#especially when one of the people is just. pushing on my buttons for a few weeks now and I have to fight myself to not reply snarkily to her

[me-thal]

Having a very Bad week™

[navybrat817]

Knock You Down a Peg or Two

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Someone learns the hard way that it's a bad idea to upset Bucky's wife.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), protective vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'm in a mood, lovelies. We can consider this in the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and Handsome and Beautiful. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was no longer the Winter Soldier. He told himself every day he wasn't a cold killer anymore. He did his best to make amends and worked hard to clear his name. From time to time though, people pushed his buttons and got under his skin. You helped him brush it off. Their opinions didn't matter at the end of the day, only yours.

You mattered to him more than anything else. So, if someone bothers him, yeah, he could let it go. Someone upsetting you? He wouldn't stand for it.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he spotted the little weasel sitting at the table in the break room alone. A few hours ago, you called him to vent about how this guy repeatedly tried to make you look bad in front of your superior during a meeting. It wasn’t the first time either. Your tears of frustration were obvious by your tone on the other end, though you tried to hide them. You worked hard, harder than anyone else he knew, and you took your job seriously.

He saw red when he heard you sniffle and it was the only color he had seen since then.

“Give me his name.”

“Bucky, no,” you had argued. “The guy’s a prick and I just needed to vent, so you don’t-”

“Please, baby,” he whispered, knowing full well you could handle yourself, but you were his wife and someone took joy out of your day. Not just that, they made you cry. He took this personally and he wanted to defend you. “Just give me his name so I can take care of it.”

You softly gave him the name, and he made it a priority to find the asshole. It didn’t take him long. No one even questioned why he was asking. It must’ve been his “murder strut” and glare. You once said it could break even the strongest of people.

He headed toward the empty chair beside the agent, careful not to make a sound. His stealth assisted with that. Once he reached the chair though, he made it a point to scrap the chair across the floor to get the prick's attention. The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to fear when he realized who he was looking at.

Good. He hoped he pissed his pants.

He made a show of slipping off his leather jacket before taking a seat, making sure the agent got a good look at his metal arm. He also made a show of getting one of his knives out, one you gifted him. “I think we can skip the introductions since you know who I am and I really don't give a shit who you are,” he began, his voice low as he twirled the knife between his fingers. “But I understand you know my wife and, well, she’s the reason I’m here.”

The guy blinked when Bucky made eye contact, the blade still expertly weaving in his hand. “S-Sure. Everyone knows your wife.”

Bucky smiled softly, taking a second to glance at his wedding band. “I’m usually not one to brag, but I can’t help it when it comes to her. She works hard and deserves all the praise she gets, but she’s still humble. Appreciative. Loyal,” he boasted, still smiling before he glared again. “She’d never throw anyone under the bus, especially in front of a superior.”

The little weasel cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He seemed to notice for the first time that they were the only two people there. “Look, I don’t know what your wife said, but-”

Bucky pointed the blade at him. “I would think very carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” he snarled, his eyes as cold as ice.

There was a beat of silence as the guy squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. Bucky wished you were there to see it. And Steve and Sam. “I may have run my mouth a bit. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two, you know? She keeps getting promoted and…” he swallowed when Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. If this fucker even thought about implying that you slept your way to get where you were today, he may actually cut his throat. “Please, don't kill me.”

The silence after that statement may have been uncomfortable for some, but Bucky didn’t break a sweat. No, he was just thinking of all the different ways he could put him in the hospital for even thinking he had a right to put you down. Putting the knife away, he slowly got to his feet. “Get up,” he said quietly, flexing his hands in intimidation.

“Fuck.” The man nearly knocked his chair over as he stood. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, putting his hands out in front of him. “I’ll apologize to her first thing tomorrow, I swear.”

“You think that makes up for it? And are you sorry for trying to make her look bad or are you sorry that you’re under my radar now?” Bucky’s stare remained steady as he knocked his chair out of the way, the piece of furniture nearly splintering when it hit the wall. “Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but do you know what happens to people who upset. My. Wife?”

Bucky refused to say that you cried. The asshole might take that as a sign of victory and he wouldn’t give him any sort of win. He didn’t deserve it. He didn't deserve to be in the same space as you.

The guy’s mouth parted as he took a few steps back on shaky legs. “I-It won’t happen again! I swear!”

“No, it won't, but how about I cut your tongue out so you can’t run your mouth again? Maybe pull out your teeth, too?” Bucky knocked the table away next as he advanced. “Or how about your eyes so you won’t look at her either. Hell, I’ll settle for taking your arm. We’ll match.”

The man let out what sounded like a whimper, his teeth nearly chattering from his fear. Scaring people had given him nightmares, haunted him, but it fueled his fire when he terrified anyone in your honor. “I won’t bother her ever again! I’ll tell my boss she deserves another promotion! I'll transfer! You have my word! I’m sorry!”

Bucky laughed after a moment, a bitter, chilling sound before he held up a hand. “I’m just fucking with you.”

His eyes were still wide with fear. “W… What?”

“I was just trying to scare you a little. You should see the look on your face,” Bucky chuckled again, lightly smacking the guy’s cheek. “Listen, you don’t have to transfer and I’m not going to torture you. Just apologize to my girl and we’re good, okay?”

“Okay.” He let out a breath and chuckled, too. “You really won’t torture me?”

“No, I won’t,” he grinned, grabbing his shoulders. “But I will knock you down a peg or two.”

The prick didn’t see the headbutt coming, but he felt it before he hit the ground. Bucky knew he’d feel it in the morning, too. He got off lucky.

“You know, after you apologize to my wife, I hope you do stay so you can see her continue to thrive,” Bucky toed the guy’s body with his boot. “And speaking of, I need to go buy her some flowers, chocolate, and wine. She deserves it.”

Grabbing his jacket from the broken chair across the room and brushing it off, he whistled as he left the room. He waited until he was a good distance away to call. You picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” You sounded much better than you did earlier. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “I headbutted the prick. And before you ask, my head feels great.”

The former assassin may get suspended for that and damaging the table and chair, but he doubted the asshole would have the balls to speak up about what happened.

“Bucky…” you sighed. You were probably pinching the bridge of your nose. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“You’re gonna let me eat you for dessert when I get home,” he smirked. Not that he needed an excuse to dive between your legs, but he'd take any chance he had. “Figure I'll give you at least two orgasms before dinner.”

“Is that right, Mr. Barnes?”

“That is right, Mrs. Barnes.”

The sound of your giggle spread warmth through his chest. Your happiness was his happiness. “Better not keep me waiting,” you teased, pausing for a beat. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said. You always stuck up for him without question.

“Love you.”

His heart swelled more. “Love you, too.”

He’d have some more explaining to do once he got home and would probably have to pay for the damage he caused. He was also sure that you were plotting the demise of the man’s career and would tell him that he didn’t need to do anything, but he wanted to. He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

But he was your husband and he’d defend you with his life, no matter what.

Violence isn't the answer, but this is fanfiction and we all deserve a loving Bucky. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[wonsiwon]

party’s over, pack your stuff | l.hs

synopsis | when heeseung returns from a party, he’s met with the shocking sight of his furious girlfriend tossing his belongings out the window and locking him out of the house. caught in the middle of a heated argument, the two find themselves pushing each other’s buttons, testing patience and limits as frustration and love clash in a chaotic standoff.

genre | stablished relationships?, fluff, angst, cracked

pairing | bf! heeseung x fem!reader

you and heeseung had been together for two years, and while there were plenty of good moments, the bad ones seemed to creep in more often lately. the fights were becoming a regular thing, especially on the afternoons after he came back from parties. he’d spend hours at a friend’s place, leaving you at home, overthinking and imagining the worst. he’d stopped inviting you to these big gatherings, and it was hard not to wonder if he was cheating. the thought of him with someone else, while you were lying awake trying to convince yourself it wasn’t true, was eating you alive.

then today, everything you feared felt real. you got pictures of him at a party, grinning at some blonde girl—the same grin that used to be just for you.

heeseung didn’t see himself as a cheater. in his mind, he was just being “nice,” brushing off the attention he got because of his looks. but that smile, the one he flashed at other girls, made you want to punch him in the face.

it was around 3:20 in the afternoon when heeseung pulled into the driveway, still half-drunk and barely focused on the road. all he could think about was crashing into bed—probably not with you since he already expected a fight. not that it mattered to him; you’d forgive him eventually. or so he thought.

he didn’t even get the chance to park properly when he spotted you through the window. without thinking, he jumped out of the car, his eyes scanning the scene. clothes were scattered all over the grass, and then, just as he stepped closer, a pair of jeans flew out the window, landing in a messy heap.

“what are you doing?” heeseung asked, his eyes flicking between the clothes scattered on the ground and your furious figure at the window. “are those my clothes?”

you didn’t bother answering. instead, you grabbed a shoe and hurled it at him, hitting him square in the head.

“baby, what the hell?” heeseung muttered, trying to dodge the rain of items falling from the window. he knelt down, quickly stuffing clothes into his arms, but it felt like no matter how much he picked up, more kept falling.

“grab your stuff and get out of here.” you said, and tossed a pair of jeans at him.

heeseung caught them mid-air and looked down. “are those my favorites?” he asked, still not fully understanding what was happening.

he then glanced around, noticing people from the neighborhood walking by and stopping to watch. he could feel the eyes on him, making the situation even more awkward.

heeseung was completely thrown off guard. he didn’t understand what was happening. it didn’t make sense to him.

“can you just—” he started, but the words got stuck. “what’s going on?” he looked up at you again, trying to find some clue in your expression, but you just stood there, arms crossed, staring at him coldly.

heeseung sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy hair as he stood there, surrounded by his stuff scattered all over the grass. his headache was getting worse, and your angry expression through the window wasn’t making it any better.

“y/n, can we just talk like adults?” he pleaded, trying to calm the situation down.

“adults?” you snapped, leaning out the window with a glare. “were you acting like an adult when you were grinning at that blonde all night?”

heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. his mind went back to the party last night, and after a few seconds, his eyes widened as it hit him what this was all about. “you’ve got it all wrong—”

“wrong?!” you interrupted, your voice trembling with anger. “what part of you smirking at her, leaning in all close, and god knows what else am i getting wrong?!”

“she was just talking to me! i wasn’t doing anything!” heeseung argued, waving his hands in a dismissive gesture. “you always overthink this stuff. it’s exhausting!”

“oh, i’m exhausting?!” you yelled, throwing a sweatshirt at him with force. “you know what’s exhausting, heeseung? sitting here, while the guy i’ve been with for two years goes around dipping his dick in any female that flashes him a smile!”

heeseung’s eyes widened, and he snapped back, his voice rising. “are you serious right now? i wasn’t fucking anyone, y/n! she was just talking to me! you’re blowing this way out of proportion!”

“talking?” you laughed bitterly, leaning further out the window. “heeseung, do you even hear yourself? do you think i’m stupid? you didn’t even bother inviting me to the party!”

heeseung threw his hands up in frustration. “y/n, it’s not what you think! i didn’t invite you because i knew you hate those parties!”

you clenched your fists at your sides, voice shaking with anger. “was it good, huh? was it good fucking that bitch while you had your actual girlfriend at home?”

heeseung’s eyes widened, completely caught off guard. “what the hell are you talking about?” he shot back, gripping the sneakers you threw at him. “i didn’t sleep with anyone!”

“stop lying!” you spat, leaning even further out the window, your anger boiling over.

“y/n..” he started, his voice getting more desperate. “you’re seriously out of your mind right now. i wasn’t doing anything! i didn’t touch her, i didn’t—”

“save it!” you interrupted, gripping the window frame to steady yourself.

heeseung dropped the pile of clothes back onto the grass and started walking toward the door, his face set with determination.

“don’t bother.” you said, a hint of satisfaction in your voice while holding up a shiny new set of keys. “i changed the handle.”

heeseung stopped in his tracks, looking at you, completely shocked. “why the fuck would you do that?” his eyes narrowing as he looked at the keys in your hand. his mind was still reeling from the argument, but now he was thrown off even more by what you just said.

you just smirked as you held up the keys. “you really thought you could just walk in here and keep doing whatever you want?”

heeseung’s jaw clenched, and he dragged his tongue across his cheek, clearly trying to keep his temper in check. both hands rested on his hips as he glared at you. “so, this is how it’s gonna be now? you’re locking me out like some stranger?” he was furious—this whole situation felt ridiculous to him. “you really think a locked door is gonna stop me?”

you rolled your eyes, leaning against the frame. “what are you gonna do, heeseung? break a window? crawl through the vents?”

he chuckled darkly. “did you change the back door too?”

your face went pale. you hadn’t. and even though you could’ve lied, you knew he wouldn’t buy it—your hesitation was clear. you watched his eyes flick to the side of the house, and then it clicked. before you could react, heeseung was already walking toward the edge of the house, that knowing smirk spreading across his face.

“gotcha.”

panic set in, and you pushed off the window frame, clutching the keys tightly in your hand. “this motherfucker..” you muttered under your breath.

heeseung took off running toward the backyard, vaulting over the fence with ease. panicking, you bolted down the stairs, nearly tripping as you tried to beat him to the door.

you hated yourself for how dumb you’d been, but even more, you hated the fact that heeseung was actually pretty smart. too smart. and the worst part? he wasn’t wrong. as much as you wanted to blame him for being insufferable, you couldn’t deny it was your own slip-up that handed him the upper hand. again.

you cursed under your breath, skidding to a halt in front of the door just in time to see heeseung standing in the frame, his tall figure all over you. his smirk was insufferable as he leaned against the door, looking down at you with a cocky expression.

you gasped, turning on your heels and sprinting back toward the stairs. “i hate you!” you shouted as heeseung darted after you, his long strides closing the distance quickly.

“i know you don’t, princess!” he called out, laughing as he chased you up the stairs.

your heart raced as you reached the top, your mind scrambling for a plan. heeseung wasn’t about to let this go, and you weren’t ready to give in just yet. you slammed the door of the bedroom, hoping to lock it before heeseung reached you. but just as it was about to close, his foot wedged itself in the gap.

“leave me alone!” you yelled, your voice desperate as you pushed against the door with all your strength.

“not a chance.” heeseung growled, using his weight to push it open.

the door flew back, forcing you to stumble a few steps away. before you could react, heeseung grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but not painful.

“let me go!” you shouted, twisting and squirming in his hold, trying to free yourself.

“stop it, y/n!” he barked, his voice low and steady, though his breathing was heavy from the chase. “you’re acting like a kid.” heeseung’s grip tightened for a second, but he didn’t pull you back. his gaze softened just a little, and his voice dropped. “baby, stop. i’m just trying to talk.”

but you weren’t ready to listen. you were too angry. “i don’t care what you’re trying to do.” you snapped, pushing against his chest. “you don’t get to act like nothing’s wrong when you’re out there doing god knows what with other girls.”

heeseung couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, the tension in his body easing slightly. “i didn’t do anything, baby. it was just a stupid conversation—nothing more.”

“bullshit!” you yelled, shoving against him harder, but all it did was make him chuckle. “why are you laughing? you think this is funny?”

“i’m not..” he said, his smile only growing wider. “it’s just funny how you get like this, all grumpy.” he reached out and pinched your nose, a playful gesture that only made you more frustrated.

you swatted his hand away, glaring at him. “this isn’t funny, heeseung!” you snapped, your voice sharp with annoyance.

he raised his hands in mock surrender, still smirking. “okay, okay. i get it. but you’re overreacting, baby.” his tone was teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness in his eyes. “i’m not doing anything wrong.”

“you always say that,” you shot back, your anger flaring again. “how am i supposed to believe you?”

“listen, i don’t know who sent you that picture, but i swear, princess, i wasn’t flirting with her.” he stepped closer, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you can ask my friends.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “i don’t trust your friends.”

he raised an eyebrow, his tone calm but firm. “you trust jungwon though. he was there.”

the mention of jungwon made you pause for a moment. jungwon was the calm one in the group, always reliable, and someone you could count on when it came to keeping things straight. but the one you should really keep an eye on was no one but jake. he was the king of stirring up trouble, and you couldn’t count the number of times he’d egged heeseung on to do something stupid.

your silence gave heeseung an opening. he softened his voice, stepping closer, but still keeping a little distance to test the waters. “look, i get it. i screwed up, and yeah, maybe i should’ve kept my distance from her. but you know me, baby. you know me. i don’t care about anyone else.”

you rolled your eyes, though your resolve was faltering slightly. “you’re always sweet-talking your way out of this stuff, heeseung. it doesn’t change the fact that you were grinning at her like she was the most interesting person in the world.”

“sweet-talking?” he repeated, a playful smirk creeping back onto his face. “baby, i don’t need to sweet-talk. i’m just telling you the truth.”

heeseung took another step forward, and this time you didn’t move back. he reached for your hands, holding them gently in his. his thumbs brushed against your knuckles in slow, soothing circles.

“i don’t want to fight with you anymore..” he said softly, his voice steady and earnest. “you’re the one i come home to. you’re the one i care about. that’s not going to change because of some random girl at a party.”

you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “i’ll forgive you… only if you stop going to these stupid parties. and definitely not hang out when jake’s around.”

heeseung nodded quickly, a look of relief washing over his face. “i promise, no more parties like that. and no more hanging around jake if it’s going to make you this upset.”

you felt his hands gently grip your waist, but you didn’t pull away. instead, you looked him in the eyes, studying his expression. “i mean it, heeseung. i don’t care how much fun you think you’re having. if i ever catch you doing something like that again—”

“you won’t.” he cut in and gave you a reassuring squeeze. “no more parties, no more drama, just us.”

you let out a small sigh, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “good. that’s what i need to hear.”

you let him pull you into a hug, though you kept your arms at your sides, still not fully giving in. he pressed his chin against the top of your head, his voice soft as he muttered, “thank you, baby. i’m glad we’re on the same page now.”

you stayed there for a moment, both of you just breathing, when suddenly he froze, his expression shifting. “wait—” he said, looking toward the window. “the clothes.”

you followed his gaze, realizing he was just now remembering the mess outside. before you could say anything, he groaned and buried his face in his hands. “god, the neighbors must think we’re insane.”

you crossed your arms, smirking. “well, we kinda are.”

heeseung turned back to you with a playful pout. “can’t believe i almost lost my future wife and my home in one day.”

your cheeks burned at his words, but you refused to let him off that easy. “future wife?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “who said i’d marry you after this?”

he grinned, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around you again. “you’ll forgive me.” he said confidently. “you love me too much.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “you better start picking up those clothes before i change my mind.”

heeseung groaned dramatically, dropping his head onto your shoulder. “can’t we just leave them there? maybe the wind will blow them away or something.”

you pushed him off with a light shove, crossing your arms. “nice try. i’m not going to be the one explaining to the neighbour why your underwear is hanging from her tree.”

heeseung winced at the thought, rubbing the back of his neck. “fine, fine. but you’re helping me. you threw them out, after all.”

you raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “oh no, this is all on you, mister. think of it as your punishment.”

he sighed, giving you a mock glare before turning toward the stairs. “you’re cruel, y/n. absolutely ruthless.”

“and don’t forget it.” you shot back, following him downstairs to the front yard.

the scene outside was somehow even more chaotic than you remembered. a couple of kids from down the street were pointing and giggling as they passed by, and neighbour from next door was giving heeseung a very disapproving look from his porch.

“great.” heeseung muttered under his breath, bending down to pick up a pair of socks. “i’m the neighborhood clown now.”

you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched him gather his clothes, his tall frame awkwardly hunched as he tried to scoop up as much as he could at once. “well, you kind of earned it.” you teased, leaning against the fence.

heeseung straightened up, his arms full of crumpled t-shirts and jeans. “yeah, yeah. laugh it up. just wait until i get back inside.”

you tilted your head, smirking. “oh? and what are you going to do? throw all your clothes back out?”

he flashed you a grin, the kind that made your stomach flip despite everything. “nah. i’ll just make you fold all of them.”

you rolled your eyes, but a small smile crept onto your face. “dream on, heeseung.”

he chuckled, shaking his head as he bent down to grab the last of his things. as much as you wanted to stay mad at him, moments like this reminded you why you’d stuck around for two years. heeseung was frustrating, infuriating even, but he was also the guy who could make you laugh when you least expected it.

as he stood up, arms overflowing with clothes, he looked over at you with a sheepish smile. “uh, a little help?”

you sighed, walking over to take some of the load off his hands. “you’re lucky i don’t actually hate you.”

heeseung’s grin widened as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “and i’m lucky you’re still here.”

[irisintheafterglow]

you make loving fun

summary: last time you checked, itoshi sae was terrible with children...right?

cw/tags: crack...just a lot of bllk boys interacting with kids, established relationship, ooc sae if you squint, occurs just after u-20 game

wc: 2.5k

note: this was meant to just be a drabble but ended up being a one-shot so...surprise! this came to me in a dream LMAO so hopefully it makes sense.

as you carefully line up the excited kids outside of the blue lock complex, you're almost grateful that ego doesn't greet you; from anri's descriptions of him, it sounded like he would frighten the children from ever thinking of a soccer ball ever again. it's just her, a few security guards, and--

"oh my god, is that itoshi sae?"

you stiffen and look up from your clipboard, something between leaping and sinking occurring in your heart. he wore his signature bored expression, but you could catch the corner of his mouth twitch when he made eye contact with you. ever the drama queen, your boyfriend (whose relationship status was yet to be disclosed to the public) had failed to inform you that he would be making an appearance at the first-ever 'blue lock youth outreach day,' considering that he had nothing but dry observations after the u-20 game. you were under the impression that he wanted nothing to do with the program, and figured that his sudden participation was a way to get back at you for being so consumed with work.

in hindsight, the collab seemed like a good enough idea. you, the pr manager of the largest youth soccer league in the country, and anri, an acquaintance you'd met through piano lessons who conveniently has a job in the most cutting-edge soccer training program in history. it was a headache, at first, especially with a certain moody player from madrid trying to convince you that it was a waste of time (anything was a waste of time if it wasn't with him). but, dozens of emails and a stack of field trip signatures later, you were loading thirty of the brightest soccer minds you knew--albeit between the ages of eight and thirteen--onto a school bus and headed toward the pentagonal fortress in the mountains.

"what are you doing here?" you ask him as evenly as possible while anri guides you and the kids through the maze of concrete hallways. "you hate children."

"hate is a strong word," he deadpans, his attention flicking to you when you answer with nothing more than an eyeroll. "can i not support the next generation of footballers?"

"you don't even support the current generation," you mumble. "i think it's fair to say this isn't usually your kind of event."

"it is when my partner has been ghosting me for it," he replies. some would think sae's declaration is nothing more than a push of your buttons, but you know him well enough that he was being purposefully petty. "i came to see what the big fuss is about."

"ghosting is a strong word," you mimic. he smirks, just barely. "radio silent, sure, but not enough for you to fly across the world to see some people you don't even like."

"god forbid i do something like miss you, cariño," he remarks with unexpected fondness underneath the blankness of his expression. "as professional and secretive as we keep things, your absence from my life is always noticeable."

"i was gonna call you later," you offer, and he narrows his eyes. "give you updates on how successful the event was and whatnot."

"phone calls aren't enough," he concludes. "i am here to support you, not whatever the brass are trying to concoct."

"how romantic," you chuckle. "i hope you'll play nice today, then?"

"only for you. not anyone else."

"with the kids and the blue lock players?" something in his jaw tightens, but he relents nonetheless.

"fine. i will be cordial with them, too."

"you really do love me." you can't help the grin that breaks onto your face, but you're back to perfect professionalism a second later. with his phone on silent and one of his managers mitigating the rest of his team, he was content to breathe the same air as you before the chaos of being a football star reinvaded his life.

"mmm, something like that." for now, this was his closest thing to peace.

the other blue lock players seem to mirror your initial shock from sae's presence, though most of their demeanors change upon the entrance of the young, prospective soccer stars. the kids are chomping at the bit to get their cleats on and practically climb over each other to start drills with each player. the files anri had sent to you proved handy, as you instantly recognized who was who based on the skills they were teaching the kids.

bachira had half a dozen following him through a dribbling drill, their movements all in perfect precision like a line of ducklings. when one ball went astray, he shifted the entire formation in a lesson on 'improvising.' yukimiya and karasu, similarly, were teaching how to steal from a player whose dribbling leaves your head spinning.

chigiri was running sprints with his group, one by one, and advising them when their best opportunity would be to accelerate based on what he observed. he had a line spanning half the field, eagerly waiting to race the fastest striker in the program like he was a carnival game. aryu provided additional recommendations on when to leap and use height as a weapon, something the youngest and shortest kids quickly internalized with a sparkle in their eyes.

nagi didn't say much, which was fine, since reo was there to fill in his blanks; the kids in their group were currently balancing balls on various parts of their bodies, including every possible angle on their foot.

barou, to your surprise, was not running a drill at all. instead, he had started a demonstration on how to properly braid the girls' hair back, how to do it on oneself, and how to do it on others. when you ask anri about it, she shrugs and explains that he has two sisters. you didn't question where he got all the hair ties from.

sitting against the wall, isagi was patiently making conversation with some of the quieter kids who tended to be more shy in new situations. they fidgeted with the grass beneath their fingers and smiled at him as they opened up about where they wanted to go with soccer. rin stood an awkward distance away and would stare at you occasionally, like he was trying to figure you out. guess both itoshi brothers have a habit of brooding and glaring.

you were making a point to avoid over-observing your boyfriend, but couldn't help noticing that he truly did not have a knack for coaching. interacting with children was never sae's strong point, and you tended to be the one to get down on their level and speak in a manner understandable to them. sae, on the other hand, once told you, verbatim, "kids are odd things. how do people deal with them?" thankfully, the kids in his group were too starstruck to notice how aloof their leader was and dutifully followed him through the same old drills their normal coaches ordered.

it was all fun and games until the children came up with a game they affectionately called 'steal from sae.' the goal was simple: steal the ball from sae as he tried to travel from one end of the field to the other and make a goal. the game started out as a group of five versus one, which he cleared without breaking a sweat. then, the five called over five of their friends, which soon turned into fifteen, which ultimately became the entire group of thirty children descending upon your boyfriend. the blue lock players observed the first few rounds from the sidelines, sadistically amused by the new challenge inflicted on the older itoshi brother. that is, until he barely dodges a wave of ten children and precisely positions the ball with the outside of his foot...right in front of isagi.

"let's go, rin's shadow," sae taunts and takes off, leaving a bewildered isagi to receive the ball in a panic and abruptly start running from the herd of youth-sized cleats coming his way.

"oh, wow, there's a lot of you," isagi nervously stutters. seven of your thirty break off to mark sae; the rest surround isagi, who makes a snap decision to send a long pass to the nearest person outside of the shrinking circle. "all up to you now, rin!" the second itoshi is fast, but chigiri's pupils are quick studies. three runners come at rin from the front, left, and right, blocking his passing opportunities.

"good acceleration, everyone," praises chigiri from the sidelines and rin fixes him with a scowl.

"shouldn't you be helping me, half-baked hair? let's see you get in on this mess," rin snarls, though it only hypes up the kids more.

"aww, are the little people stressing you out, rin?" yukimiya asks patronizingly, dancing around a group trying to corner him.

"shut your mouth, glasses. we're outnumbered here," rin shoots back, a little redder in the face. "and you all stress me out enough." if there was anything that amped up the kids' competitive spirits, it was seeing their opposition get riled up. though chigiri is completely open when rin passes him the ball, one of otoya's stealthy proteges makes quick work of stealing the ball and running it toward the opposite end, away from sae's goal.

"alright, show me what you learned, kiddo," karasu challenges as he rushes the mini-ninja, though you could tell he wasn't using all of his energy. none of them were, and you theorize that the blue lock players were actually enjoying this little back and forth between them and the kids. the game was a chance to not only play as one huge team, but also assess how much the next generation grasped from their lessons. from the way ten kids were now marking sae and the rest were attempting to curb karasu's trajectory, it seemed the odds were somewhat even.

otoya's student makes a short pass to one of bachira's, whose eyes are practically glowing as the ball weaves in and out of her legs like a snake. she and eight other girls have matching dutch braids keeping their hair out of their eyes, the day's crown achievement for barou.

"steal from her and i kill you, isagi!" he bellows despite being a blue lock player, barreling toward his team's incoming strikers and clearing a path for one of his girls to get closer to the other goal.

"i wasn't going to!?" your youngest kids are currently trapping isagi in a bear hug, preventing him from getting anywhere close to the ball. "i'm a little preoccupied!"

those in barou's path split with all the urgency of running from a freight train, leaving the girl to run freely down the middle. anri has appeared by your side and is watching with delight, snapping photos and taking videos that were sure to end up as positive pr for blue lock.

you catch him stalking up the right flank, evading children in one-on-ones and making steady progress toward the ball.

"watch out for sae! watch out for sae!" you call out and his head snaps to you, a look of bewilderment at your betrayal overtaking his carefree face. before he can get the ball, your kids run and tackle him, dogpiling on top of his body until the whistle sounds in the kids' victory. they cheer, still smothering your boyfriend, and you tense in anticipation of his harsh command to get them off of him.

but the only noise is whoops of celebration, high-fives, and pats on the back.

and when you catch a glimpse of sae's face as he's trapped under a mountain of giggling children, he's smiling.

---

later, when you're lying with your back against his bare chest and his forearm securely across your waist, you muster up the courage to ask.

"so, do you still hate kids?" he can hear you suppressing your smirk. he hums thoughtfully against your shoulder, the reverberation sending goosebumps across your arms.

"i need to get to know people to hate them."

"and?"

"didn't get to know 'em enough," he murmurs. "guess i'll just have to visit you again at work. for professional reasons, obviously."

"yeah," you agree, flipping to face him and brushing a strand of pink hair from his pretty face. he catches your fingers in his and kisses your knuckles, settling your hand right above his heart. "professional reasons."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[fakesimp]

Oh lovelies, we're lacking of zzz men content. So here—

A few Headcanons for my favorite zzz men from me <3

Hugo being not much of a sweet tooth, yet also having hypoglycemic is a bit frustrating for him. And so if you ever mention that you want him to eat sweets when you're out on a walk with him in exchange you'll also hare with him, he'll definitely tolerate it. Eating the sweets together with you. Why not?

Hugo will definitely whisper sweet nothings into your ear just to get a reaction out of you. He'll bask into your flustered face, like he knows how attractive his voice is. And he'll use it to his advantage. Especially when you say that you like his voice.

Harumasa is a clingy man. He'll cling to you, dramatically telling you that he's sick (when he's clearly not) just so you can get him off from work. And it works, sometimes. You'll oblige into this dramatic moments of his. Sometimes you don't, and by you rejecting the idea to help him, you'll earn a pouty harumasa.

Harumasa will definitely cuddle you to seek comfort from his nightmares, at first, he won't hug you to sleep. But don't be surprised if in the middle of the night you feel a pair of arms wrapped around you, a familiar smell of a shampoo product strokes your nostrils, along with a few hair strands tickling your collarbone and neck.

Lycaon is actually easily flustered if you push the right buttons. And if you successfully fluster him, you'll have his tail wagging behind him, his ears folded downwards along with his hand covering his mouth. Letting out an awkward cough. And you can tell he likes it from how his tail is wagging behind him, betraying his calm and composed façade.

Lycaon screams act of service and word of affirmation, he'll follow you around, holding your shopping bags, complimenting you everytime you show him your choice of clothings or accessories. Reassuring you that you look stunning in anything you wear. And he definitely will buy you flowers, a bouquet of flowers that reminds him of you. He'll also keep one flower with him at Victoria housekeeping just so he knows when he needs to buy a new bouquet for you.

Lighter will always have candies with him, lemon candies. Out of the blue he'll offer some to you because he doesn't know how to initiate conversations, he's a pathetic hopeless romantic man. Yet also inexperienced with romance, so he'll ask a few things from you on what to do when people went out on a date. Though, there are moments where he'll take you out around the outer ring, with his bike. Taking you out to view the stars outside New eridu.

Lighter is a simple man, he'll be a putty in your hands if you ever decide to treat his wounds after he's done fighting in the ring. You'll have him just sit there, eyes staring at you like a lovesick man as you treat his wound with such gentle gesture. He never got that treatment, you're the first, and will be the last that he'll ever let someone entering his comfort zone.

Seth is a cutie, easily flustered. Just tease him a bit you'll have him red. Flirt with him, he'll malfunction. A stuttering mess even. But there are times when he's so oblivious to your flirts that you literally have to tell him that you're flirting with him, and it will definitely, once again, fluster the poor boy.

Seth never let anyone touch his tail despite how fluffy it looks (look at it, like how can you not have the urge to touch it?) but if you ask him nicely, he'll let you. And by Gods is he obsessed with how gentle you are with it, especially when you decide to brush his tail? He'll shyly ask you to brush his tail next time you meet. If only you know that ever since you brush his tail the first time, he purposely stop taking care of it just so he could feel your touch again.

Wise have a protective instinct due to his older brother nature, so he's definitely protective when it comes to you. Despite his protective self, he also respects your personal space. But when it comes to cuddling session? Sorry to say he'll pout if you don't let him cuddle with you. He'll even go as far as sleeping on the couch if you reject his cuddles. You literally have to softly coax him back to bed, because he's not going back to the bed until you convince him to that you'll cuddle with him.

Wise too gentle, too forgiving sometimes. Yet also too dense to realize that someone loved him, it frustrates you with how oblivious he is. Or, ..maybe he doesn't. Maybe he hides his feelings too well. You just need to see deeper into his actions, maybe you'll see bits of his reciprocation of your love.

©fakesimp • 2025 || Do not copy/translate/use for ai

Okay, that's all from meee, once again, disclaimer this is a few Headcanons from me about my favourite zzz men. Hope you enjoy it <3

We need more zzz men content, though the zzz women contents are all good food 🤤.

[watchmegetobsessed]

PLAYER

A/N: this fic has been on my mind for over a week, but i just couldn't get it written the way i wanted, im still not entirely satisfied with it, but at least it's done and i didn't stop writing after the first paragraph like i did about six times lol

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

SUMMARY: Your roommate has locked you out of your room for a hookup, so you end up having to spend the night at Harry's, the boy you've been eager to keep yourself away from since you shared a rather passionate kiss. You 're convinced that the two of you do not belong together... right?

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The place feels eerily empty even though there was a raging party happening just an hour ago, but now only the trash and leftover snacks and drinks reminds you of it all. You’re standing in the middle of the living room, arms folded over your chest as you assess the room, especially the couch. It seems comfortable enough to accommodate you for the night, but the wine stain in the middle is what concerns you the most. Maybe if you covered it with a blanket or something, it wouldn’t be that–

“Hope you’re not thinking about sleeping on that couch.”

Harry’s voice makes you jump, even though you’ve been hearing him moving around in the kitchen, collecting trash. He is still wearing the same black shirt he wore at the party, but most of the buttons are undone, giving you a great view of his tattooed chest and you can’t push down the memory of the feeling of it under your touch when you were kissing him just a few weeks ago. 

Nope, you cannot be thinking about that. You have to be strong, you remind yourself. That kiss is something that will never happen again, no matter how badly your body is aching for it. 

You and Harry do not belong together, that’s a fact. If you took that one passionate kiss further, that would result in a disaster, you’re certain about that. 

Your eyes snap up to his face, realizing you haven’t answered him and you have no doubt he knows what you’ve been thinking about, that tiny smirk hiding in the corner of his mouth is a tell he can see right through you, but you choose to ignore it. 

“I’ll be fine for just one night,” you nod, hoping to look a lot more confident than you feel right now. 

“Y/N, some freshman spilled a whole cup of wine on the cushion.”

“I can just… turn it around, it’s alright.”

“Okay, then you might want to know that I have caught Niall having sex on that couch several times.”

At that, your eyes widen and that makes Harry laugh. 

“And you let people sit on it, knowing his bare… parts rubbed on it?” You give him a disgusted look, but he just shrugs his shoulders with a smirk, grabbing two empty beer bottles from the coffee table. 

“You’d be surprised how many surfaces you’ve touched in your life that were used for sex.”

“Don’t even plant that thought into my head,” you hold a hand up. He disappears in the kitchen and you hear the rustling of a trash bag, then he returns with one in hand and he starts collecting the abandoned cups and glasses. You feel stupid just standing around, so you start helping him. 

“I’ll just sleep in this armchair,” you offer, pointing at the comfy looking furniture in the corner of the room, but as soon as you look at Harry, you know it’s out of the game as well. “Jesus, is there a surface in this place where he hasn’t had sex?” you groan.

“Yeah, in my room. So you’re sleeping in my bed.” Harry answers, like it’s nothing, when your heart just jumped at the thought of sharing a bed with him. 

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Okay, then I’ll take the couch then,” he sighs, but guilt bubbles in your gut instantly. You can’t make him sleep on that couch when he is doing you a favor by letting you stay here while your roommate is occupying your dorm room with a guy she met tonight. 

“No, I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing you’re sleeping on… that.”

“Then we are out of options, Y/N. We either sleep in my bed or one of us doesn’t sleep.” He tilts his head at you and something is telling you he already knows you’ll give in. 

Of course you will.

“Okay,” you say, shoulders falling forward in defeat. “Thanks,” you add, to which he just nods. 

You help him clean for a bit more, but at around four in the morning you both decide the mess can wait until the morning. 

Entering Harry’s room your pulse instantly jumps again, it feels way too intimate. Seeing his rumpled sheets, the pile of laundry next to his wardrobe, his books stacked on the shelves and on his desk, the little trinkets here and there and the few photos on the wall above his desk. But your gaze inevitably migrates towards the bed that you’re about to share with him. 

“You can pick a side,” Harry says as he moves over to his wardrobe and grabbing a t-shirt with a pair of shorts, he steps to you, holding the clothes out. “The white towel in the bathroom is clean, you can use it.”

“Thanks,” you take them, your cheeks burning when your fingers brush against his for a second. Your gaze wanders over to the bed again and this time he catches it.

“If you’re worried my bed has the same issue as the couch, I’ll let you know nothing has ever happened here.”

That’s not what you were thinking about, but his confession surprises you. Harry is known as the guy every girl wants to hook up with and you’ve heard several rumors of one night stands spent with him, told by different girls on campus. Yet he is now telling you no one has ever had sex in his bed, including him.

“Nothing?” you ask, eyebrows rising. “What about…”

“All the gossip?” He arches an eyebrow at you, almost in an annoyed manner that makes you shut your mouth immediately. “Most of them aren’t true. I’ve only hooked up with two girls from school, both happened in their rooms.”

“Two? I’ve heard way more than that,” you say and almost instantly want to take it back when you see a hint of sadness in his eyes, though it passes quickly. 

“I admit I kissed more than just two, but some girls like to spread stories that never actually happened.”

“And you let them?”

Harry shrugs, though something is telling you he is not that nonchalant about this as he shows. He turns his back to you as he is rummaging through the wardrobe, though you feel like he is just trying to keep himself busy with something so he doesn’t have to look you in the eyes.

“What’s the use in embarrassing them and calling them out on the lie? They must have their reasons to tell people all that shit.”

“So you just let them spread whatever they want about you?”

“It always dies down after a while and I save myself the energy. Besides, some might still think I’m just denying it. It’s not like I can prove that something never happened.”

You open your mouth, ready to throw him another question, but none comes. In a weird, twisted way you understand his reasoning even though you don’t agree with it fully. But thinking about it you realize that he is right that not everyone might believe him over the girls, especially not now that so many stories have gone around about his alleged hookups. Who would believe they didn’t even happen?

And the worst of it? That you believed them too, never questioning them, not even when you started getting to know him. It’s been one of your biggest concerns about Harry, that he is just a typical fuckboy who likes to fool around with girls and then move on to the next one.

It’s one of the reasons you’ve been talking yourself out of giving him a chance.

“I’m sorry,” you manage to say and for him it sounds like you’re sorry he is so misjudged, but in your mind, you’re saying sorry for being one of those who misjudged him. 

“It’s fine, I don’t really care,” he shrugs, finally looking you in the eyes. “So, you want to go first?” he asks, nodding towards the bathroom. 

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

The shower feels nice, but Harry’s clothes on you feel nicer. You stare at yourself in the fogged up mirror you tried to clean with your hand. The clothes he handed you were surely clean, but still, you can smell his scent on them and it messes with your head to have it lingering around you at all times. 

You wash your teeth with your finger and make sure you don’t look like a raccoon, wiping off all the mascara from under your eyes before unlocking the door and stepping out, holding your own clothes to your chest. 

Harry is lying on the bed, scrolling on his phone and when he sees you, he puts the phone to the night stand, rising from the bed. 

“Pick a side,” he smiles before disappearing in the bathroom and a few moments later you hear the water running. 

You still feel quite out of place in his room, but at last you put your clothes to the chair by his desk, your eyes wandering up to the photos on the wall. In the middle you see one with two women and you catch on the resemblance right away, guessing it’s his mom and sister he has told you about before. He has one more with each of them too, the rest is with friends, some you know from school, some seemingly unknown to you, probably from home. He is smiling in almost all of them, except a few candid ones. 

This is the side of him you’ve gotten to know lately and this is the one that’s been pulling you in for sure. A side you didn’t know he had when you only knew The Harry Styles people often talked about on campus. Guilt washes over you once again for being so judgy about him. When you met him by total accident in the beginning of the semester, sitting next to each other at Economics and getting paired up for an assignment you couldn’t imagine a version of himself that wasn’t a cliché, popular guy who probably thought he owned the campus just for looking good, but as time went by and you got to know him better you had to realize your assumptions weren’t as accurate as you thought, though they remained in the back of your head. Especially when things started taking a different turn at a party a few weeks ago and you ended up making out in a dark room. It was probably the most passionate kiss you’ve ever gotten, but once the haze wore off panic settled in and you ran. 

Something in you convinced you that he just wants to hook up with you and nothing more, that he would throw you away once he got what he wanted so you told him it’s never happening and you two will only stay friends. 

He didn’t protest, though you saw something in his eyes that had you unsettled, maybe sadness, maybe disappointment, you couldn’t tell for sure, because it was gone quickly. 

You expected him to never talk to you again, but he was just as friendly to you in and out of class as before, though you could feel a sense of coldness in him that wasn’t there before. You’ve spent the past few weeks trying to convince yourself you and Harry would never work out, but now it seems like the biggest bullshit you’ve ever thought of. Harry has proven that he is not the guy people like to gossip about and now you feel like a jerk for never even giving him the chance. 

The bathroom door opens and you turn around, seeing him walk out in nothing else but a pair of boxer briefs. He steps to the wardrobe and grabs a white t-shirt, pulling it on while you try to gulp with a dry mouth. When he turns around you quickly try to pretend like you weren’t ogling him. Walking over to the bed you take the opposite side of where he laid before and you’re quick to get under the sheets, pulling them up to your neck. Harry shuffles around the room for a bit before getting in bed as well and when the mattress dips under his weight, your heart is beating in your throat. 

You’re so tired, you’d probably fall asleep right away if you closed your eyes, but you also kind of don’t want to sleep just yet, not when Harry is lying right next to you. 

“Thanks again for letting me stay,” you say, turning to your side to face him. 

“Well, you kind of just stayed without asking…”

At first your eyes widen, thinking that’s what happened, but then you see the cheeky smile spreading on his face and you know he is just messing with you. 

“Shut up! I did ask if I could stay and you said yes!” Laughing, you try to smack his head, but he is quick to grab your wrist, tugging on you a little so you end up moving closer to him. 

“You know I would always say yes to you, Y/N.”

The laughing has ended and your face is so close to his, you can feel his breath on your skin. His hand is still holding your wrist and your heart is pounding against your chest when your gaze drops to his lips for a moment. 

But then you completely chicken out. 

Clearing your throat, you pull back and Harry lets go of your wrist as you lie back to your pillow. 

“Great, now I know who to ask for help if I need to hide a body,” you try to joke, but it only pulls a smile from him before he reaches for the light switch and flicks it, darkness falling over the room. 

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmurs and you feel him move around a bit before he stills and you’re left staring up at the ceiling, thinking about how you could be such a dumbass. 

Then you close your eyes and let sleep take away the shame. 

When you wake the next time, it’s still not fully bright outside, the early dawn is casting just enough light on the room for you to make out where you are, but it takes you a few moments to realize that it’s not your dorm room, but Harry’s bedroom. 

Then the next realization is that you’re hugging something warm that’s soft on the outside, but hard on the inside and you have to assess your surroundings for a minute before you make out what it is. You’re lying on your side in Harry’s bed, hugging his forearm like a teddy bear, your face resting in his palm while he is sleeping next to you, lying on his side, his face mushed into his pillow just inches away from yours. 

He looks like an angel, so calm and soft, you just want to reach out and touch his face, run your fingers through his curls. But instead, you tighten your hold on his arm, running a hand over it gently, sliding it between his hand and the pillow, cupping the back of his hand. 

He stirs in his sleep and you still, not wanting to wake him up, but then he opens his eyes the tiniest bit and you expect him to pull his hand back, but he doesn’t move. 

“You okay?” he asks, voice groggy and so fucking sexy, you almost let out a sigh. 

“Yeah,” you nod into his hand.

He nods as well, closing his eyes, ready to go back to sleep, thinking you’ll do the same, but suddenly, you feel wide awake. 

“Harry?” you whisper, though you have no idea what you want to tell him.

“Hm?” he hums, keeping his eyes closed. You don’t answer him and you think he has fallen back asleep, but then he opens his eyes again, looking at you in the dim light. “What is it?”

Reaching out with his other hand he brushes your hair out of your forehead before letting it drop between your faces as he waits for you to speak, but the words are dead on your tongue, you’re way too lost in him. 

So you decide to act instead. 

Before you could give it a second thought you start moving, closing the distance between the two of you, your lips pressing against his. 

At first it stops there, just lips touching, unsure what is going to happen next and you start doubting yourself right when his lips open and he takes the kiss further without hesitation. 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to get fully tangled, in the sheets and in each other as well, the warmth under the covers is increasing rapidly, especially when his hands slip under your (his) shirt, running up and down your back while hook a leg over him, trying to press up against him as close as possible. At one point you roll around so that he is above you, his hips wedging between your thighs and you can’t hold back the sigh that slips past your lips when you feel just how much he wants you right now and it just riles you up even more. 

He starts kissing down your neck, gently sucking and nipping at the tender skin over your collarbone while you keep raking through his hair with your eager fingers, your hips involuntarily rolling against him, desperate for more friction. Your hands move down, bunching the fabric of his shirt, tugging it up on his body and when he finally pulls back from you, he is quick to rid himself of it, throwing it to the side. 

It’s not your first time seeing him without a shirt on, but the effect it has on you is major now, especially because you get to reach out and touch him, feel the soft, warm skin that stretches over his hard muscles. 

To match his lack of clothing your shirt comes off pretty fast as well before Harry comes down, above you, his lips reconnecting with yours in a demanding kiss. But as heated as it started, it slowly starts to die down until the kiss ends entirely and he is clearly holding himself back, but you have no idea why. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, brushing his hair out of his forehead. 

“I just…” He exhales heavily, shaking his head before looking at you. “I don’t want you to wake up and… regret it and change your mind. If we go back to being friends after this, I would rather just… not have it happen.”

Your chest aches at his words, the hurt now clearly visible in his expression, it’s apparent just how much you fucked up when you judged him by what other people tell about him. You were so damn stupid. 

Cupping his face between your hands you pull him down for a short, sweet kiss before speaking up.

“I’m sorry for being such a coward. I was afraid all you want is just… some fun and then you’d move on. I was proven wrong.”

“I’m not who people think I am.”

“I know that now,” you smile at him bashfully. “And… I want to see where this could go.”

It’s silly to feel nervous admitting that you want more with him when you’re literally half naked, in bed, with clear signs that he wants you as well, but still, your pulse picks up as Harry just stares down at you. 

Then slowly, a sweet smile spreads across his lips that mirrors on your face as well, easing the nerves almost instantly and when he leans down, clearly with the intention of kissing you, but using the sudden boost of confidence, you push him onto his back, throw a leg over him and get on top of him. You see a spark of excitement in his eyes and his palms are quick to run over your back, teasing the elastic of your bralette that’s still on you. His gaze wanders down your body as well and he thrusts his hips upward just enough to earn a moan from you at the sensation. 

“You better not be playing with me, Styles,” you warn him as you lean forward, lips brushing against his, but not kissing him just yet. 

“I’m not a player when it comes to you,” he answers, his gaze locked with yours and for a second you feel like you can see into his soul. With a relieved smile, you finally kiss him and after weeks of battling your own desires you finally give in and let yourself fall right into Harry’s arms. 

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[redr0sewrites]

💫A/n: just some general pv x reader hcs. sorry ive been in such a writing slump ://

💫Cw: fluff + smut, praise, use of pet names, minors dni w the nsfw portion

💫 dividers

sfw:

Pure Vanilla is one of the best partners you could ever ask for in my mind

he's very attentive and an incredible listener, while also being so smart and gentle

if you're dating him, you definitely feel cherished. no matter how busy he is, and he is often busy, Pure Vanilla always makes time for you and puts in effort

he dotes on you a LOT!! he is always offering to help you, even at his own expense, and never wants to see you upset. he's a great person to ask for advice, and is endlessly supportive because of these qualities as well

he's very forgiving, and big on commitment and communication. you don't argue much, and even when you do, he's never the type to make you feel as though he doesn't respect you- that doesn't mean you don't argue though, as communication is very veryyyy important to him

i also think that Pure Vanilla, if he's in a relationship with you or even if you're just one of his close friends has a very heavy bias towards you. like if you're arguing with someone else, he would never ever publicly disagree with you and would support you 100%. if he genuinely disagrees with you he'd tell you kindly in private, but he's not the type to cause unnecessary drama for others to see, and wants to make sure that you know he's always on your side.

as positive and kind as he is, i do think that Pure Vanilla cookie has a bit of a self negativity streak in the sense that he can be a huge people pleaser. as his partner, you're one of the few people (cookies?) who gets to witness his more insecure and negative side. he tends to blame himself a lot for simple mistakes or problems that were entirely out of his control, and this can definitely apply to a relationship as well

unsurprisingly, he's very touch starved, and while not unwilling to admit it, he struggles to come to terms with it per se. i think Pure Vanilla would subconsciously be aware that he craves affection, but just doesn't know how to verbalize it as he doesn't want to force his feelings onto you

in tandem with this, i think he lovesss when you play with his hair! he loves that unbridled, gentle sort of affection, and melts whenever your hands go to run through his hair or massage his scalp. this is also a very specific personal headcanon, but i think Pure Vanilla would give the best gentle massages. he's an amazing healer, so you already know that transfers into your relationship, and having the opportunity to relieve the tension from your body is sooo satisfying to him. obviously not in a sexual way, he just wants you to be comfortable and loves helping you in any way he can

enjoys peaceful dates where he just gets to spend time with you!! Pure Vanilla cookie doesn't need anything thrilling to keep him occupied, and is absolutely fine just staying home with you for the evening and reading side by side, cuddling, or just enjoying each other's presence. if you are interested in thrilling dates, like amusement parks or scary movies, he's happy to indulge you, but he absolutely prefers the quiet, simple moments with you that are just so much more affectionate to him

nsfw:

Pure Vanilla cookie is absolutely a switch in my mind. it truly depends on your preferences, as he's down to be sub or dom or whatever works for you. i think he slightly prefers to bottom in terms of position simply because its less pressure for him (especially due to his eyesight conditions and his worries about not pleasuring you,,,, ☹️) but also won't reject topping. again, it really depends on his and your moods

i do think there are times where if you push his buttons enough he does have the capacity to be a pretty hard dom, but most of the time he's quite gentle! he's heavy on praise and reassurance, both giving and receiving, as he wants to make sure that everything he's doing is pleasing to you.

Pure Vanilla's favorite position in my mind would be the lotus flower position, where he basically just gets to be as close to you as possible. he has a penchant for just melting into your embrace and burying his head into your neck with a wordless whine, especially when he's overstimulated, and this position more than allows for that. however, i do also think he'd enjoy a spooning position where you're both laying on your side and he or you can just hold the other back-to-chest and have sex like that, but this position is more reserved for sleepy mornings and quicker sessions before bed.

no matter your genitals, Pure Vanilla would Love. to go down on you. he's absolutely a munch, and loves pleasuring you in this way and watching you absolutely fall apart. theres nothing more satisfying to him than wringing orgasms after orgasm out of you until your whimpering and whining, and all the while he's squirming and humping the bed while waiting for his own release. something about the eroticism of oral to him just makes him go crazy

when it comes to kinks, at first he's pretty .... vanilla.... (haha.... get it. im sorry) but i think over time he'd reveal his more serious kinks and perversions. he's also down to experiment with anything you're into, as you're his first priority in bed. however, i do think Pure Vanilla would be against anything that could seriously hurt you. he would worry too much, and doesn't like seeing you in extreme pain. in contrast to this though, i do think he would enjoy seeing you become an absolute wreck from overstimulation or edging (especially if this is Truthless Recluse we're talking about,,,, but those are headcanons for another time i fear)

when it comes to general kinks, he has a lot, and you're gonna have to bare with me through some of these explanations. starting off pretty obvious, i'd say praise and just like pampering in general during sex is a pretty big one for him. he loves seeing you flustered, but also enjoys being praised or overwhelmed with pleasure in return. next up, i don't know if this really counts as a kink but like,,, hand holding is super important to him, he loves being close to you. hair pulling, specifically receiving, is HUGE for him. i'm just picturing Pure Vanilla being all soft and gentle during sex, but then the second you pull his hair he's a quivering mess !!

next up, parallel play and just. mutual masturbation in general. he often fantasizes about you walking in on him masturbating and vice verse, and it's just very attractive to him to learn what makes you tick. also kinda similar to this but i think he'd secretly be into being humiliated a bit. i don't think Pure Vanilla would ever admit it, but if you started teasing him about how loud he's moaning or how pathetic he is he'd cum on the spot. he's always trying his best to please others, and so you taking that a step further and getting him all embarrassed really turns him on.

while these are all pretty tame, i do think that Pure Vanilla has some more secretive and embarrassing sexual desires that he absolutely feels ashamed of- and also turn him on more than anything else. i might make some seperate headcanons for what i think his more perverse interests are, but overall i don't think he'd share his fantasies with his partner until you both are very close and very intimate. however, if you're freakier than him and give him the opportunity to share his desires ..... well. that's also quite attractive to him, yk?

overall, i think he's a very sweet lover when it comes to sex, and can accommodate anything you ask, whether it be as tame or as freaky as you prefer !!

thanks for reading !! i haven't written in a hot minute and i feel like it shows <\3 my life has been kinda weird and stressful rn but im trying my best to get back into writing !!! ALSO PLEASEEE SEND IN CRK OR PRESSURE (roblox) ASKS 😞🙏

[mrsbarnesblog]

˖˚⊹ just a friend

➤ summary: your best friend gets jealous when he sees you talking to some random guy at his party

➤ w/c: 3k

➤ warnings: +18❗️smut, swearing, p in v sex, protected sex, friends to lovers, possessive but softie Rafe, dirty talk, pet names

masterlist

You were standing near the kitchen island, far away from everybody else, sipping on your drink and observing Rafe. The loud music busted through the speakers, there were too many unknown faces and for the hundredth time wished you had stayed at home. 

Rafe was sitting on the couch in the middle of the room with Kelse, Topper, a few other guys, and, most importantly, some random girl. She was way too touchy for your liking and it honestly seemed like she was ready to get into his pants in front of everyone. 

Rafe didn't pay much attention, though, even while she was rubbing his pants-covered thigh and saying something in his ear. No, Rafe was too interested in the conversation with his friend, but it didn't stop that nasty and overwhelming feeling of jealousy bubbling in your stomach.

You and Rafe have been friends for almost three years, but it didn't seem like it. While you had neved crossed the invisible line, unknowningly for each other you both admitted to yourself that whatever was going on in between you two was not a regular friendship. Friends shouldn't sleep in each other's beds. Friends shouldn’t spend that much time together alone. Friends shouldn't be jealous every single time someone talks to their friend. And friends shouldn't be in love. 

Yet, here you were. 

You were staring at this scene for at least fifteen minutes and it drove you fucking insane. Especially the fact that Rafe had never let any man even talk to you, not to mention be all up in your face. It was so unfair that he had double standards for you and that he probably didn't even realize your feelings for him. 

Rafe was just too overprotective and possessive and you had to admit the ugly truth to yourself that it wasn't because he was in love with you. 

You finished your drink, wincing at the taste of alcohol, and straightened, looking across the room full of people. There were too many guys; you spotted the one that looked kind of attractive and moved in his direction. You were done with Rafe’s bullshit. If he could have girls all over himself, so could you. 

“Hey.” You tapped on the guy’s shoulder to grab his attention. He became flirty way too quickly, stepping closer to you and giving his best smirk, yet your eyes were still drifting back to Rafe. 

You saw the exact moment when your best friend noticed your current company. You and Ed were chatting for no more than five minutes, and while he was talking about it being his plans for the night, you saw Rafe getting up from the couch with a frown on his face. He quickly crossed the room, not bothering to check on the girl who was trying to get his attention over the loud music, or say even say something to his friends. 

“What are you doing here?” His brows furrowed even more, his eyes going up and down the guy near you. 

“I’m talking, Rafe. Go back to your company.” You rolled your eyes, looking back at Ed. “So what were you saying? Your frie—” 

“You’re coming with me, Y/N.” Before you could even say anything, you were dragged away to the second floor, where no one could bother you. “What the fuck was that, huh? I told you like a million fucking times to not talk to the guys at these damn parties; they're goin’ to hurt you.” Rafe freed your hand, pacing in front of you and running his own hand through his hair. He was visibly annoyed and pissed, and with the way he was acting, you wanted to push his buttons even more.

"You are my friend, Rafe, and you have no fucking right to tell me who I can and cannot speak to or go out with!" You shouted back, not even in the slightest fear of the flames in his eyes, when his head snapped back towards you. 

"Whether you like it or not, Y/N, I am not going to let any fuckers with bad intentions get near you."  

"Apparently, they are the only ones who are interested in me. You seem to be always busy with all the girls who are ready to climb you.” You laughed even though it hurt you to say it out loud. “I'm sick of your double standards, Rafe. You think I want to look at you with some random girls? You think it’s okay to scare guys away from me and then casually let everyone be all over you?” 

“What the fuck does that mean? You know I am not dating anyone. They can do whatever they want because I have no plans with any of them." He rolled his eyes, already irritated that he was actually fighting with you for the first time. But there was no going back and you both felt it. The constant tension and secret feelings were overflowing and they had to find a way out. “You’re acting like a child, swear to god, babe.”

“Because you're giving me mixed signals and confusing me!” You stepped closer, pointing a finger at his chest. 

“You know the reason why I do this.” Rafe grabbed your wrist, slightly pulling you closer. Your eyes locked on each other, and your faces were so close that you could smell liquor his his breath. You felt the way your stomach dropped when Rafe’s eyes quickly felt to your lips, yet you were still filled with anger. 

"No, I don't! You’re giving me hope on something, you’re being affectionate with me, we’re spending all our time together, but then you just step back as if it was nothing! Just stop playing with my feelings and tell the fucking tr—-“ Before you could even finish your sentence, your body got pushed back and pressed in between the wall and Rafe’s body. His grip on your face was firm yet gentle enough to not hurt you when he brought you closer to him and finally kissed you.

You both moaned into the kiss as if you were surprised and content that it had finally happened. Rafe’s lips moved quickly, easily dominating over you, as he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, asking for permission to slip in. 

“I’m just a friend, huh? You’re driving me fucking insane. You’re mine, don’t you understand it?” He mumbled against your mouth, sliding one hand down your body and at the same time pushing his legs in between your thighs. He just simply wanted to pin you against the wall, but the way his thigh pressed into your pulsing core made you both hiss. “Do you really think I would let anyone kiss you? Touch you? I’m selfish, Y/N, and I don’t like to share anything or anyone.” You felt as if you were high or drunk with the way your body reacted to Rafe’s touches, trying to concentrate on his words but actually only wishing his lips to get back on yours. 

“You let them touch you. That girl was all over you today, and you did nothing to prevent it.” You breathed into his lips, feeling a lazy smirk stretching across his own. Rafe leaned in again, pressing a few quick, wet kisses to your mouth and wrapping one hand harder around your body.

“She was fucking annoying and I tried to get her off of me. I don’t need any of them. My eyes have always been on you. I swear.” Rafe’s hands tugged on your dress, sliding it higher to have more access to your body. “Holy shit, Y/N. I don't know how I was able to be friends with you for so long. I want you so bad.” 

You moaned, your head falling back against the wall, when Rafe’s lips slid down the side of your neck, leaving soft bites and reddish marks. Your own hands reached under his t-shirt, touching his firm abs and scratching his tanned skin until he moaned into your mouth. 

“I was scared to make a move. To scare you away. But you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I cannot pretend to be only your friend." His hands were sliding up and down your thighs, bringing you closer and not pulling his face away from your neck. Your scent has always driven him insane and he couldn’t have enough of you. “Do you feel it? Do you feel how hard you make me, Y/N?” His hands tugged your hips closer, until his bulge was firmly pressing into your leg.  

“Rafe…” You whined, your hips moving on his thigh, which was still pressed in between your legs. The feeling of your underwear getting wetter by the second made you wonder if Rafe could feel it through his pants. “Y-you know that everyone thinks that we’re sleeping together, right?”

“I think we shouldn’t disappoint them, hm?” You felt a smile spreading across his lips and you giggled back at him. Your hands are now tagging the annoying piece of fabric that hid his body from you, not even caring about people that might go to the second floor of Cameron’s house and catch you.

You managed to drag the t-shirt off of Rafe, your mouth instantly getting watery with the image in front of you. Sure, you saw Rafe shirtless countless times at the beach, but knowing that you could shamelessly do whatever you wanted made your whole body tingle. 

“Fuck that.” Before you even knew it, Rafe’s hands easily lifted you up, making your legs automatically wrap around his body. His lips met yours again, and he started blindly moving towards his bedroom. 

Your body bounced on the way-too-soft and way-too-expensive mattress of his king-size bed as he threw you there and went to lock the door. Rafe followed you shortly after, too desperate to keep touching you. His hands slid up your bare thighs, going past the strings of your panties, pushing your dress until it was gathered around your waist. 

“Can I take it off?” He looked at you, his eyes surprisingly soft and completely different from what you'd expected. You just simply nodded, lifting your hands in the air, until the only real item of clothing was taken off you and thrown somewhere in the room. 

Rafe’s eyes took every inch of your exposed skin, his hands gently sliding down your sides. You were only dressed in a simple black set, but for Rafe, it was the sexiest thing in the world. 

He wanted you for so long. Just looking from afar, he was trying to restrict himself from getting closer to you because he had always thought that you deserved someone better. But at the same time, who could treat you better than him? Only Rafe knew everything that you liked and needed, and he was willing to give it to you. 

“You’re so pretty, for fuck’s sake. I’ll be careful with you.” Rafe's body covered yours, his soft lips kissing your neck and going all the way down to your belly, making you gasp. You buried your hands in his hair, moving it away from his face. “I’ll take care of you. I promise I won’t fuck this up.” He looked up at you with his baby blues, and your whole body got covered in goosebumps from the look in his eyes. 

“Please, Rafe.” You whispered, taking his face into your hands and dragging him back on top of you. You two could not stop moaning as your hands began to explore each other's bodies and your lips met once more in a passionate kiss. “I want you.”

“Baby… Can’t even imagine what you’re doing to me.” He groaned against your mouth. The position that you were currently in, with Rafe comfortably in between your slightly spread legs, made his pants-covered erection perfectly press into your dump panties. “Need to be inside of you or else you’ll make me cum in my pants.” 

It became a mess of tugging on each other's clothes while trying to have as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. When you were both naked, Rafe slowed down, holding your face with one firm hand. “Is it really what you want to do? ‘Cause I won’t go back to pretending to be friends anymore.”  

“Just fuck me already, Cameron.” You whispered, not breaking intense eye contact. 

“As you wish, sweetheart.” With these words, Rafe pulled back to reach the nightstand and take a condon. He carelessly threw it near your exposed body and took a few seconds to finally admire your naked form. 

You were basically inviting him to do whatever he wanted with your slightly spread legs, which let him see how wet you already were. That pleading look on your face didn’t help the situation either, making Rafe want to fuck you dumb until his name was the only thing on your mind. 

He looked you up and down a few times before leaning forward, pressing your legs closer to your chest. Rafe’s calloused hands reached to your sensitive breasts, touching nipples with his thumbs, until your eyes rolled back into your head. 

“Are you ready for me, or do you want me to eat you out first, hm?” His soft breath on the side of your neck sent shievers down your body. As much as you wanted to feel his lips on you, it felt like you could not think straight without his dick stretching you out, so you helplessly shook your head. 

“Next time, please. I need you now.” 

He gave you a sly smile and, in a single motion, ripped off the foil, rolled a condom over his throbbing cock, and placed himself at your entrance. You squirmed at the feeling of his tip going up and down your wet slit, gathering your juices and stimulating your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, so you’re soakin’ my sheets, baby.” He smirked, looking down at your pussy and teasing you more, until a moan of his name escaped from your mouth. “Keep your legs here, okay? ‘N I’ll take care of you.” 

When you felt Rafe's cock slide into you, your eyes flattered before closing completely. It was big. It was bigger than you had ever had before, but it seemed like your body quickly adjusted to him as soon as he bottomed out. With one hand near your head to hold himself up and the other one on your leg, he slowly started moving in and out. 

“Rafe!” You squeaked, digging your nails into your thighs and trying to control yourself.

“Sh-h, ‘s okay. Knew this pussy was made for me, babe.” He moaned through gritted teeth, gradually increasing the speed of his thrusts. Soon, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with muffled moans and Rafe’s praises. His bed was making a noise with every movement, and if you hadn't been too lost in the pleasure, you would’ve thought about other people hearing you. Rafe could not take his gaze away from your face—the way you tried to control yourself but soon lost it when his cock touched that sensitive spot inside of you. Your glossy eyes, hot skin and puffy lips made him go feral, fucking you harder into the matress of his bed.

“That’s right, scream my name. Made ya go dumb for my cock, huh?” He watched in awe at the way you were going insane under him; your release was visibly getting closer with every thrust. You moan even louder, feeling a tight knot form in your lower stomach, and the feeling gradually increased when the base of his cock brushed over your clit. “Squeezin’ me so tight. My good girl... fuck, baby. That’s right, cum for me. I’ve got you.” 

Rafe grabbed both of your hands, showing you to put them around his neck. It made your legs fall from the previous position and you weakly put them around his waist. Rafe finally lowered his face closer to you, catching your lips in a wet and sloppy kiss, still pounding into you roughly and steadily. 

“I-I can’t, Rafe, please!”

You particularly breathe the same air, moan into each other’s mouths, hooded eyes locked on when the orgasm washes over you almost simultaneously. Without even realizing it, you dragged your nails down Rafe’s sweaty back, leaving red marks that he will proudly show off tomorrow. His hips slowly pushed into you while you were still pulsating around his cock, enjoying your own release. Just the feeling of your pussy milking him could’ve made him cum again. 

“Rafe…” You whisper, your eyes now closed and your head feeling all fuzzy and warm. Rafe slowly slipped out of you, walking away to throw out a condom. You whined at the empty feeling and the coldness that the lack of his touch had brought. 

“‘M right here, baby. You did amazing.” As he came back on top of you, now wearing boxers, he placed kisses on the heated skin of your neck, his hand sliding down your side to soothe the aching muscles of your legs. “My pretty girl... Gosh, now I’m not letting you go. Like ever.” 

You giggle, draping your arms over his shoulders and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “So all I had to do was talk to some random guy for you to get all angry and kiss me?” 

“Don’t remind me of that. I just realised that I might actually lose you.” Rafe whispered the last part, nuzzling into your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist until there was no space left between your naked bodies. 

“You won’t lose me, I promise.” You hugged him back, enjoying the comfortable silence that fell into the room, until you both fell asleep in each other's arms. 

[biteyoubiteme]

cat got your tongue?

yeonjun x fem!reader

synopsis: you and yeonjun are both models.

warnings: 🔞!!! spit kink if you squint, no protection, creampie, dom!yeonjun, manhandling, bondage (uses his tie on readers wrists), fingering, oral (f!rec),mentions of cum eating prob forgot some sorry

wc: 2.7k me when I lie and say these will all be 1-2k

an: I do not think this is my best work I think I just struggle with dom!member and I apologize lol this wasnt really requested but was taken as such ily @apeachty this was sent before the event post but on the same day so im adding it to the tag anyways lol this is not proof read forgive me sweet angels ill fall on my sword for you.

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

You would have to spend over a month traveling together. Over a month of back and forth, car rides, flights, hotel rooms, runways, and photo shoots all while trying to deny dating rumors. The contract was easy enough, but the money earned was less impressive than the exposer. To be the face of a company for an entire season, tied to one of the biggest names in modeling history, not only the fashion house but the model himself who set trends and made people famous for one little interaction. It was a brand deal people dreamed of. 

The pen cleared the signature box faster than you ever thought you could sign your name. But then the nerves set in. It wasn't over doing your job, modeling, although hard, was now second nature. You worked well with almost every photographer you came across, following instructions without a fret, even when it came to runway you knew your walk was one companies begged to have on their sets. 

But it was him that left you questioning your abilities. He had been the only clause in the contract that made you second guess yourself. Yeonjun was well known not only in the modeling community itself but globally. His face was splashed across countless brands, ads, and billboards. You couldn't go a day without seeing him at least once on your timeline. Even at the grocery store, in line at the checkout, he looked back at you with his perfect pouty lips from the front of a magazine you could only dream of being on the cover of as often as he was. 

“You were specifically asked for,” your agent reminded you after you brought up the status difference. It wasn't as if you were not known, companies wanted you well enough that you wouldn't need the check from this single one month booking. It was the caliber at which he was held. “They want you and I wouldn't be the one to turn them away when this much press will be on you. Imagine the number of people calling to get one shoot in with you, he brings eyes,” 

It wasn't until your first photoshoot that you realized that he would be more of a pain in your ass than an inspiration. He was never mean, you would have to give him that. But it was his overwhelming kindness mixed with the teasing tone he always used on you that somehow pushed your buttons just right. It didn't help that the first time that you walked into the studio you were so shy, little smiles shared with your hands folded in front of you trying to wring out your anxiety. Yeonjun wasn't even on set yet, having shown up a few minutes later with his arms full of coffee, passing them out to each staff member, knowing them all by name. “It's nice to meet you finally. I didn't know what you would like but this is what I picked out for the little mouse,” 

“Little mouse?” it was the first thing you said to him, your head tilted just enough for him to take in the question and know the slip up of a nickname was going to stick especially when you couldn't get through the photoshoot without an apology. Shoulders stiff with his eyes on you, your nerves making you angry instead of anxious and it all had to do with the little grin set at the edge of yeonjun mouth. “I'll just step out,” and you hated how improved your film was from his absence, your heart calming down its rapt beading. 

Of course you got over it eventually, or at least the stiffness. You couldn't afford to be stiff when standing next to yeonjun who was naturally relaxed about everything. He would slink to his spot on set, lay his lazy gaze in your direction, and get all of his shots in the minimal amount of frames as if he was born to be in front of the camera. It was annoying. 

The two of you would be set up next to each other in hair and makeup, your bottom lip is finely brushed with the end of a glosses wand when he would lean on the back of your chair. His hands were always just hovering over your shoulders, never quite touching but enough to feel the heat from his palms, his head leaning next to yours looking back at you in the mirror, “You guys did such a good job, don't we just look like the perfect pair?” he would quirk an eyebrow at you, the two of you staring each other down while the staff agreed, but he was always waiting for your answer, “don't we little mouse?” 

“If you think so,” your response always made him chuckle as if you didn't see the way the media was talking about your contract together, as if you didn't feel the chemistry between the two of you. People were still talking about your first runway together, the closing of the show for one of the best collections put on display that week. 

The lead up was so chaotic, with dressing rooms stacked full of models and assistants, the floor a mess of people undressing and trying to make their quick changes as fast as they could before their names were called. Even yeonjun could feel the pressure in the room, the two of you in your designated corner stripping down back to back. 

The crowded space made everyone bump into each other. For the smallest second you were caught by the sight of him taking his shirt off, pulling it at the back of his collar showing the way his jeans hung so low on his hips that his happy trail was on display. You had turned, taking off your shirt, shoulder knocked by someone coming to do your hair, it made you stumble back into yeonjun, his hand right at the small of your back holding you upright as you fumbled with the zipper on your pants. “Careful,” he muttered, your heart in your ears as you kicked your shoes away from your space. 

The two of you were used to seeing each other in different versions of undress after all the photoshoots shared together. Comfortable enough now to be somewhat friends after all the car rides, the few interviews, and hours spent on a set together. It's what you accounted for as your key element to having such a good walk together on the runway. Every step matched, the energy vibrating off the two of you as if you had been a duo your whole life instead of just having been paired together less than a month ago. 

Even at the afterparty people swarmed you two, asking about your relationship as if they could sense the livewire of that conversation hanging around your heads. It was the first time you had ever seen him flustered enough to stutter over an answer. “I um- you never know,” 

The paparazzi loved the two of you, the crowd outside any event was packed full of them, their cameras following you around the city. The two of you always shared a car to your hotels, yeonjuns hand warm in yours leading you through the flash of every blinding light while you tried to shield your eyes. He would pull you in front of him when you finally reached the waiting car door, hand on your back gilding you in before climbing in after. 

Even shutting the door behind the two of you only muffled the sounds of their questions to a faint murmur. It isn't until the car pulls away from the venue that yeonjun speaks up. 

“You did well tonight, you looked…” 

“Good, I hope,” 

“You always look good, better than good, i was trying to come up with a different adjective,” it wasn't the first time he's complimented you, but it never stopped you from logging it away to giggle over it in private. “Sometimes I don't know what to say to you,” 

You chuckle, “I never took you as shy,” 

Strands of his hair hang in his eyes, head tilted just enough to catch what little light makes it in from the tinted windows, “no, not shy, just cautious,” 

“What, afraid you'll break me? Hurt my feelings? Or maybe my ego will get too big,” 

He lets out a soft breathy laugh, the sound taking up the space in the backseat. You loved the way his chuckles went down your spine, like a caress of his fingers on the skin you wished he touched. “You’d let me get close enough to break you?” 

“I don't think you could,” it's a light jab and yet it sets everything off kelter. The car ride charged with an energy you couldn't get back into its box. Now opened, the two of you looked back at each other as if you hadn't felt this pot simmering over. 

His eyes flickered down to your mouth, his tongue running over his bottom lip before he shrugged, “Okay,” he loved that you wanted to play this game with him, as if you hadn't always been slowly picking away at the short wall between you two. It was inevitable that you would end up pressed up against the mirrored walls in the elevator up to your hotel floor. 

He wasn't even going to do anything, he was going to let you go to your room while he mulled over your conversation, picturing exactly what he wanted to do to you. But then you leaned back against those mirrors, your body reflected around him as the doors slid closed behind him. Your eyes traced the line of him, lashes hooded just enough for you to look through, like a siren on the rocks, beckoning him closer. You didn't stop him when he cupped your jaw, thumb running over your bottom lip, nose dipping to yours. Even when he gave you enough time to pull away, lips ghosting over yours when he asked, “You'll be good for me, won't you?” 

Your answer is hummed right into his mouth when he kisses you, devouring you, pushing you into the corner giving you nowhere to go. His body is hot against yours, cageing you in as he kisses down your jaw, sloppy wet spots cooling in the air as he nips at your neck. “God, imagine them having to cover up all the marks I leave on you during tomorrow's shoot,” his hand is heavy on your hip, dragging down you cup your cunt over your jeans, “Everyone is going to know I fucking ruined this pussy for anyone but me,” 

Your whimper is eaten by the sound of the doors opening behind him, your tight grip on his shirt not loosening when he drags you out after him. He pushes you to his bed when you get past the threshold of his door. His slow walk to the nightstand to flick on the light gives you enough time to think about exactly what's happening. 

He loosens his tie, veiny hands curled around the fabric as he nods his chin in your direction, “Take your clothes off,” it was only a few hours ago when he saw you topless, and yet your fingers shake when you reach for your hem. “Don't be shy now little mouse, always all talk and no play,” 

The heat on your cheeks spreads to your ears at the nickname. Yeonjun takes to matching your state of undress by tossing his tie next to you before unbuttoning his shirt, the outline of him in his pants is mouthwatering. He watches the way you try to speak, hands twisting in the duvet not realizing he's come up so close to you before he's hooked his hand on your chin, tilting your head up before slipping his thumb into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. He swirls the digit around, grinning at how willing you are to follow his command even without words, “one day ill fuck this pretty mouth, but for now, I need you on your hands and knees for me,” he shoves your face away, putting his slick finger in his mouth to taste you. 

Turning around and having him at your back is both chilling and exhilarating, not knowing when he's going to touch you until his hands are sliding up your back, unhooking your bra, and letting it fall off of you. He lets his hand press between your shoulder blades, pushing down hard enough for your arms to give way beneath you, the side of your face pressed into the sheets. “Every photoshoot I kept thinking about what it would be like to finally get you into my bed, I kept thinking about how I would finally fuck you, how exactly I could use your body,” 

His hands slide down your arms, tugging them behind you until you whimper, the silky material of his tie sliding along your fingers as he wraps up your wrists to keep you in place. “And every time I just came right back to thinking about putting you just like this, fucking you dumb; using you like my perfect little toy,” 

With one hand holding your tied wrists his other slips down to tease you over your soaked panties, fingers following the lines of your cunt like he was made to map you out by touch. You can't even form words and he hasn't done anything, your pathetic little whimpers pushing him further and further. “So quiet now, I wonder if it's because someone's scared I'll break her?” 

“Please,” it's so soft you don't think he's even heard you, but he's aching for every little sound. 

“Please what? What do you want me to do?” he pushes your panties aside, grinning at how wet you've gotten over so little. Your hips push back into his hand, his fingers slipping into you just enough to prep you for the stretch of taking him. 

“Fuck me, break me, anything-” he's so quick to press his cock into you that you're gasping losing all thoughts. His fingers had done little to let you grasp the sheer size of him, even all your slick couldn't help that pleasure mixed with pain as his tip kissed your cervix. 

He doesn't even hold off from moving, not once he's finally felt your warm gummy walls sucking him, so perfect he doesn't know how he will ever stop from coming back to you. He keeps one hand on your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, the other wrapped around the slack of his tie, tugging your arms and using them as leverage to keep his harsh pace as he fucks into your greedy cunt. 

You feel so full, so completely stuffed that you're a mess of incoherent moans mixing with the slapping sounds of your connecting bodies. Yeonjun is mesmerized by the way your ass ripples with each slap of his hips; mesmerized by the way his cock is disappearing in and out of you. “So fucking perfect,” he's grunting, “I'm going to fill up and then eat my little mouse out until she screams, kiss your pussy better after taking me so well, does that sound good?” 

“Yes, god yes!” Your voice is muffled by the way you are pressed into the mattress, arms slightly numb as he pummels himself into you, thrusts getting sloppier with the build up of his orgasm. He tells himself that he will pull out but then he's cumming, body shuddering as you clench around him, his rumbling moans following the steady pulse of his leaking cock. 

When he pulls out of you he watches the way the dribbling cream coats your puffy lips. Untying your hands he lets you roll onto your back, slotting himself between your legs and attaching his mouth to your swollen clit. Your fingers still gaining feeling fall to his hair, pulling on the strands and he brings your orgasm back to the surface. The obscene sounds coming from his fingers trying to match his previous pace makes him chuckle, the feeling of his laugh vibrating against your clit. It takes little work for you to tumble into your orgasm when he curls his fingers just right, your body following every command he lays down. 

His hand is covered in your combined cum when he's done with you, the stickiness capturing both of your attention before he shoves them into your waiting mouth.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[lila-lou]

✨Settled - 1/4✨

Summary: With you, Dean Winchester feels something he never expected—a reason to slow down, to stay. One nervous first date is all it takes to make him want more than the road.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 4494

DISCLAIMER: Everything is purely fiction. I do not intend to attack or hurt anyone. The story is, of course, entirely made up and meant for entertainment purposes.

You hadn't been able to stop thinking about Dean Winchester since the moment you met him a few days ago by pure chance at that diner off the highway. At first, he just seemed like some rough-around-the-edges guy with a cocky grin, and a voice that could melt steel. You had no idea then that there was so much more lurking behind those green eyes.

Tonight was your first date. You didn’t know it, but miles away in a hidden bunker, Dean Winchester was losing his goddamn mind.

He stood in front of the mirror, holding up two different shirts like it was some life-or-death decision. A navy button-down in one hand, a faded band tee in the other. He cursed under his breath, tossing the band tee onto the bed. "No, no, stupid, you’re not going to a concert, you’re taking her out", he muttered to himself, yanking the navy shirt over his head.

The problem was, Dean had never cared this much. Not about what he wore, not about impressing anyone. But you were different. The second he saw you, something shifted in him, something he couldn’t shake. He knew it was real, that you were it for him. And that terrified the hell out of him.

"Shit, where’s my belt?", he grumbled, rummaging through the mess of clothes on the bed. He was so wrapped up in his little crisis that he didn’t even hear Sam’s footsteps until his brother’s voice cut through the room.

"You planning on fighting a war or going on a date?".

Dean froze, caught like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. He turned to see Sam leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk barely hidden.

"Shut up", Dean snapped, his face flushing. "It’s… it’s important".

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I can see that. Dude, you’re sweating".

Dean yanked the belt from under a pile of flannel shirts and started threading it through the loops of his jeans, muttering something about minding your own damn business.

Sam just chuckled and shook his head. He hadn’t seen Dean like this in… ever. This wasn’t just another random girl or a quick flirtation. Dean was nervous. Really, honestly nervous.

"You know", Sam said, pushing off the doorframe and strolling into the room, "most people don't have a full-blown meltdown before a first date. Especially not shirtless".

Dean threw him a look that could have curdled milk. "I ain't melting down", he grumbled, tugging his belt too tight and cussing under his breath when it bit into his waist. He yanked it loose again, running a hand through his already-mussed hair. His chest was bare, scarred and solid, but right now he just looked…lost.

Sam sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, picking up a crumpled flannel and inspecting it like it might hold the answers. "You realize you own like, three types of clothes, right? FBI cosplay, 'lumberjack who drinks too much', and 'whatever’s clean'".

Dean huffed out a breath, snatching the flannel from Sam’s hands and tossing it across the room. "Not helping, Sammy".

Sam held up his hands in surrender but smiled warmly. "I’m just saying — she’s not going out with your shirt, Dean. She’s going out with you".

Dean paused, staring at the heap of clothes and feeling the weight of it settle in his chest. He knew Sam was right. You didn't seem like the kind of person who gave a damn if he showed up in a designer jacket or a greasy t-shirt. But still… you deserved more. You deserved the best version of him, even if the best he had to offer was a half-decent button-down and a heart that was already yours.

Dean sighed heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Man, I don’t even know why I’m freaking out like this".

Sam just smiled knowingly. "Because for the first time, you actually give a damn".

Dean met his brother’s eyes, saw nothing but understanding there, and felt some of the pressure ease off his chest. He grabbed the navy button-down again and shrugged into it, fumbling a little with the buttons.

Sam stood up, clapping a hand on Dean’s bare shoulder before he could finish. "You'll be fine. She already likes you, dumbass".

Dean let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, well. Let’s hope she still likes me after tonight".

Sam gave him a playful shove toward the mirror. "Hurry up, Romeo. You’re gonna be late".

Dean grunted but moved faster, suddenly hyper-aware of the ticking clock. He wanted everything to be perfect, or at least as perfect as a guy like him could manage.

After all, it wasn’t every day he got a shot at something real. Something he hadn’t even known he was waiting for, until you walked into his life.

Meanwhile, you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of your jacket for what felt like the tenth time. Nerves twisted in your stomach, but it was a good kind of nervous. The kind that came when you knew tonight might actually turn into something important.

When you heard the sound of a car pulling up outside, your heart gave a stupid little leap. You peeked out the window and spotted it immediately: a sleek black '67 Chevy Impala. It rumbled like a beast alive, gleaming under the streetlights, and somehow, it was so Dean.

You grabbed your bag and hurried to the door just as there was a knock. When you opened it, there he was. Dean Winchester, standing a little awkwardly on your porch.

He looked…good. Maybe not movie-star polished, but good. A dark blue button-down stretched across his broad shoulders. His boots were scuffed, his hair a little messy like he’d run his hands through it too many times. He looked real. And nervous as hell.

"Hey", he said, flashing you a smile that didn’t quite hide the nerves in his eyes. "You look…". He stopped, cleared his throat, and tried again. "You look beautiful".

You felt your cheeks heat up, smiling shyly. "You don’t look so bad yourself".

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, uh… sorry if I’m a little underdressed. Not exactly a wardrobe full of fancy crap".

You laughed, instantly easing some of the tension between you. "Dean, if you showed up in a tuxedo, I'd probably think you were a serial killer".

That made him laugh, a real, genuine belly laugh that made your heart flutter in your chest. He gestured toward the car with a slight tilt of his head. "C´mon".

You nodded and followed him down the steps. He rushed ahead to open the passenger door for you, fumbling a little with the handle like he wasn’t used to doing it. It was sweet. So was the way he made sure you were settled before jogging around to his side and sliding into the driver’s seat.

The Impala growled to life beneath you, and Dean shot you a sideways glance, a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth.

"So… dinner? I figured we could do that old diner out by Route 12. It's not fancy, but they got killer pie. Thought maybe… we could… split a slice after?".

The hope in his voice nearly broke you. Big, badass Dean Winchester, terrified you'd say no to sharing a piece of pie. You smiled, warm and sure. "I'd love that".

He let out a breath he’d been holding, gripping the wheel tighter to hide the way his hands were shaking just a little. And as he pulled away from the curb, you realized you hadn’t felt this safe, this right in a long time.

Neither had he.

The diner was a little place tucked between a gas station and a bait shop, the neon "OPEN" sign buzzing faintly in the window. It wasn’t much to look at from the outside, but once you stepped in, it felt cozy, all warm lights, red vinyl booths, and the smell of fresh coffee and frying bacon hanging in the air.

Dean held the door open for you again, giving a small, nervous smile when your arm brushed his on the way in.

The waitress barely glanced up from her notepad when she said, "Anywhere you like, hon'", and Dean guided you to a booth in the back, where it was quieter.

He slid into the seat across from you, fidgeting a little with the edge of the menu like he had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do with his hands. "So", he said after a second, clearing his throat and leaning forward a little, "tell me more about you. I feel like all we did the other day was talk about pie and terrible coffee".

You smiled, resting your chin on your hand. "I like pie and terrible coffee. That's pretty much me in a nutshell".

Dean grinned, a flash of that cocky, playful guy you’d first met shining through. "You might just be perfect".

The words slipped out before he could catch them, and the second they did, he froze, wide-eyed, like he was already kicking himself. His face flushed slightly and he grabbed the menu, pretending to be very interested in the specials.

You laughed softly, feeling your heart tug at the sight of this big, tough man reduced to a nervous wreck in your presence. "I could say the same about you", you said, your voice soft but sure.

Dean glanced up, caught your gaze, and for a moment, the whole world shrank down to just the two of you. The noise of the diner faded, the clatter of dishes, the low hum of conversation — none of it mattered.

The waitress came by then, breaking the spell. Dean fumbled through ordering two burgers and a slice of apple pie to share and you could have sworn his hand shook a little when he handed her the menu.

Once she walked away, Dean leaned back in the booth, exhaling like he’d just survived a firefight. "Sorry", he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck again. "I’m not usually… like this".

You tilted your head, smiling. "Like what?".

He shrugged, looking almost sheepish. "Nervous. Hopin’ I don’t screw this up".

Your chest warmed, and before you could overthink it, you reached across the table, brushing your fingers lightly over the back of his hand. He stilled, eyes locking with yours. "You’re not screwing anything up, Dean", you said softly. "You're doing just fine".

For the first time that night, he smiled without any nerves behind it, just pure, heartfelt joy.

Dinner passed in a haze of easy conversation and shy smiles. Once Dean relaxed a little, once he realized you weren’t sitting there judging him, he started opening up, in his own way.

You learned he loved classic cars, especially his Impala, and he had an obsession with old-school rock bands. He talked about road trips, odd little towns he’d visited, and a lot of "weird jobs" he didn’t really explain. You chalked it up to maybe construction work or something blue-collar. You didn’t mind. There was a roughness to him, sure, but also a surprising gentleness when he talked about people he'd met, places he'd seen.

And you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out how a guy like Dean Winchester was sitting across from you, single.

You found yourself staring at him while he told a story about getting stranded in some tiny town in Colorado, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way his hands moved animatedly, how that rough voice of his dipped into something warm when he talked about things he liked.

Finally, you just blurted it out, because the thought wouldn't leave your head.

"I honestly can't believe you're single", you said, smiling behind the rim of your glass.

Dean froze mid-sentence, his eyebrows shooting up. Then he laughed, scratching the back of his head again, a nervous habit you were starting to find adorable. "Yeah, well", he said, voice rougher now, "I guess… this life —", he gestured vaguely, like it explained everything, " — it doesn't really make it easy".

You set your cup down, watching him closely. "Still. Seems like any woman with half a brain would've snapped you up".

He smiled, but there was something almost sad behind it. Like maybe people had tried… but never really stayed. "I guess I just never… found the right person", he said, shrugging like it didn’t matter. But his eyes gave him away. It mattered. It mattered more than he wanted to admit.

You leaned closer, resting your arms on the table, your voice soft but sure. "Maybe you were just waiting for the right one".

Dean’s eyes flickered to yours and something in him shifted. A realization, maybe. A hope he hadn't dared to name until now. "Yeah", he said, his voice low and rough and full of meaning. "Maybe I was".

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The rest of the diner could have fallen away. It was just you and Dean, a thread pulling tighter between you with every heartbeat.

The waitress dropped the check off at the edge of the table, but neither of you moved for it right away. Dean finally blinked and shook himself, reaching for his wallet with a shy little grin. "First date rule, I pay".

You laughed. "What if I want to split it?".

He looked up at you, something mischievous lighting his face. "Then I guess we'll just have to argue about it over pie".

You grinned back, feeling lighter, feeling like somehow, impossibly, your world had just shifted on its axis. And it was all because of him.

The drive back to your place was quiet, but not in a bad way. It was comfortable. The kind of silence where words weren’t really needed. The radio hummed low with some old classic rock song, and you found yourself sneaking little glances at Dean as he drove, one hand loose on the wheel, the other drumming against his thigh in time with the beat.

You wanted to say something, anything, but part of you was afraid of breaking whatever fragile, magic thing was settling between you.

Dean pulled up in front of your place, the Impala’s headlights cutting across the dark front lawn. For a second, neither of you moved. He sat there, one hand still gripping the wheel, his thumb tapping nervously. You could tell he was working something out in his head, probably the same thing you were.

Finally, he killed the engine, and the rumble of the car faded into a thick, heavy quiet. He climbed out first, jogging around to your side to open the door. You smiled as you took his offered hand, your fingers brushing his calloused palm for a split second longer than necessary.

The walk up to your porch felt… heavier somehow. Every step buzzing with unsaid words.

You turned to face him at the top step, feeling your heart race like a drum against your ribs. Dean stood there a little awkwardly, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, looking at you like he wanted to say a thousand things but didn’t know how.

“Thanks for tonight”, you said, voice softer than you meant it to be.

His smile was shy, almost boyish. “Thanks for saying yes”.

You both laughed lightly, nerves sneaking into the space between you. And then it hit — that moment. The one where normally someone would lean in, someone would kiss someone else, the night would turn into something more.

But neither of you moved.

You wanted to. God, you wanted to. But something about Dean, about the way he was looking at you like you were more than just another date, made you freeze. Not because you didn’t want it, but because you wanted it too much. You didn’t want to ruin whatever was growing here by rushing it.

Dean shifted his weight from one foot to the other, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked almost pained, like he was forcing himself to stay put. Like if he didn’t, he’d crash into you and never pull away. “I, uh…”. He cleared his throat. “I should probably let you get some sleep”.

You nodded, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Early morning”.

Another beat of silence. Another breathless, suspended second where everything could have tipped either way.

Dean finally gave a small, nervous chuckle, stepping back toward the steps. “Goodnight, sweetheart”.

Your heart twisted at the word. Sweetheart. Said like it meant something. “Goodnight, Dean”, you whispered.

You watched him retreat down the steps, his boots scuffing against the wood. He paused at the bottom, glancing back at you one last time. You both stared for a second too long — two people wishing they were braver, but somehow knowing that maybe… waiting was the right thing. That this was too important to rush.

You closed the door gently behind you once he drove away, leaning your back against it with a quiet, shaky breath. God, you probably screwed it up. Should’ve kissed him. Should’ve asked him to stay.

Across town, Dean slammed his palm lightly against the steering wheel, muttering, “Idiot”, under his breath. He should’ve kissed you. Should’ve stayed. But he hadn’t, because he didn’t want to screw this up.

Neither of you knew it yet, but the feeling was mutual.

Dean shoved the Impala into park a little harder than necessary when he rolled into the bunker’s garage. The engine ticked as it cooled, but he just sat there for a minute, gripping the wheel tight enough that his knuckles turned white.

"Smooth, Winchester. Real smooth". He’d had you there, right there, on your porch, looking at him like he’d hung the damn moon, and he… walked away. Like a jackass. Like he didn’t want you so bad it made his chest ache.

Groaning under his breath, Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling about two inches tall. He should’ve kissed you. Should’ve asked when he could see you again. Hell, he should’ve dropped to his damn knees if that’s what it took. Instead, he left you standing there, probably wondering what the hell you’d done wrong.

He finally got out of the car, slamming the door harder than he meant to, boots stomping down the halls of the bunker like thunder.

Sam was still up, sitting at the war table with his laptop open, a beer half-finished in front of him. He looked up when he heard Dean’s heavy footsteps and raised an eyebrow. "Back already?", Sam asked, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Was it that bad?".

Dean shot him a glare that could’ve peeled paint. "Don’t start".

Sam leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed. "Come on, man. I’m just asking. Figured you'd be out all night, maybe even—", he made a vague, teasing gesture "—having dessert somewhere other than a diner".

Dean growled low in his throat, yanking his jacket off and tossing it across a chair. "Yeah, well, didn’t exactly work out that way".

Sam's smirk faded slightly when he caught the edge in Dean's voice. "What happened?".

Dean paced a few steps, dragging a hand through his hair. "What happened?", he repeated, voice rising slightly. "I’ll tell you what happened. I froze up like some goddamn high schooler. I walked her to her porch like a frickin' idiot, stood there like a damn statue, and left".

Sam blinked. "You… didn’t kiss her?".

Dean spun around, throwing his hands up. "No! I didn’t kiss her, I didn’t ask for another date, I didn’t even — hell, I didn’t even try anything!". His voice cracked slightly, full of frustration. "I should’ve kissed her. I should’ve… held her. Made her feel how much I—". He cut himself off, clenching his jaw.

Sam just stared at him, eyebrows raised. "Dean… you like her".

Dean gave a humorless bark of laughter. "No, Sam. I don’t just like her". He pointed at his chest. "I’m screwed. I’m head-over-ass gone for her, and it’s been like, what? A week?".

Sam leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, watching his brother carefully now. "Then why didn’t you tell her that?".

Dean flopped down into a chair with a heavy thud, looking like he’d been punched in the gut. "Because, man. She’s… she’s different. She’s not some random hookup. She’s not… she’s real. And I didn’t wanna screw it up by rushing her. By rushing this". He dropped his head back, staring at the ceiling. "But now she probably thinks I don’t give a damn. That I didn’t feel it".

Sam let the silence stretch a moment, before saying, more gently, "Dean, if she’s even half the woman you think she is… she probably felt the same thing".

Dean didn’t answer. He just sat there, stewing in his own misery, replaying every second of that moment on the porch. The way you looked up at him, your smile, your damn soft eyes practically inviting him closer.

And he just stood there. Didn’t kiss you. Didn’t stay. Didn’t even give you the bare minimum of what you deserved. Dean Winchester wanted to punch himself in the face.

Later that night, Dean sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, phone clutched in his hand like it might explode if he pressed the wrong button. He’d typed out at least fifteen different texts by now. Each one worse than the last.

“Had a good time. Night”. Delete. Sounded like a bad voicemail.

“Hope you got home safe?”. Delete. Dumb. He literally drove you home.

“Didn’t mean to be a weirdo. You’re great. I’m an idiot”. Delete, delete, delete.

Dean dropped his phone onto the bed with a groan, dragging both hands down his face. “Damn it, Winchester, pull it together”.

He stood up, started pacing the room like a caged animal, talking to himself under his breath. “Just text her. Just say somethin’. Anything. She’s probably asleep anyway. Or… worse. Already deciding you’re a freak”.

He paused mid-pace when his phone buzzed on the bed. He stared at it like it was some kind of mirage. One new message. From you. His heart damn near stopped.

Dean lunged for it, almost knocking it off the mattress, and unlocked it with fumbling fingers.

You: Hey… I had a really amazing time tonight. Hope you did too.

Dean exhaled, some of the weight pressing on his chest easing slightly. He sank back onto the bed, rereading the message like it might change. "Don't sound desperate. Don't sound desperate", he muttered under his breath.

He started typing.

Dean: Had a good time too. Food wasn’t half bad. Company was better.

He stared at it. It sounded okay, right? Friendly. Normal. Not like he was sitting in bed grinning like a damn fool just because you texted first. He hit send before he could overthink it again.

Three seconds later, he cursed under his breath. "Food wasn’t half bad?" Fuck, he sounded like a seventy-year-old diner critic. He was about to throw his phone across the room when it buzzed again.

You: Glad you liked the company. I was worried I scared you off.

Dean's jaw actually dropped a little. You? Scared him off? He sat forward, typing faster now, the casual act completely abandoned.

Dean: Not a chance. If anything, I’m worried you’re too good to deal with my crap.

There. Honest, but not too pathetic. The typing dots appeared immediately on your end, and Dean felt his chest tighten like he was waiting for a verdict.

You: Pretty sure I can handle you, Winchester.

Dean actually laughed, a low, relieved sound that filled the empty room. He slumped back against the pillows, running a hand over his face, feeling something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Hope. Something good. Something real.

And damn if it didn’t scare the hell out of him.

Still, he couldn’t stop himself from sending one more text, the one he really wanted to send.

Dean: You busy tomorrow? He hit send before the fear could stop him. Then he sat there, heart pounding like he was waiting for a judge’s ruling, phone clutched tight in his hands.

You: Not busy. Why?

Dean let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He rubbed a hand over his mouth, thinking fast, trying to play it cool, trying not to sound like he was already halfway in love with you.

He started typing. Deleted it. Started again. Deleted that too. Finally, he just gave up trying to be slick and said what he actually meant.

Dean: Wanna see you again. Soon.

It was short. Blunt. Raw. Exactly him. The second it sent, he tossed his phone onto the bed and stood up, pacing again, muttering under his breath. "Way to play it cool, jackass…"

But then the phone buzzed again. He dove for it like a man starving.

You: I'd love that. What did you have in mind?

Dean scrubbed a hand through his hair, grinning like an idiot. He could take you somewhere nice. Plan something… fancy. But that wasn’t him. And after tonight, he didn’t want to pretend with you. He wanted real.

So he answered without overthinking for once:

Dean: Maybe just hang out? Pick up some burgers. Talk. Watch a movie. Something easy. Just… be with you.

Another text immediately after, because he couldn't help himself:

Dean: Unless you had somethin' better in mind. I’m game.

The dots popped up again almost immediately, and this time, Dean didn’t pace or panic. He just smiled, something warm settling deep in his chest.

You: That sounds perfect. What time?

Dean leaned his head back against the wall, grinning so hard it actually hurt.

Dean: Whenever you want, sweetheart. I’m free all day.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Part 2

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[rafeandonlyrafe]

new follower

words: 1.4k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, male receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex

rafe doesn’t follow many people on social media. topper, kelce, a few of his other country club friends, and you. 

the notification shocked you when you woke up one morning and saw that rafe cameron followed you back. you knew him decent enough, mostly through being friends of friends, with rafe being a year ahead of you when you were in school.

you assumed it was a mistake, he was scrolling his recent notifications maybe and accidentally clicked your follow button. you waited for him to realize and unfollow you, but it never happened, not even after a week passed.

“did you see?” you answer your friends call. rafe not only didn’t unfollow you, but he just liked and commented on your picture.

“holy shit. holy shit. holy shit.” stephanies excited voice rings out from the other side of the line, obviously having seen the recent development. “girl, he wants you.” “coming to the party this friday?” you say the message out loud, having already memorized it. you haven’t responded yet, not wanting to seem too crazy by immediately screaming yes. “i mean what else could that mean?” 

“girl, you are getting dicked DOWN at that party.”

--

you tug at rafes zipper, having already undone the button. you know you're moving too fast, should slow down and savor the moment as you sink to your knees.

“mmm, baby, you don't have to.” rafe reaches his hand down to pull you back up, but you already tugged at his pants, lowering them to his thighs so just his underwear is left covering his dick, obviously already hard and straining against the fabric.

“i want to.” you clarify, leaning in and kissing along his length until you reach the head of his cock, suckling at it through the material, wetting it with your mouth.

rafe is just as big as you thought he would be, you can tell just from wrapping your lips around him, making you even more excited to get him inside of you.

“fuck.” rafe groans. “quit teasing me, pretty.”

you smile at rafes compliment, pulling his underwear down, his cock pushing free, standing upright against his body. rafe groans as the cold bathroom air hits his cock, pressing his back even harder into the wall.

you waste no time, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, pausing for a moment to enjoy the taste before you begin to bob your head, unable to take him all the down, but getting pretty damn close before your gag reflex forces you to pull off.

“god, you're just as good as i imagined you'd be.” rafe moans, hands gripping your hair.

“you imagined this?” you ask, pulling away to blink up at rafe through your lashes.

“yeah.” rafe smirks. he's got no shame about being attracted to you. it's rare for a girl to truly capture his attention, especially for any period of time longer than a one night stand.

“oh.” you blush, wanting to know more details as you grasp his cock, stroking it to still give him some stimulation. “before or after you followed me?”

“after. can't believe i never noticed you in high school. your photo popped up in my discover and… god, you're just so pretty.”

“did you touch yourself to me?” you ask, the words tumbling from your mouth before you can stop them.

“you would like it if i did, wouldn’t you dirty girl?” rafe smirks, not giving you a chance to confirm that you really would like it as he pushes your head back down. you allow rafe to control your movements, keeping your mouth open as his cock pushes down your throat.

you swallow around his length, excited to tell all your friends about sucking rafe off in the bathroom at the party, especially stephanie, who you know can’t be far.

“god, i need your cunt. come on.” rafe tugs at your hair.

“yeah, yeah.” you nod, giving one last kiss to the tip of rafes cock before standing.

“turn around.” rafe moves you towards the sink, having you face the mirror. he smirks when you realize you’re watching him in the reflection as he pushes your dress up until your underwear is revealed, having chosen a cute thong specifically for rafe to see.

“jesus, you’re gonna kill me.” rafe groans, hands gripping your ass, feeling your plump flesh in his hands.

“yeah?” you smirk, leaning forward and placing your hands on the marble counter to shake your bum slightly from side to side. 

“too hot, i swear.” he groans, about to pull your underwear to the side when theres a knock on the bathroom door, making you both jump, forgetting that there was still an entire party going on.

“fucking occupied!” rafe shouts. “fuck off!”

you laugh at rafes yelling, listening to whoever knocked walk away, footsteps moving down the hallway.

“jesus.” he groans. “i should take you home before we fuck.” “what, not gentlemanly to take me for the first time in a bathroom?” you laugh.

“you’re not funny. i’m serious.” rafe pouts. “i like you, let me take you back to tanneyhill.” you turn around, pushing yourself up to sit on the counter. you lean forward, pressing your lips against rafes. its flattering that he wants to take you someplace more private, but you’re honestly not sure you can wait.

you reach between your bodies with both hands, moving your thong to the side while guiding rafes cock towards you entrance. you move the head of his cock through your folds, letting out a moan against his lips when you push it against your clit.

“alright, alright, shit.” rafe moans, “i’ll fuck you now.”

“good.” you smirk. “you can fuck me at tanneyhill later too.”

“oh yeah?” rafe laughs, pushing your hands away to take control, placing his hands on your hips as he sinks his cock into your entrance, moving slowly to let you adjust. “just can’t get enough of this cock, huh?” you let out a moan, gripping rafes shoulders as he stays seated inside you, pushing on your walls the perfect amount. 

“move. move, its okay.” you mumble. 

“god, i need a second too pretty girl.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to control himself from absolutely ravaging you and cumming far too early. 

you laugh, cupping rafes jaw with your hands, tugging him close for a kiss. it gives him a moment to settle before he starts to move, cock pushing in and out of your cunt, a wet squelching sound filling the bathroom with every movement.

rafe has one hand gripping your hip while the other slides to your back, keeping you from leaning backwards against the mirror, chest pressed against his.

“let me see your tits, baby.” rafe asks, looking down the top of your dress at your cleavage. you nod, tugging at the front of your dress, pulling it down so your chest is revealed, having forgone a bra. rafe smirks as he looks down, breasts bouncing every time he thrusts into you.

“so hot.” he groans, managing to duck his head to kiss over the swell of your breast while keeping his cock pushing into you. “touch yourself for me.”

rafe picks his head up to press a kiss to your lips before leaning back, looking between your bodies while you start with your tits, cupping one and jiggling it to show off to rafe before playing with your own nipples, switching to the other side.

“your cunt, come on. let me see how you touch yourself.” rafe knows he can't last much longer, needing you to get yourself off since his hands are occupied keeping you in place on the counter.

you sink your hand lower, ruffling over the scrunched up dress until you reach your pussy, sinking lower to gather some of your wetness from where rafe is pumping into you. you glide back up to your clit, rubbing it with two fingers in the way you do when you get yourself off.

“oh, fuck.” rafe groans as you clench around his length. “you're trying to kill me baby.”

“cum inside me.” you whimper. “please.”

“yeah.” rafe nods. “cant last.” you can tell from the way rafes cock swells inside of you that he's close.

“come on.” you begin to grind your hips up and down. “give it to me.”

rafe let's out a strangled moan, half sounding like your name, half sounding like a curse as he cums, pushing his cock as deep inside of you as possible, triggering your own orgasm as you let out a squeal, back arching into him as your fingers slow on your clit.

“fuck, that was good.” you pant, body flopping forward to lean your forehead against rafes shoulder.

“fuck yeah it was.” rafe laughs, carefully pulling his softening cock out of you. he takes your chin in his hand, picking your head up to press a kiss to your lips. “now when can we do that again?”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @mysticallystilinski @https-luvvia @aerangi @folklorsweet @soilderpoetandking @auryyz

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 2: Caught on Camera

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Fandom: Women's basketball

Paring: Paige Bueckers x ! Photographer fem reader

Summary: is this thing still on?... I hope not....

Welcome to chapter 2 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸... if you wanna be added to the tag list let me know!

Avoidance was becoming a bad habit of mine. After the incident with Paige and my shattered camera turned into an internet meme, I couldn’t bring myself to face her—or the team, for that matter. Every social media platform I opened featured the clip: Paige’s epic block, the ball ricocheting, and the destruction of my beloved camera. People had even started adding exaggerated sound effects and captions like, "When life hits you hard…literally."

To make matters worse, Paige addressed the incident during a post-game interview, her sheepish smile making me squirm every time I replayed it in my mind.

“It was an accident,” she had said, laughing softly. “I feel really bad about it. Y/N’s an amazing photographer, and I hope I haven’t scared her off for good.”

Her words made my chest ache, but I still avoided the team practices. I stuck to photographing games with my new camera, keeping my distance from the players—especially Paige.

That’s where KK came in.

“Y/N, you can’t avoid us forever,” KK said, sliding into the seat beside me in class one afternoon. Her tone was light, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes that I didn’t trust.

“I’m not avoiding anyone,” I replied defensively, keeping my gaze on my notes.

“Right,” KK said with a smirk. “That’s why you haven’t shown up to practice all week.”

I sighed, slumping in my chair. “It’s just… easier this way.”

KK rolled her eyes. “You know Paige feels terrible, right? She keeps asking about you.”

My stomach flipped, but I quickly pushed the thought aside. “I’m fine. She doesn’t have to worry about me.”

KK didn’t say anything for a moment, and I thought I’d won the argument—until she spoke again, her voice casual.

“Hey, can you stop by the gym tonight? Coach wants to see some of the practice shots you’ve taken for the project.”

I frowned, suspicious. “Coach? Why would he need to see them now?”

KK shrugged, her expression unreadable. “I don’t make the rules. Just swing by, okay?”

That’s how I found myself at the gym later that evening, camera in hand. The space was eerily quiet, the faint hum of the overhead lights the only sound as I stepped inside.

“Coach?” I called out, my voice echoing.

Instead of Coach, Paige emerged from the shadows, her expression a mix of surprise and apprehension.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice soft.

I froze, my grip tightening on my camera. “Paige? What are you doing here?”

Before she could answer, the gym doors slammed shut behind me, and I turned to see KK waving through the glass window with a wide grin.

“You two need to talk,” KK shouted, her voice muffled by the door. “I’ll let you out in the morning!”

“KK!” I yelled, rushing to the door, but it was locked tight.

Paige let out a small laugh, drawing my attention back to her. “Well, I guess we’re stuck together.”

After a few minutes of awkward silence, I excused myself to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect my thoughts. When I returned, Paige was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the court, my camera in her hands.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

Paige glanced up at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I figured I’d record something for you. An apology, I guess.”

Before I could respond, she pressed a button, and the red recording light blinked off—at least, I thought it did.

“Can we talk?” Paige asked, setting the camera aside.

I hesitated before nodding, taking a seat across from her.

“I’m sorry,” she began, her voice sincere. “About your camera, about everything. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“I know,” I said quietly, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. “It’s just… hard. That camera meant a lot to me, and now everyone’s laughing about it like it’s some big joke.”

Paige’s expression softened, and she scooted closer, her knee brushing against mine. “I get it. I’d hate being the center of a meme, too. But you’re more than that clip, Y/N. Your work is incredible, and I’ve seen the way you capture the game—like you see things the rest of us miss.”

Her words made my chest tighten, and I looked away, feeling vulnerable under her gaze.

“Thanks,” I murmured, my voice barely audible.

Paige reached out, her hand resting lightly on mine. “I mean it. You’re amazing.”

I glanced up, meeting her eyes, and for a moment, the world seemed

to fade away. Her gaze was steady and warm, filled with an honesty that made my heart stutter.

“Paige…” I started, but my voice faltered.

She gave me a small, lopsided smile, her fingers brushing over mine. “I know I messed up, but I want to make it right. Not just with the camera—but with you. Can we… start over?”

I hesitated, the weight of everything between us making it hard to breathe. But then I saw the earnestness in her expression, the vulnerability she rarely let show.

“Okay,” I said softly, nodding. “We can start over.”

A small laugh escaped her, almost a sigh of relief. “Good. Because I really don’t want you avoiding me anymore.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” I lied, though we both knew the truth.

She smirked, leaning back slightly. “Right. You just conveniently disappeared every time I was around?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Fine, maybe I was avoiding you. But only because I didn’t know how to face you after everything.”

“Well,” Paige said, tilting her head, “now you’re stuck with me until KK decides to let us out. So, no more avoiding.”

I chuckled, the tension between us easing slightly. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

We spent the next few hours talking—about basketball, photography, school, and everything in between. Paige was easy to talk to, her laugh infectious and her stories captivating. For the first time in weeks, I felt at ease.

At some point, exhaustion caught up to us, and we ended up lying on the court, our heads close together as we stared up at the ceiling.

“Do you ever think about what’s next?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Paige turned her head to look at me, her expression thoughtful. “All the time. The WNBA feels so close, but at the same time, I’m scared of what it means to leave everything here behind.”

I nodded, understanding her fear. “Change is scary. But you’ll do amazing—you always do.”

Her gaze lingered on me, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” I replied, my words steady.

We fell into a comfortable silence, and before I knew it, I drifted off, the warmth of Paige’s presence lulling me to sleep.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of muffled laughter. Blinking against the light, I realized Paige and I were still lying on the court, her arm draped over me in a way that felt impossibly natural.

“What do we have here?” KK’s voice rang out, teasing and triumphant.

I sat up quickly, my face burning as I saw KK and Azzi standing near the gym doors, their grins wide and mischievous.

“Did you two have a good night?” Azzi asked, raising an eyebrow.

Paige groaned, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. “Seriously, KK? Was this really necessary?”

KK shrugged, clearly unbothered. “Hey, you two needed to work things out. Mission accomplished, right?”

I glanced at Paige, my embarrassment fading slightly as she gave me a small, knowing smile.

“Yeah,” she said, her tone light but sincere. “Mission accomplished.”

As we stood to leave, I grabbed my camera from where it had been resting on the sidelines. A sinking feeling hit me when I noticed the recording light still blinking.

“Oh my God,” I muttered, quickly stopping the recording.

Paige looked over, her eyes widening as realization dawned. “Wait… was that on the whole time?”

I nodded, mortified.

KK burst out laughing. “Guess we’re gonna have some very interesting footage to review!”

Paige and I exchanged a look, equal parts embarrassed and amused. Maybe this wasn’t the worst way to start over after all.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza .... (more to be added)

[thegalleonsnest]

OK since I haven't seen too many people talk about this since twitter news usually strikes pretty fast over here whenever e'usk does anything ever, let me give ya'll the run down on two things that will go live on NOVEMBER 15TH and why people are mass migrating to Blue Sky once more; and provide resources to help protect your art and make the transition to Blue Sky easier if you so choose:

The Block function no longer blocks people as intended. It now basically acts as a glorified Mute button. Even when you block someone, they can still see your posts, but they can't engage in them. If your account is a Public one and not a Private one, people you blocked will see your posts.

They say because people can easily "share and hide harmful or private information about those they've blocked," they changed it this way for "greater transparency." When in reality, this is an extremely dangerous change, as the whole point of blocking is to cease interaction with people entirely for a plethora of reasons, i.e. stalking, harassment, spam, endangerment, or just plainly annoying and not wanting to see said tweets/accounts. or you know, for 18+ accounts who do not want minors interacting with them or their material at all (There is speculation saying these changes are specifically for Elon himself so he can do his own kind of stalking, and honestly, with the private likes change, it lowkey checks out in my opinion)

Also, this straight up goes against and may violate Apple and Google's app store policies and also is straight up illegal in Canada and probably other countries as well.

If this ACTUALLY goes through, twitter will only be available in select countries, probably exclusively in the US, which would collapse the site with the lost of users and stock, and probably be the last push it needs to kill the site. And if not, will be a very sad and exclusive platform made for specific kinds of people who line up with musk's line of thinking.

2. New policies regarding Grok AI and basically removing the option to opt out of Grok's information gathering to improve their software.

And anything you upload/post on the site is considered "fair game" with "royalty-free licenses" and they can do whatever they please with it. Primarily using any and all posts on twitter to train their Grok AI. A few months ago, there was a setting you can opt out of so they couldn't take anything you post to "improve" Grok, but I guess because so many people were opting out, they decided to make it mandatory as part of the policy change (This is mainly speculation from what I hear).

So this is considered the final straw for a LOT of people, especially artists who have been gripping on to twitter for as long as they can, but the AI nonsense is too much for people now, including myself. Lot's of people are moving to Blue Sky for good reason, and from personal experience, it is literally 10x better than twitter ever was, even before elon took over. There is no algorithm on there, and you can save "feeds" to your timeline to have a catered timelines to hop between if your looking for something specific like furry art or game dev stuff. It's taken them a bit to get off the ground and add much needed features, but it's genuinely so much better now

RESOURCES

Project Glaze & Cara

If you're an artist who's still on twitter or trying to ride it out for as long as you can for whatever reason you have, do yourself a favor and Glaze and/or Nightshade your work. Project Glaze is a free program designed to protect your art work from getting scrapped by AI machines. Glazing basically makes it harder to adapt and copy artwork that AI programs try to scan, while Nightshade basically "poisons" works to make AI libraries much more unstable and generate images completely off the mark. (These are layman's terms I'm using here, but follow the link to get more information)

The only problem with these programs is that they can be resource intensive for computers, and not every pc can run glaze. It's basically like rendering a frame/animation, you gotta let your pc sit there to get it glazed/nightshade, and depending on the intensity and power of your pc, this may take minutes to hours depending on how much you wanna protect your work.

HOWEVER, there are two alternatives, WebGlaze and Cara

WebGlaze is an in browser version of the program, so your pc doesn't have to do the heavy lifting. You do need to have an account with Glaze and be invited to use the program (I have not done so personally so I don't know much about the process.)

Cara is an artist focused site that doubles as both a portfolio site and a general social media platform. They've partnered with Glaze and have their own browser glazing called "Cara Glaze," and highly encourage users to post their work Glazed and are extremely anti-ai. You do get limited uses per day to glaze your work, so if you plan on doing a huge backlog uploading of your art, it may take awhile if your using just Cara Glaze.

Some twitter users have suggested glazing your art, cropping it, and overlaying it with a frame telling people to follow them elsewhere like on Bluesky. Here's a template someone provided if you wanna use this one or make your own.

Blue Sky Resources and Tips

So if your a twitter user and your about to realize the hellish task of refollowing a massive chunk of people you follow, have no fear, there's an extension called Sky Follower Bridge (Firefox & Chrome links). This is a very basic extension that makes it really easy to find people on Bluesky

It sorts them out by trying to find matching usernames, usernames in descriptions, or by screen name. It's not 100% perfect, there's a couple people I already follow on Blue Sky but the extension could not find them on twitter correctly, but I still found a huge chunk of people. Also if your worried that this extension is "iffy," they do have a github open with the source publicly available and the Blue Sky Team themselves have promoted the extension in their recent posts while welcoming new users to the platform.

FEEDS and LABELS

OK SO THE COOLEST PART ABOUT BLUESKY IS THE FEEDS SYSTEM. Basically if you've made a twitter list before, it's like that, but way more customizable and caters to specific types of posts/topics. Consolidating them into a timeline/feed that exclusively filled about those particular topics, or just people in general. There's thousands to pick and choose from!

Here's a couple of mine that I have saved and ready (down below). Some feeds I have saved so I can jump to seeing what my friends and mutuals are up to, and see their posts specifically so it doesn't get lost in reposts or other accounts, and also specialized feeds for browsing artists within the furry community.

The Furry Community feeds I have here were created by people who've built an algorithm to place any #furry or #furryart or other special tags like #Furrystreamer or #furrydev. They even have one for commissions, and yes you can say commissions on a post and not have it destroyed or shadow banned. You are safe.

If you want, and I highly recommend it to get visibility and check out a neat community, follow furryli.st to get added to their list and feeds. Once your on the list, even without a hashtag, you'll still pop up in their specialized feeds as just a member of the community there. There are plenty of other feeds out there besides this one, but I feel like a lot of people could use one like this. They even got ones for OC specific too I remember seeing somewhere.

And in terms of labels, they can be either ways to help label yourself with specific things or have user created accessibility settings to help better control your experience on Blue Sky.

And my personal favorite: Ai Imagery Labeler. Removes any AI stuff or hides it to the best of it's abilities, and it does a pretty good job, I have not seen anything AI related since subscribing to it.

Finally, HASHTAGS WORK & No need to censor yourself!

This is NOT like twitter or any other big named social media site AT ALL, so you don't have to work around words to get your stuff out there and be seen. There are literally feeds built around having commissions getting and art seen! Some people worry about bots and that has been a recent issue since a lot of people are migrating to Blue Sky, but it comes with any social media territory.

ALSO COOL PART,

you can search a hashtag on someone's profile and search exclusively on that profile as well! You can even put the hashtag in bio for easy access if you have a specialize tag like here on tumblr. OR EVEN BUILD YOUR OWN ART FEED FOR YOUR STUFF SPECIFICALLY!

So yeah, there's your quick run down about twitter's current burning building, how to protect your art, and what to do when you move to Blue Sky! Have fun!

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: choi hansol

forced proximity

'coincidence? baby, they don't exist'

'so, what's your name?'

you blink, turning around to face the guy with who you got stuck in the elevator. he is now comfortably sitting on the floor with his knees tucked closer to his chest, leaning on the wall. the look on his face has zero traces of nerves or anxiety, he's opening bag of chips with a small smile on his face, looking at you like what is happening right now is absolutely normal. is this how an average day goes for him?

'you think this button is broken?' you ask instead, turning back. you push at 'call' button again but no sound comes out. 'we can't actually be stuck here with no connection to the outside world, right?'

'it happens quite often.' my god, so you were right, this is an average day for him. 'but no, this button works, we just need to wait a little. maybe these guys are out somewhere.'

'out where?' you ask, turning back to him. smell of chips starts filling up the cabin and you try to concentrate on it instead of thinking about being stuck here forever. 'should i just keep on pressing that button?'

your voice gets caught in your throat because the guy looks at you with... you don't know what. his gaze is piercing and it's like he's looking right at you, within you, in your soul. it's unsettling, especially when it comes from someone that handsome. in all three months since you moved into this apartment complex, you only met several families and few kids here and there, but never this guy. your brain unnecessarily reminds you that right now you're standing in front of a really handsome guy in old washed out t-shirt and pj pants, while he's at least dressed in jeans and sweatshirt.

'i'm hansol,' he says suddenly, breaking your thinking spiral. 'your neighbor from the forth floor.' he then pats a space next to him: 'come sit? i think it's more comfortable than standing.' you open your mouth to argue when he adds: 'i'll be the one pressing that button, no worries. just come sit down, yeah? you can meditate that way better, no?'

your nose scrunches in confusion. 'meditate?'

it's time for hansol to look sheepish. 'isn't this what people do when they start panicking? i mean- i am not implying that you are panicking right now, but you look pretty worried and i thought- shit, you are not panicking, right? there really is no need to, i promise we will be out of here in no time. i thought if you can sit and mediate then you can-' he shuts up, noticing his rambling and how your eyes grow only bigger with each word he says. after a second of hesitation, he stands up, grabs his chips and comes over to you, shoving them in your direction. 'here. chips.'

there are a lot of things that you can say or do, but your mind chooses to grab offered snack and silently move to where he was sitting. hansol seems to approve, as he smiles a little and leans with his back on the opposite wall so he can still look at you, while insistently pressing the 'call' button. 'so.'

'yes?' you raise your head, slowly munching on the chip. it's salty taste helps you stay here in the moment instead of disappearing in the anxiety.

'i feel like it's my fate, you know? to get stuck in the elevators. like god is trying to tell me something through it, you know? like i don't get stuck just because, i get stuck for something. and then i think-'

it takes you five seconds to realize that hansol is doing this on purpose. he is distracting you so you won't panick and this gesture is incredibly sweet for a random stranger. you're not sure how much time passes, because hansol's storytelling is fascinating (and a bit weird, but in a more 'not ordinary' way than bad). you don't notice how your spine is not rigid anymore, but hansol does. he notices how you slowly relax, hold his gaze more and eat chips more actively. he notices how corners of your eyes crinkle when you smile and how cute you look with confusion written all over your face. in truth, he has no idea what he is even saying, but he can't stop, can't let you remember even for a second that this stupid elevator is not working. his thumb is numb from how strongly he pushes on that 'call' button but he ignores it in favor of staring in your eyes, catching every emotion that sparkles in them. you are cute and you don't even realize it and that makes you even cuter.

'hello? is someone there?' when static voice cuts through, both of you jump a little. 'apologies for this horrible inconvinience, elevator will start working in few minutes. are you alright?'

hansol takes a look at your surprised face and half-finished bag of chips. 'yeah, we are all good.'

pang of regret slashes through him when you hastily stand up and cheer, when cabin finally starts descending. shit, he didn't even manage to learn your name! when elevator door opens, hansol reaches out for your hand and is pleasantly surprised when you take it with a smile, rushing out with the cutest little 'whoop!' he saw in his life.

'i think you are right,' you suddenly speak, making him look up. 'what you said about you getting stuck in the elevators meaning something? i think you're meant to help people like me.'

i think i was meant to meet you, he wants to say but doesn't. instead what comes out of his mouth is: 'you owe me.' at your confused expression, he points at his snack. 'chips.'

'oh. oh!' you exclaim, getting flustered. 'of course, i will-'

'-and your name.' he adds, making you freeze. he watches understanding dawn on you and smiles. 'and your favorite drink. so i would know what to buy for you.'

it's bold. not exactly his style, but his head-to-mouth filter is not working anymore. for a second he thinks he overdid it, but then you blush (so prettily), then smile (so, so prettily) and he knows he didn't mess up. when you step closer and introduce yourself, hansol knows he not only didn't mess up, but also won something out of this whole situation. (and he doesn't know it yet, but this big win? it's your heart. it really is).

a/n: guilty for having this trope as my most favorite one!! and who is better than hansol to write this for, am i right? - nini

my other works are here

[cherryredstars]

I'm not done with my break, but....

Imagine Miguel or Price forcing you to take just the tip.

NSFW, 18+, Penetrative Sex with afab!reader:)))

His reading glasses slide down the bridge of his nose, his brows furrowed in concentration as both of his thumbs spread the sticky lips of your pussy apart. They give easily, showing him the wet mess between your thighs as you whine and squirm in embarrassment. It makes him chuckle. You're the one who begged him to stop working and pay attention to you. What's the point of being embarrassed now that he's playing with you? Silly little thing you are.

The cold air against you makes you jolt your hips, bucking them closer to him. He has this dreamy, hungry look in his eyes as he examines your pretty hole. A tiny little thing that clenches around nothing and cries tears of arousal. Sweet thing really was crying f'my attention, huh? He whispers down at you. S'mean of me to keep you waiting, wasn’t it?

The embarrassed nod of agreement you give him is the cutest little thing he's ever seen. He coos down at you, and you gasp when the cold frames of his glasses bump your clit as he gives an apologetic kiss to your hole. No more crying, m'here to make it all better, he reassures when he leans back into his former position. He moves his hips forward, groaning when his heavy tip slaps against the wet paradise between your legs. He rubs it against your center, quickly getting drunk on the thick, wet noise that the movement creates.

The underside of his tip, and then some, becomes glossy from the juice you keep spilling for him. It makes his own slit dribble with precum, and he looks up at you. The sweetest pout covers your face, and you sniffle once your eyes meet his. Your voice is so whiny when you ask him to stop teasing, that you need him inside you right at this very moment. His cute baby, so greedy and spoiled because of him. His sweet baby that he can't refuse, but always knows how to teach a lesson to.

His thumbs holding you open gives him a clear view of how his mushroom tip enters your waiting hole with a pop. The creamy noise of his head brushing against your walls sound divine, dragging a groan from his lips. You expect him to push further in, but instead he pulls out to the point where the two of you are barely connected. What are you-? you ask, only to be interrupted by your own mewl as he pushes his tip back inside of you. The smile he gives you is devilish, shaking his head the slightest bit as he continues the slow fucking of his tip. M'teaching you that it's rude to interrupt people when they're working.

You cry out in both pleasure and despair, trying to move your hips so you can sink further onto him. He sees through you instantly, tutting disapprovingly. His hands pull away from your cunt, a large hand pushing on your lower stomach to halt your movements while the other wraps around your thigh and holds it in place. The muscles of his arm flex around your thigh, and he moans out when he feels you clench around him from the display of power. You're forced to take what he gives, whimpering as he feeds your desperate hole his tip.

The warmth and wetness of your walls drives him mad, his eyes half-lidded as they watch. The stimulation is insane, especially when you clench around him in a sorry attempt to convince him to give you more. He doesn't, but he decides to be nice and extend his thumb down, flicking at the neglected bud between your legs. You sequel the moment he starts playing with it, and he curses as he feels his orgasm building. He swipes hard and quick at your button, trying to get you close before he finishes. When your leg in his grip begins to tense, he knows he's got you right where he wants you.

You cry out when he pulls his tip out. Usually, he would hate having his cum go to waste, but he can handle it just this once. His thumb presses into your clit, but he stops playing with it as he jerks himself off. With a few rough pumps, his thick cum splatters against your cunt. It paints your skin a beautiful milky white, and he wishes he had his phone on him to take a picture. For now, he's content to watch his cum slowly drip down to cover your entire cunt. His eyes sharpen as he watches the way his seed follows every dip and shape of your pussy, loving the lazy path it makes. But he's fucked the moment it reaches your aching hole.

Your little hole can't help but clench and throb, trying desperately to coax some of his cum inside of you. So fucking greedy. He has to grit his teeth, the hand on your leg tightening as he realigns his cock. You squel again when he pushes his tip, and cum, through your hole. Can't let it go to waste.

[dahlibae]

your blog is sooo 🫠🥵 so good!!!!

Jealous sugar mommy Wanda has been so on my brain!! Every event you go to she makes sure you look stunning but it’s always an excuse to make sure people stare and flirt so that she can haul your ass out to the car and punish you. Just to take you back in with your head hanging blushing and sore as you try to socialize now. Just. Yes.

warning(s) — drabble: mommy wanda, brat!reader, kissing, punishment, spanking, choking (18+)

AHHH THANK UUUU SWEETIE :P

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i won’t lie i’ve been thinking about mommy wanda and how she wouldn’t tolerate brattiness. or back chat. or any kind of attitude towards her. like at all. 100%… but pushing buttons would be soo much fun, especially when you know all you’d have to do is bat your lashes at someone in front of mommy, and she’ll have you spread over her lap in no time lmaoo.

at first, i think she wouldn’t go so hard on you though just bc you like to “bat your slutty eyes at anyone with cleavage” as she would put it. but it would be the fact you don’t cave into submission after she’s already told you off for your behaviour.

it would drive her mental.

you would say something simple like: “well at least she’d treat me like her gf and not a show pony” or even worse, “bet she’d probably fuck me better too” bc let’s face it, at these events wanda has to be all serious and more than often if she doesn’t need you to win her favours she leaves you to your own devices. it’s not rlly your fault you’ve managed to find someone else to keep you company.

but that is exactly what would do it for the older woman.

and the fact that she’s already spanked your ass red and yet you still have an attitude.

she’d push you off her lap and head for the drivers seat, not saying a word to you and not waiting for you to climb into the passenger seat. she’d just drive home as fast as she could without care if you were in the back or the front or even the roof of the vehicle.

even after you arrived home, she wouldn’t say anything, immediately heading to the kitchen to pour another drink. the silence would kill you, and you knew you were in deeper shit than you wanted. it was supposed to be just a little fun, something to rile her up. not exactly hurt her… so to make it up to mommy, you’d go upstairs and undress before kneeling on the bed waiting for her to join.

when she finally arrived upstairs, you could tell she had began unzipping her dress. her eyes were cold and drifted over your bare frame before heading towards the wardrobe where she watched herself in the mirror as she slid the dress off her frame.

“you know… i got all dolled up just for you baby.” she’d caress at her sides as you took in the sight of the red lace against her alabaster skin,“wanted to take you home after tonight and show you how much i love it when you’re a good girl for me.”

okay so… not upset. but maybe homicidal?

she looked like she wanted to eat you alive.

the dress left in a pile on the floor, she’d now stand in front of you, delicate fingers trailing over your sensitive nipples, licking her lips as she watched your skin shiver underneath her. absentmindedly, you’d raise your hands to grab onto her hips, fingers immediately reaching for the protruding bones of her pelvis you just love to kiss and bite and suck…and that snaps her out of her trance as she steps away from you.

that look of adoration she usually has on her face now replaced with the cold one from before. she’d step back into you, this time crowding your space, as her hand wraps around your throat, and she tips your head back to meet hers. you’d look so adorable, flustered with a little pout on your lips that she’d have no choice but to press few kisses, demanding entrance so she could suck on your tongue, before refocusing on the task at hand.

you had been such a bad girl for her.

and wanda doesn’t like when her girl misbehaves.

“oh baby,” she’d release your lips with a loud smack, “it’s too bad mommy now has to beat the brat out of you, huh?”