
You then insist you’ll cover the cost and get it cleaned, to which he eventually accedes. Holy…when he takes it off to reveal his cream-coloured shirt underneath, it’s like his aura gets even more blinding. It takes everything in you not to just throw yourself at his feet and sing his praises.
(How gorgeous he looks as he works the rest of the day with his coat off.)
He warmly invites you over to his place for tea when you come to return his coat, now cleaned; the house is as well-kept as he is. As night falls, the glow around him only strengthens in response. You can’t stop yourself from asking, mid-sip of your well-made tea:
“What’s Rex Lapis doing working a salaried job?”
389 notes · View notes
ultralightpoe · 1 day ago
Text
JUNO - Bucky Barnes
Authors Note: Gah, here we go again with the bucky fics since he looked so damn good in that trailer! Enjoy!
Word Count: 4215
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT.....and more smut.
Requests: OPEN
Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event
Tumblr media
[Thank you for the gif @ayo-edebiri ]
Enjoy!
“Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing
Oh yeah, you just get it
Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit
God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh”
-
You were a terrible terrible person, this was a fact. It would be put on whatever wikipedia page they made for villains as soon as people figured it out, which considering the rage building in your body would be any moment now. Why were you a terrible person? That’s easy to explain. 
There was a time where everyone avoided your boyfriend like the plague, when the Winter Soldier cliche had been stuck to his image like a nail in a tire and everyone treated him like crap. And who stayed by his side? You. Not that it was ever about keeping score because you just wanted what was best for him. But now that people are all about kissing his ass since he had some new found fame? You wished things would go back to the way they were. And that made you a terrible person. 
Who would want things to go back when your love was treated terribly?
But then you see girls like Montana clinging to his side and that little green monster in the pit of your stomach begins growing and growing until it leads to moments like now, with you standing at the bar clutching your glass like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth. 
Yet another gala was being thrown, this time it was ‘Rockstars for Schooling Funds’ and Bucky was required to attend for PR. And attend your man did. The jacket, the tie, the pushed back hair and the hot ass glare. 
From the second you saw him ready for tonight you were ready to pull him into the bedroom and never leave, your skin grew hot just remembering the feeling of his hands roaming your body as you tried to lead him into the bedroom. He obviously didn’t fall for it and now you were here watching Montana hold onto his arm as she laughed at something he said. 
As if sensing your glare he turns to catch your eye, and you know that he was surveying your safety by the sharp look in his eyes and all you can think was ‘God bless your dads genetics’.  But you refuse to break for him, so you shrug and turn back to the bar ready to order yourself another drink. 
Best thing about wearing a dress like the one you were wearing tonight? Attention.  Within seconds the men at the bar were clamoring to buy you a drink, crooked smiles and lame pick up lines. The prized contender? The southern man with kind eyes wearing his very own black cowboy hat. 
This could be fun. 
“What’ll it be?” He drawls and you have to fight off the blush filling your cheeks just at the sound of it. 
“Hmm, I haven't decided yet.” You flirt, batting your lashes for a second. “Think you can help a girl out?”
“There’s the ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.” He reads off the little menu, looking up to you from under his hat, giving a smooth wink and you huff out a small laugh. 
“Would it be worth my time?”
“It’s the best on the menu from what I can see.” As if on cue you both look out to the crowd around you at the gala, with loud music and cheesy rockstar costumes, and whilst he is trying to make a point your eyes roam for a familiar head of hair. But the group that Bucky had been sitting with for the past 30 minutes was now short a member, your man. “Who would want to waste time with any of these cruds when you could have a real drink sugar?”
But the words were lost on you as your eyes traced over the room in a hurried panic. Where did he go?
But then your nose fills with a familiar woodsy scent as a familiar arm wraps around your waist in a tight grip that has the cowboy standing straight up in his own panic. 
“Yeah Doll, how bout a real drink?”
-
“You make me wanna make you fall in love
Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah
Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?
Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up”
-
That little green monster building in your stomach? Now she had a fire pal burning straight through your skin at the image of the icy glare Bucky managed to send in the cowboys direction, the fingers on your waist tightening and digging into your skin. 
“I was just talking to my friend here about drinks.” You hum out, watching his jaw tighten as he continues to glare. “What do you know about drinks?”
The cowboy, who you now knew to be a foolish man since he still stood in that spot, lets out a smooth chuckle. “Considering he’s holding an old fashioned I would say not much, Sugar.”
“Really? I always thought that the old fashioned ways worked in seduction. At least they did for me.” Bucky all but growls out, pulling you closer to him. “Now how bout we ask the gal. Do my old fashioned ways work?” 
As if to prove his point he presses his thigh between your legs just a notch and squeezed at your waist, you were lost. 
“No words? Hmm? Interesting.” He smiles, “Think you need a break from the crowd?”
He doesn’t waste time waiting for an answer, rather he keeps his grip on your waist as he leads you through the large gala, keeping the glare on his features that has people backing away to avoid his anger. You however basked in it, and as he lead you into the bathroom with the slam of the door and an easy movement to lock the door. 
You got right to work, hopping onto the counter and wiggling a bit as he turns back to you. 
You look up at him through you lashes, kicking one foot out a bit to expose your leg to him. “I mean not that I don’t love this vibe, we didn’t pack the handcuffs baby.” 
“Oh so the pretty girl thinks she’s funny.” He chuckles, stepping forward and moving his hands to the top of your thighs to squeeze before pulling you forward harshly. “In case you haven’t realized it, this is the moment where you start giving me reasons to give you what you so badly want.” 
Words failed you as his palms roamed your skin, rubbing soft circles to begin pushing up your dress. 
“Oh, I’m the one in trouble here?” You huff, leaning back as he pushed his way in between your thighs. “Funny, here I was thinking of granting you mercy.”
“Oh that’s how we are playing it, huh?” And just like that he is pressing the pad of his flesh thumb right onto your core, pulling a sharp gasp from you as you tried to close your legs out of instinct only for him to press you down with his metal hand. “You were saying, sugar?”
“Oh…” You moan, back arching as he circles his thumb with a smug smile, leaning into you to pull your lips into a fervent kiss. It draws your breath until your gasping into him for air, your hands woven into his hair to keep him there and save you all in the same go while he teases at pulling your panties down only to pull back in a matter of seconds leaving you there to try and catch your breath. 
Seconds away from achieving your high only to be left stranded leaves you whining and leaning forward to get him back into your arms. 
He tsks at you, pushing you back gently as you continue whining. 
“What will you give me?”
“Anything.” You gasp out, kissing at the wrist of the hand holding you back, nipping at the flesh of it as you reach for him metal arm to pull you back in. He gives in a little, allowing you to press your hips into his so release some of the pressure. “Please baby.”
“Then how about you behave for the last hour, and we’ll go home and get you sorted. Yeah?”
“Fine,” You snip out, tracing your hand up his metal arm before making it to his collarbone and pressing your hips further into his. “I’ll be good. I promise.”
-
“I know you want my touch for life
If you love me right, then who knows?
I might let you make me Juno
You know I just might”
-
And you feel like a fool for making that promise as he leads you through the crowd once more, this time with a pressure begging to be released in your lower belly as he keeps his metal hand on your lower back. The chill of the metal while your body is ablaze has you reeling, reaching a hand back to keep a hold on him. 
You think of all the things he can do to you as he talks with the Galas president, digging your nails into the sleeve of his tux as you push your thighs together a bit, leaning your nose into him to inhale his scent as he talks with a bold presence. 
When that Montana girl comes back you learn that she is an assistant for the program and that little green monster leads you to nip at his ear in front of her before kissing at his neck to leave a lipstick mark. 
He looks at you for a moment, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips before turning to talk to her some more but it’s too late, you’re already in a haze. The green monster and the red flame have mixed to make their very own monster. 
So you pull him in by his tie, pressing your lips to his ear and whispering the words you knew would break him. “Gimme me a baby.”
-
“Let you lock me down tonight
One of me is cute, but two though?
Give it to me, baby
You make me wanna make you fall in love (Oh)”
-
It was the one secret weapon you’ve never used, but have always known about. 
Back in the beginning of the relationship while you were learning the ins and outs of eachother you noticed how much he loved the pill since it hadn’t been too popular back in his day. He loved the freedom it gave him to mark you as his, but you also noticed the lingering gaze on your stomach and or the intent look he gave when you took the pill. 
But you had never been ready for a kid, you wanted to save that for that someone special who you could raise them with. But you knew that Bucky was it, you knew that he was your touch for life. Why not give in?
And the thrill of giving in the second his eyes meet yours makes it worth it, seeing the heat as he pulls you in so tight you might as well be one person. 
“Come on baby, one of me is cute but two though?” You whisper, leaning up to bite at his lip before his hands come up to pull you into a feral kiss as he begins to lead you out the doors. 
-
“I showed my friends, then we high-fived (Ah-ah)
Sorry if you feel objеctified (Ah-ah)
Can't help myself, hormonеs are high
Give me more than just some butterflies”
-
“Easy there.” He grunts out the second you press him into the seats of the limo, straddling him with ease as your nails rake down his chest to begin tracing the buttons of his shirt. “I might feel objectified.”
“I don’t give a shit,” You gasp, ripping his shirt open before attacking his chest with kisses. You take to kissing his chest, dragging your lips from spot to spot in order to mark him as much as you can as he pulls you down to move his hips into your with a groan. 
Your eyes flutter closed at the heat that crosses through your body at the sound, whining out a bit as he begins to grind into you, pulling you up from his chest with a swift pull to lock your lips together as the limo makes a turn. 
The kiss was feral, teeth gnashing, thigh clenching kiss that has you gripping his shoulders and pushing your hips into his a little quicker. Biting down onto his lip when he stills your hips with his hands before pulling back. 
“You gonna let me lock you down?” He whispers, rubbing your hip as he moves you with ease until your legs are splayed over his lap and he can reach between them to pull more moans from you. “Gonna let me keep you forever?”
“Yes….” You whine out the second he begins rubbing at your core once more, this time with the metal hand. The chill of the metal over the fabric is driving you crazy and you press your hips up for more pressure and as a sign you want the panties off. 
He is quick to oblige, pulling his hand to the waistband of them and ripping them off in one easy movement before pushing his fingers back to ease one into your center. “I’ll give you anything you want. But you already knew that when you said I could give you a baby. Didn’t you?”
And just like that he pushes two more fingers in, curling them in a fluid motion as his lips press into the pressure point of your throat. He works his fingers in a fast paced motion as you close your eyes and give into the feeling, letting him suck and bite at your neck as much as he wanted to. 
And once you reach your high he merely speeds up his movements until your shaking in his lap. 
“Atta girl.” He grunts, pulling his fingers up to suck on while you blink at him, still shaking from that orgasm. 
“I love you.” You murmur to him, leaning on for a gentle kiss. He laughs into it, rubbing at the back of your neck in a sweet gesture before putting your torn panties in his pocket and looking to see how close you are to home. 
-
“You make me wanna make you fall in love
Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah
Wanna try out some freaky positions?
Have you ever tried this one?”
-
The calm ease he had built up for the rest of the limo ride was quick to vanish the second the limo pulled up to the curb, pushing the door open and pulling you out so quickly your legs swing until he pulls you up so you can wrap them around his waist. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” You giggle, letting him carry you inside until the front door closes and he can set you down to lock it. Even in the mix of all this he can never slack on your safety, and you were sure that once he spent all your energy he would come down here for one last safety check. 
You let him do what he needed to do, walking to the kitchen with a fleeting look to him before grabbing a glass of water to sip on while you waited, legs still a little shaky. But you don’t have much time since he comes around the corner into the kitchen, leaning on the fridge with a small smile as he watches you every movement. 
“Everything locked up and safe?” You ask, moving one step closer to him.
“Yes.” He responds, the deep voice causing a shiver to move down your spine as he takes a step similar to yours without taking his eyes off you. 
“I think it’s so hot you know.” One of his eyebrows raise at your words, the small smile turning into a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in this world as protective as you.”
He merely hums back, taking another step closer as his eyes roam over your body. “Yeah?”
“Mmhmm. And I was thinking that you deserved an award.” 
“I do?” You almost laugh at how innocent the question comes out, but you don’t have time since your already turning to press yourself into the counter, pushing your hips out and pulling your dress up to expose yourself to him as he audibly growls. “Have we every tried this before?”
-
“I know you want my touch for life
If you love me right, then who knows?
I might let you make me Juno
You know I just might”
-
His hands are upon you in an instant, rubbing at your hips as his body presses into yours to kiss at the back of your neck, and you realize that he is still wearing his undershirt and pants. The metal of the belt buckle digs into your back as you reach back to undo his belt. 
You hear him undo it and get ready, pressing your forehead into the tile of the counter as he grabs your hands and begins wrapping your hands together with the leather belt. And you should be embarrassed at the moan that fills the air once you realize what he is doing before he undoes his pants and you feel him press at your center. 
He’s quick to press in, and you both your moans fill the air as he presses his forehead into the exposed skin of your back before beginning to rut himself up into you. With every aggressive push of his hips into yours the doors of the cabinet on the counter shake, the cold tile of the counter hitting your hip over and over and over as he claims you for his own. 
With one hand holding the belt that is biting into the flesh of your wrists and the other holding the counter to keep you both stable he stands straight and lets free. Every harsh threat is followed by his grunts and your moans, the sound of skin slapping filling the room before the hand from the counter comes to hold your hair. 
It’s feral, and hot. And the feeling of his flesh hand pulling at your hair has you tightening around him enough that he can’t fight his own moan. 
And the second you hear it you are coming undone around him, shaking harshly as he keeps you held up before you collapse, continuing his thrusts until you reach the peak of the high once more and spasm around him. 
Once you come down, panting heavily and keeping your forehead pressed into the cold tile, he works on undoing his belt to release you as he pulls himself out of you and pulls his pants up. 
You are quick to turn on him, tears in your eyes partly due to the intense orgasm and the fact that you still haven’t gotten what you wanted. “Baby please….”
“Easy doll.” He whispers, pulling you into his arms to wrap himself around you, picking you up easily. “You’ll get it. Don’t you fret.”
-
“Let you lock me down tonight
One of me is cute, but two though?
Give it to me, baby
You make me wanna make you fall in love”
-
He carries you into the bedroom bridal style, setting you down at the foot of the bed before leaning down to grab the end of your dress and pull it over your head, kissing his way up your body so slowly you feel like you might just die. By the time the fabric is over your head he throws it to the side, his gaze meeting yours in a tense blaze. 
You knew within an instant that he had gotten serious, and as you kept your gaze on his he let your hands roam until you begin pulling his undershirt off before you reach to undo his waistband. “What’s that look for?”
“Did you know….” He keeps his voice to a whisper as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his pants, pulling off his socks and throwing everything to the side before moving his hands to either side of your cheeks. “That it’s not actually proven that the amount of orgasms a women has is connected to their ability to conceive.”
“Yeah?” You smile, waiting for him to get to the point 
“I did a lot of research.” He says proudly, “So though the amount of orgasms I give you don’t end up mattering in the end…..they sure are fun.”
And you can’t fight the loud laugh that escapes when he gently tackles you onto the bed, making it bounce a bit as he pushes your thighs open with his hands and pressing them into you by the backs of them. 
“You ready doll?”
“Always for you sergeant.”
-
“Adore me
Hold me and explore me
Mark your territory (Ah-ah)
Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)”
-
He keeps the eye contact, soft and open, as he slides himself between your folds to use your past orgasms as his lubricant before pressing into your center and moaning a bit as he pushes himself in. Whereas the romp downstairs had been feral and fast this one started slow, allowing him to kiss at your face as you adjusted to his size this time. 
His weight presses you into the bed, and your hands find purchase at his back so he can pull himself back before pushing his hips back into yours. Slow and precise, every pull he left a kiss and every push has just enough friction on your core that has you arching your back. 
It had been years of him learning your body and by this point he knew how to play it like the back of his hand. It was his and he liked keeping what's his cared for. When you arched a little more he knew he should speed up, and when you closed your eyes he reached a hand down to grip at the fat of your ass, fingers digging in as he readjusted you both for more pleasure. 
And once you came around him, spasming and moaning loudly, all bets were off. 
-
“Adore me
Hold me and explore me (Ah-ah)
I'm so fuckin' horny
Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one”
-
His entire weight comes down, crushing you beneath him not that your complaining. Between the warmth of his skin and the mix of your sweat with his you both have traction to move as his thrusts turn wild. 
Over and over at a speed he hadn’t reached with you before, his eyes are clenched shut as he ruts into you, overstimulating you as you begin to sob from the pleasure. Your entire body shakes with every intense hump. 
Between his thrusts you meet your peak once more, screaming out as his own thrusts become erratic and harsher. 
By the time he finishes he leans down to your ear so you can hear the heavy moan that escapes him as he fills you to the brim, shaking and pinching you with his metal arm. And his release seems never ending as he continues to thrust, until you are both completely spent and collapse into the cool sheets. 
-
“(Oh, I) I know you want my touch for life
If you love me right, then who knows?
I might let you make me Juno
You know I just might (Might)”
-
You had managed to fall asleep and only woke up at the realization that he wasn’t near you, vision blurry as you looked around. He had cleaned you up and tucked you in with a glass of water on the nightstand, but his side of the bed was  empty. 
So you sit up, ready to go check on him, until you realize how sore you were and stay on the bed to listen for him. You hear the sound of him shuffling around downstairs to check all the locks before he begins climbing up the stairs. 
You know he makes the noise for you, otherwise he would be as stealthy as an assassin. 
By the time he enters the doorway there is a small smile playing at his lips while you open your arms and pull him in to lay with you. 
“Goodnight.” You whisper. 
“Goodnight, Doll.”
-
“Let you lock me down tonight
One of me is cute, but two though?
Give it to me, baby
You make me wanna make you fall in love”
-
The waiting was the most dreadful feeling. 
Sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the test sitting on the counter between where you sat and where your husband sat in the hallway with the back of his head laid against the door. 
It was silent but not in a malicious way, more of a calming way as his metal hand whirred before the alarm on your phone goes off and you both shoot up to look. 
“Is it…”
“I….”
And you both lean to look at the same time to see just how well those new positions took.
-
301 notes · View notes
menacingpolkamusic · 2 days ago
Text
It's social justice telephone. "Trans men don't have all the privileges of cis men" -> "all men are oppressed for being men." "If you refuse to acknowledge that patriarchy also hurts men, the most vulnerable of them are going to go somewhere that actually listens to their problems and violent misogynists are going to give them the wrong solution" -> "if you were a little nicer to that catcaller he would change."
Because people hear "men" and the first thing that pops into their head is "my abuser." Most of us (there's always gonna be assholes in the conversation) are not talking about their abuser. We're talking about vulnerable men who have legitimate issues with patriarchy. There's a reason people are passing around bell hooks.
We're talking about men who truly want to be allies but are intimidated by women's valid frustrations, such as this man on the Chewed Gum show talking about his feelings on the man/bear question. Alyssa Ljub had a great response at 34:30 (abridged version):
[...] My brother [...] struggled a lot with being a very like sensitive, emotional kind of guy and that manifested as being angry and defensive when he was a teenager and through his more younger adult years, now he's 32 and a full adult and he's really understanding that what he's wanting to express is a more full range of emotions, but he didn't feel comfortable doing that because he was falling into that same mental pattern of that's not manly, men don't cry [...]
In the process of writing the TED Talk, I had given it to my brother to read and he went over it and [...] he encouraged me to look at it again and every time I referred to these like really atrocious things that had happened to women throughout time [...] he encouraged me to look at it and really consider [...] is "man" the word that I want to use, is it because men did this or is it the patriarchy, is it this system that we've created.
And at the end of the day, he was right because we all are victims of this same mentality, like this patriarchal mind space is the reason why [...] you are not super comfortable expressing a full range of emotions or it took you a long time to get there, similarly with my brother and similarly with how we all [choose the] bear and then we have a hard time understanding how men can't see it.
It's all the same system, it's the same machine and so there's a part of me that's always sort of like, it feels good to join in other voices that are able to say "bear and fuck the men who don't understand and that's not my job to teach them" and blah, blah, blah, like there's part of it that will always feel like turning the knife and it feels good for that moment but that's not actually a productive conversation and [...] that's not helping anybody.
And so the other part of it is, okay, [...] we're in this dialogue and [...] oh my gosh, men don't actually see it, they don't really understand why we feel that way and if they can't really understand it and they're in the same system that we are, it kind of is our responsibility to explain because if we don't, we're leaving them to their own devices to figure it out and when they're left to their own devices, they're at the hands of the same system that's telling them to shut down their emotions, be defensive and ignore what we're describing as physical risk that we feel with with strange men and that's not helpful, that's not helping anybody grow.
And so it's frustrating to some women, [...] "I shouldn't have to explain that" and I 100% get that, that's so valid but I think in this conversation, when we talk about how we move forward from how we have pushed men into being a specific type of person that is fitting into [...] this prototype [of] being really tough and minimizing emotions and unable to be vulnerable so that they can appear strong, when we've put men into that space, what pulls them out of it is vulnerability and softness and care and saying it's actually okay for you to want to be emotional in this time and it's actually completely okay that you're hearing this argument where people are saying bear over and over and you're like, "what the hell, I worked so hard to be the kind of man that people would be comfortable around and [...] I worked so hard to undo everything that I was inundated with as a child, like, and you still said bear?"
[...] I would encourage anybody who's listening who has that reaction of like, "I don't want to have to explain it to people. And if they don't get it, that's on them." I would encourage them to also consider how productive that conversation is. And if you, in that very moment, wanted to be productive. Sometimes we're like, "this is not worth it, I don't feel like having this conversation," whatever, that's fine [...]
I feel like that's the biggest thing that is inhibited for so many men in this system. They're not given the permission to feel everything that they want to feel and have a safe space where there might be an adult or a therapist, whatever, whoever is around them to say, "it's okay that you feel that way. And at the same time, the reason why women are saying bear is because even though you're a safe space, the information that we have, the statistics that we have about how many men are not is enough to make me say bear."
But I think at least in the way that I've experienced this conversation, especially with someone close to me, like my brother, where I've grown up with him obviously, and I've known him my whole life and seeing what made the biggest difference for him was allowing him to feel vulnerable and feel the full range of his emotions and actually process them through. Like actually see [...] "these are all the things I'm feeling and this is how we're gonna resolve it. And now I've learned something because I've actually resolved this feeling."
Notice how the person in question is her brother. It's not the catcaller who's feelings she's trying to look out for, it's someone she wants a relationship with. She could have written him off as just another angry cis man when he was a teenager, but she didn't. And now he understands a little of women's perspective and will hopefully try to reach men who wouldn't listen to women.
She recommends bell hooks as well.
Nooo mutual don’t put that “men fall down the alt-right pipeline bc women/feminists are too mean” post on my dash nooo mutual don’t try to say women need to be nicer when dealing with misogynistic men nooo mutual nooo
8K notes · View notes