#how can you be so blind how can you close your eyes to this

[rodolfoparras]

A Man Can Dream (or so he’s been told)

+18 MDNI +18

Synopsis:

In which he doesn’t mind the age gap

comments, not at all

Cw: top male reader, dom male reader, age gap, exhibition kink, someone thinks he’s your dad and he likes it, Valentine’s Day date!

Thinking about dating an old man who isn’t bothered about the age gap comments matter of fact he finds that he enjoys them, especially when he comes across someone who thinks you’re his son, and the two of you just happen to have a really close bond

“Raised him right” of course, taught you how to keep a cock in your mouth, brought you to your knees and stretched your throat just right til he was sure you carried an indent of his cock on your tongue.

“Like father like son,” the words echo in his mind as he watches you spit into the palm of your hand, eagerly stroking his tip, before spreading it to the rest of his dick, just like he had showed you when you first fucked him.

Those people probably think he’s a pervert , a disgusting old man taking advantage of someone so young and innocent, walking hand in hand with someone who could be his son or something

But they don’t know how’d you’d willingy bend him over in front of those very same people, spreading his legs so wide you’re sure to give a show to whoever’s behind, force his hand behind his back before driving up into him.

He’d beg and plead: for you to slow down your brutal pace, to spare him the embarrassment but you wouldn’t listen to him, only using him as a hole to sheath your cock in, all while grinning at the people watching.

He wonders if they’d realize then that you’re the perverted one here, that he’s tried to reject you multiple times, thought the very same thing as the onlookers are thinking now but you wouldn’t give up, practically cornered him riled him up til he was painfully hard in his pants and couldn’t do anything else but shove his cock into your mouth, letting someone who could practically be his son give him the best blowjob he’d ever gotten.

He’d continue to watch the onlookers and the flurry of emotions on their faces : the look of surprise that turns into disgust before something else bleeds into it, something he’d almost dare call desire. The sudden realization would make him tightening around your dick which in turn would fasten the brutal pace you have on him. Eventually he wouldn’t be able to ignore the heat coiling in his groin, and he’d realize belatedly he’s fucking himself back onto your cock, even though his body aches in protest and his thrusts are nothing but sloppily and sporadic.

Somehow you’d find it in yourself to show him mercy: slightly shifting your positions to give him a bit more leverage. In that very moment he’d be sure the sky had been cracked open, pearly gates of heaven practically welcoming him, stairs cascading right at his feet. But the sudden white light that flashes past his eyes would blind him, the pearly gates disappearing as something else is presented to him: his orgasm, washes over him in violent waves til he forgets all about god angels and heaven , cock spurting ropes of cum til he’d feel like he’s been wrung dry.

God, heaven and angels be damned.

“Love? Love?“

Suddenly a voice breaks through the daze. Mellow and sweet. Had an angel decided to wait around for him?

But when he blinks a couple of times, he sees your concerned face staring back at him, the aroma of coffee surrounding him, a half finished coffee cup clinging onto his fingers it’s almost hurting him

“Are you okay?”

Right.

Coffee shop. Date. You. Him.

“If it’s about the waiter from earlier..”

Right. Waiter. Curly hair. Warm eyes. Thought it was sweet that you were spending Valentine’s Day with your dad, like that very same man wasn’t palming your cock under the table, like he hadn’t sucked you off before you got to the coffee shop, like he wasn’t fantasizing about all the ways you could fuck him in front of these people.

Dad. Dad. Dad

Suddenly he springs up in his seat, mutters something about needing the restroom before scurrying away from where you’re sitting.

Jesus christ.

[trinnityn]

Countess Kiramman

Warnings: 18+ content below. vampire!cait, reader is on her period, pussy eating, biting, hair pulling, tit slapping, orgasm denial, tit sucking, did all that with the cloak still on so if you're into that, its a win, BARELY proofread

A/N: Happy late valentines day! i was busy chat💔 love you all though tysm for the likes on my last post🥳

you lay in bed, your room desolate and dark with the blinds shut as you pressed a hand onto your abdomen. its valentines day. you should be spending time with your girlfriend, not cooped up in your room like this! but can you really blame urself? your stomache feels like its been stomped on and- your thoughts were cut short as soon as you heard your door click, a slight creak following as it opened.

you turned slightly, and there she was. your girlfriend stood at the door of your bedroom, her cloak draped over her shoulders as the high collar over exaggerates her figure, bouquet at hand and chocolates at another. "may i?" she questioned with a slight tilt to her head. you nodded before cait extended a foot in.

she walked in before taking a seat on the side of your bed and carefully putting down her gifts on your nightstand before placing a soothing hand on your shoulder as she uttered out gently "how are you feeling, sweetheart?" all cait got was a whine from your lips. she took the initiative and spooned you from behind, pressing a soft kiss to the column of your neck.

"shh.. its okay, honey. you dont have to respond. just let me take care of you, okay?" caitlyn didnt wait for an answer as she worked her hand all the way down to your abdomen, massaging in a pattern in order to soothe your ache.

a small whine escaped her throat as she murmured "feels good.." cait's mouth twitched up to a small smile as she whispered gently "look at me. dont turn away from me." you turned your head to the side as your gaze meets cait's. her smile seemed to widen before leaning in for a kiss.

she deepened the kiss, her hand snaking behind your head to pull you in as she closed her eyes, nipping at your bottom lip for access you instinctively let her in, her tongue plunging into your mouth in a passionate kiss.

caitlyn adjusted her position so she was hovering ontop of you, she reluctantly pulled away from the kiss. "heard that an orgasm can actually relieve cramps." she mumbled agaisnt your lips. "you wanna give me one then?" you teased back with a small grin.

caitlyn trailed kisses down to your collarbones as her hands worked to unbutton your shirt, she stilled her movements to whisper softly "why do you think im trying to undress you right now?" before resuming. her hands succesfully let your top get undone, cait eyed at your tits before taking one of your hardened buds into her warm mouth.

you let out a satisfied sigh, placing a hand onto caitlyn's head as you caressed it softly, caitlyn looked up with you with an almost predatory gaze. she took her time switching from one nipple to the other as she sucked, producing a lewd slurping sound that went straight to your core before she let go of your nipple with a wet, obscene pop.

"where do you think i should touch next?" she poked fun at you with a smirk, knowing how you've been rubbing your thighs together for the slightest bit of friction to relieve the throb in between them. "cait.." you whined, elongating her name on your tongue.

you cup her cheeks as you run a thumb on her bottom lip, dragging it down slightly to reveal her sharp fangs. "just admit you're hungry." cait bit on your thumb slightly, hard enough to draw blood as it trickled into her mouth. you winced in pain.

"cait.. ouch." you withdrew your hands "im sorry. i didnt mean to bite that hard, i was being incautious." she spoke with remorse before she grabbed your wrist gently and placed an apologetic kiss onto the open cut. "may i countinue, darling?" You nodded with a small, reassuring smile.

caitlyn's focus trailed down to the waistband of your panties, hooking a finger onto them. her eyes looked into yours, searching for a twinge of hesitation in them. you nodded and caitlyn immediately jumped into action at the green light.

she slid down your panties at a leisurely pace before throwing them aside, revealing your glistening red cunt to her hungry gaze. it took every part of her being to not pounce onto you immediately. she gently coaxed your legs to open wider with a hand on both thighs.

your body cant help but surrender to her and let her handle every movement. she lifted a leg on each side of her shoulders before placing a small kiss on your twitching clit.

"remember your safeword, darling?" her hands rested on the underside of your thighs. "blue." you responded albeit impatiently. "good girl." she promptly resumed to the task at hand, diving into your crimson red coated folds. as she looked up attentively at every slight change in your features.

"cait.." you cried out as your face contorted into pleasure. small moans exited your throat as her tongue delved deeper into your sopping cunt, feeding her appetite with the tangy, coppery taste of blood.

her nose nudged on your clit as she drank in every fluid. her desperation producing wet, sloppy sounds before her hand traveled up to cup one of your breasts, taking your nipple inbetween her index finger and thumb. rolling it slowly, pinching it up.

your back arched instictively at the action. each motion of caitlyn's tongue in your tight chanel sparking stars in your vision, head rolling back as your hands fists the sheets underneath. you murmur breathlessly inbetween a string of wanton moans "cait.. im gonna cum.. let me cum, please."

a sharp slap landed on your breast as she looked up at you, an unspoken threat laid behind her eyes. "cait.. please." you pleaded as tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, the sting of your incoming orgasm stimulating your body further.

cait proceeds with pleasuring you, her hand resuming it's place on your boob. her own whimpers were muffled, vibrating against your pussy. your hand snaked to make a makeshift ponytail as your gripped onto caitlyn's hair, forcing caitlyn's ministrations deeper into your folds.

caitlyn hummed contently, but you? you were anything but content. the burn of your prolonged orgasm made your back arch as you pleaded "cait, please.. i cant hold it back anymore." your whimpers only getting more distressed.

caitlyn's tongue only got harsher on their relentless assault to your weeping pussy. your hips stuttered as they arched up, unable to restrain yourself anymore, you go against caitlyn's order as you finally let go of the coil tightening in your abdomen.

a lengthy moan of caitlyn's name left your throat as the small bud twitched as you gushed onto caitlyn's face. she quickly latched her mouth onto your aching clit to catch any stray drops into her mouth.

your orgasm eventually subsides as caitlyn's movements stagnated, pressing a farewell kiss to your wet slit as she lifted her face up.

"cait- im so sorry about your face, and i-" your panicked inquiry was interrupted by her chuckling, her pearly whites poking out as they were stained with blood.

"save your apologies after your punishment, darling." she uttered softly against your neck before sinking in her canines into the smooth skin of your neck.

this is going to be a long night.

A/N: can you tell this is rushed? this sucks so hard tbh. im gonna be releasing some vi hcs later today if i have the time LMAO cause i barely had any for this 1. love you all💗

-XOXO, Trinnifer 💋

[fullsunstrawberry]

[Part 25: gonna eat him up]

synopsis: New year's resolution leads to you hitting the gym with your two muscle-head friends. But things get complicated when feelings and emotions are involved.

word count: 4.3k (didn’t proof read, didn’t have time lol)

content warnings: sex in a pool, spit kink, cunilingus, praising kink, kind of mean dom Jeno, no condom mentioned (ops), a lot of use of the words heat/cock/dick/bulge, grinding, etc.

a/n: happy valentine’s day to all my single people out there!!! Also want to dedicate this post to my Valentine pookie bear @johnnysuhbmarine <3

taglist (18+) CLOSED

"Let's go to the pool," Jeno says casually like he hasn’t been stealing glances at you all night, waiting for the right moment to ask.

You don’t bother looking up from your phone, already getting ready to tease him. “You just want an excuse to see me in a swimsuit.”

He doesn’t even pretend to deny it. “Yeah, so what?”

You giggle as the bed shifts beneath you. When you look up, he’s sitting there with his swim trunks in his hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes, tilting his head toward the private pool just outside. “It’s just us. You know you want to.”

You pretend to think about it, stretching out on the bed like you have all the time in the world. “Fine but if I catch you staring, you owe me a massage.”

Jeno smirks, leaning down until his lips hover just beside your ear. “Don’t need a bet for that, baby. I was gonna do it anyways.”

The warm water and dim pool lights make the night feel almost unreal. You step in slowly, letting the sensation wash over you. You can feel Jeno’s gaze before you even look up.

He’s leaning against the edge of the pool, arms spread along the ledge, watching you with no shame.

You raise an eyebrow. "Not even trying to be sneaky, huh?"

Jeno grins. “Why would I, when you look this good?”

You roll your eyes, but heat creeps up your neck anyway. Deciding to test him, you swim closer, stopping just inches away. His eyes darken the second you enter his space.

“If you’re gonna stare all night, at least do something useful,” you tease.

His hands find your waist under the water, fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles against your skin. “And how do I do that?”

“By letting me win when I race you.”

Jeno chuckles, low and deep. “Oh, baby, that’s not happening.”

You pout, trailing your fingers lightly along the back of his neck. “Not even if I say please?”

His grip tightens. “I see what you’re doing.”

You laugh softly, but before you can say anything else, he pulls you closer, pressing you against him as the water splashes around you.

“You like me too much to play dirty,” he murmurs, voice husky, gaze flicking between your lips and your eyes.

You smirk. “Maybe I do. But I think you like me more, so you will let me.”

His lips brush the corner of your mouth, slow, lingering. “I think you’re right,” he breathes,“ and I think I want you to be mine. Officially mine.”

Your heart skips a beat. The words settle between you, heavier than the heat in his gaze, heavier than the teasing touches between you two.

You press your forehead against his, fingers tangling in his damp hair. “Jeno… I already am.”

The space between you vanishes as he kisses you—deep and slow. Any lingering doubt melts away in the warmth of his lips and the steady press of his body against yours.

At that moment, you were silently thanking that this was a private pool, leaving just the two of you.

Jeno pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours, filled with both tenderness and hunger. "I can’t believe you're finally mine," he confessed softly, as if speaking too loudly might jinx it.

A smile tugged at your lips, your heart swelling with warmth. "I was always yours," you whispered in response, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertip.

His lips curl into a wide, satisfied smile. "Yeah, but now it’s official."

"Yes, all yours. No more stupid blind dates just to get over you," you assured him, leaning in to capture his lips in another kiss, feeling his puppy-like smile on your lips.

"Now you can just get under me instead."

You can’t help but giggle at his cheesy line, shaking your head in playful disbelief. “That’s so stupid,” you tease, but the heat in your chest tells a different story.

"Jeno hums against your lips, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you closer, spinning you so you're now pressed against the pool wall."

The water splashes around you, splashing softly against your skin, but all you can focus on is the way his body feels pressed against yours.

“God I love you,” he murmurs, voice thick with something you don’t quite have the strength to tease him for. His breath fans across your cheek as his nose brushes yours. “Love you so much.”

It took a moment for his words to register, your focus more on the way his body was pressed against yours.

Love.

Your fingers tighten in his hair as your heart races, a rush of emotion swelling in your chest so fast it leaves you dizzy. He loves you. Jeno loves you. And the way he says it—like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

Damn it. You wanted to say it first.

A shaky laugh escapes your lips, and Jeno pulls back just enough to search your face, brows furrowing. “What?” he asks softly, his hands steadying you against the pool’s edge, his thumb brushing slow circles against your skin.

You shake your head, biting your lower lip, trying to swallow down the flood of feelings threatening to spill over. “I was supposed to say it first,” you mumble, half-pouting, half-smiling.

Jeno blinks, and then a slow, knowing grin spreads across his lips. “Oh, yeah?” His voice dips, teasing, but there’s something soft in his gaze, something gentle. “You’ve been holding out on me, baby?”

Your cheeks burn, but you don’t look away. “Yeah,” you admit, fingers trailing down to rest over his chest, feeling its steady, heavy rhythm beneath your touch. “I wanted to be the first one to say it.”

His hands tighten on your waist, his expression melting into something unbearably affectionate. “You still can,” he murmurs, leaning in until his lips are just a breath away from yours.

You swallow, your heart beating fast, but this time, you don’t hesitate. You meet his gaze, steady, certain, and let the words spill freely.

“I love you, Jeno.”

The second they leave your lips, he exhales sharply, like he’s been waiting. Like he’s been holding his breath for this very moment. Then he’s kissing you, hard and deep, like he wants to make sure you feel every ounce of what he can’t put into words.

And just like that, you don’t care who said it first anymore. Because it doesn’t matter. You love each other. The worries about how things might get awkward with the group, or whether your friends will accept this, fade away. None of that matters now. It’s just the two of you, and that’s all that ever truly mattered.

Jeno pulls you from your thoughts by pressing his bulge against you, his chest rising and falling with each breath. “I love all of you,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ve always been in love with you.”

A heat rushes to your stomach, spreading lower as his fingers flex against your bare skin. You tilt your head back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes under the glow of the pool lights.

“So show me,” you challenge, voice softer than you intend.

Jeno doesn’t hesitate.

He lifts you effortlessly, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist, the cool water doing little to calm the heat building between you two.

His lips find yours again, hungrier this time–claiming. You gasp into his mouth, fingers tangling in his damp hair yet again while he presses his bulge on your heat, letting you feel every inch of him. His lips trail down, kissing a slow path along your jaw, then lower, his teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver racing down your spine.

“Jeno…” His name slips out in a breathless whisper, but it’s enough to make him groan against your skin.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, his voice rough. His hands slide up, his touch possessive.

"Jeno…" His name slips out in a breathless whisper, but it’s enough to make him groan against your skin. His hands slide up, his touch possessive, sending needles beneath your skin.

His lips curve into a smirk. “I love it when you say my name like that.” He shifts you higher against the pool wall, the water swirling around your hips, making you arch your back.

He wastes no time. His mouth closes over yours, a possessive kiss that steals your breath and leaves you trembling. He deepens it, tongue tangling with yours, and the sensations are overwhelming. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down your jawline, to the sensitive part of your neck, making you moan his name again.

“Jeno…” It's less of a name and more of a plea, a desperate sound torn from your lips.

He seems to thrive on it. He lifts his head just enough to meet your eyes, and the raw hunger in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine. “I want you, Y/N," he whispers, his voice husky, almost desperate. "God, I want you so bad."

Without breaking eye contact, he shifts his grip, sliding his hands beneath your thighs, and lifts you effortlessly. You gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping tighter around his waist for balance. He steps back, positioning you on the edge of the pool, your hips flush against the cool tile, the water dripping down your legs.

The movement brings him face to face with your heat, pressed against the thin fabric of your bikini bottom. Before looking up to look into your eyes.

Your breath hitches, and a blush creeps up your neck, but you don't look away. You meet his gaze, your eyes locking with his, silently consenting.

He leans closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. "Tell me you want me too," he murmurs, his voice thick with need.

"I want you, Jeno," you whisper back, the words barely audible.

His lips curve into a possessive smile, and he pulls himself up out of the water, capturing your lips in another heated kiss. Pressing closer, his hips grinding against yours, and pulling a gasp from your lips. His hands roam down your back, cupping your bottom, lifting you higher against the pool edge.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, baby," he murmurs against your skin. He pulls back slightly, his eyes staring into yours.

"Are you ready for me?"

You swallow hard, your heart hammering against your ribs. You nod, your eyes locked on his, trusting him completely.

His smile is slow and predatory, and he pulls back just slightly, his gaze dropping to your bikini bottom. A flicker of mischief dances in his eyes. He trails his fingers down your stomach. His fingers lingers just above the waistband of your bikini bottom.

He traces the elastic with a fingertip, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You gasp softly, instinctively arching your back, wanting more of his touch.

"So soft," he murmurs, his voice a low. He presses a kiss to your collarbone, his hands still hovering just above the edge of your bikini. "But I want to see more."

Your breath hitches as he slowly, deliberately, hooks his fingers under the side of your bottoms. He pauses, his eyes meeting yours, gauging your reaction. You don't resist, your body screaming for him to continue.

With a slow, deliberate slide, he pulls the fabric to the side, exposing a bit of skin. The sudden rush of cool air against you makes you gasp. He repeats the action on the other side.

He inhales sharply, his gaze darkening. "God, you're so beautiful," he whispers. He leans in, his lips finding the sensitive skin of the inside of your thigh. You moan softly, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

He nibbles and kisses his way closer, closer to where you need him the most. He pauses again, his breath warm against your skin.

"Do you like this, baby?" he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

"Jeno..." you breathe, his name a plea and approval all in one.

That's all the permission he needs. He wastes no time. Your breath hitches as he nears the exposed skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you through the damp fabric of your bikini.

He lowers himself slightly in the water, bracing himself against the side of the pool, giving him better access. His hands grip your hips, holding you firmly in place as he presses soft kisses to your inner thighs, teasing the sensitive skin there.

You gasp, grabbing his shoulders, your knuckles white. He knows exactly what he's doing, driving you wild with his slow, deliberate licks.

Then, with a groan that rumbles in his chest, he begins to eat you out.

His tongue is fast, tracing patterns across your clit, teasing. He sucks gently, then harder. You arch your back, pressing yourself against his mouth, begging for more.

The sensations are overwhelming, a wave of pleasure that overtakes everything else. You whimper, your body trembling as you linger on the edge of your climax.

He knows you're close, and he increases the pressure, his tongue teasing you relentlessly. You cry out, your body trembling as you break apart. Waves of pleasure wash over you, each one more intense than the last.

He continues to lick and suck, milking every last drop of pleasure from you, until you're a shaking mess, clinging to him for support. Finally, when you can't take anymore, he pulls back, a satisfied smile on his face, but doesn't stop.

Instead, he traces the outline of your lips with his fingertip, gathering the remaining wetness. He brings the fingertip to his lips, savoring the taste of you, his eyes never leaving yours. As he does this, you notice his hips begin to subtly grind against the smooth tile of the pool wall in front of him.

He licks up every last drop, his tongue softly rubbing against your sensitive skin, ensuring nothing is wasted. He makes a slow, deliberate show of it, stretching the moment. The steady grind of his hips against the pool wall grows stronger, becoming almost frantic.

Then, the unexpected happens.

He leans back slightly, gathering a mouthful of spit. Your eyes widen in surprise. You can feel the vibrations from his body as he continues to grind against the pool wall, low groans slipping out of his lips. Before you can react, he spits, the glistening blob of saliva landing directly on your clit, mixing with the remaining traces of your orgasm.

A gasp escapes your lips, the sensation both shocking and hot. He watches your reaction intently, his expression unreadable, a slight shine of sweat now visible on his forehead. The grinding motion against the pool wall becomes more urgent, more desperate. Then, slowly, deliberately, he uses his thumb to rub the saliva into your already sensitive spot.

Your muscles clench automatically as he grinds the spit against your clit. You whimper, your head falling back. He gently but firmly cups your face with his other hand, turning your head back to meet his piercing gaze.

He doesn't break eye contact as he gathers another mouthful of saliva. "Open your mouth," he commands his voice, almost a growl.

Hesitantly, you obey, parting your lips slightly. He doesn't waste a second. He spits directly into your mouth, the warm liquid pooling on your tongue. You instinctively want to gag, but his intense gaze holds you still.

"Swallow," he orders, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Without even thinking, you force yourself to swallow, the taste of his spit and your cum mixed was strangely arousing.

As soon as you've swallowed, he moves forward, capturing your mouth in a deep kiss. He kisses you hard, possessively. The taste of his saliva lingers, mingling with yours.

He finally breaks the kiss, his breath ragged against your lips. He cups your face again, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones.

"Good girl," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "You're such a good girl."

He kisses you again, a softer, more tender kiss this time as if to reward your obedience.

You find yourself craving him, longing for more of him. The grinding of his hips against the pool wall becomes almost unbearable, a taunting reminder of what you want, what you desperately need.

Tears prick at your eyes, a mixture of arousal and frustration. You can't hold back any longer. The words spill out in a plea.

"Please, Jeno," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Please, I want you. I need you. Please, I need your cock."

The words hang in the air between you. You watch his face intensely, searching for any sign of his reaction. The grinding against the pool wall stopped abruptly.

His expression remains unreadable for a moment, a flicker of something intense in his eyes. Then, a slow, predatory smile spreads across his face. He seems to enjoy your desperation and how ready you are to beg.

He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Beg for it," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Beg for it properly, y/n."

Swallowing your pride, you let your head fall back, exposing your throat. "Please, Jeno," you repeat, your voice now laced with desperation. "Please, I'm begging you. I want your dick inside me. I need it. Please, please, please."

Jeno’s eyes darken, and his grip on your face tightens slightly. He runs his thumbs along your jawline. He pauses for a moment, letting the tension build, savoring the power he holds over you.

Then, with a sudden surge of strength, he lifts you slightly, hooking an arm under your thighs and pulling you closer against him. The coolness of the pool water swirls around your lower body as you rise, goosebumps spread over your body. The cold water contrasts with the growing heat between your legs.

As he lifts you, you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, clinging to him for support. The movement brings your bodies even closer, and you can feel the subtle shift in the water around your pelvis. He positions you deliberately, maneuvering you until his hard cock, now submerged and slick with pool water, is pressed directly against your soaked bikini.

A gasp escapes your lips, as he grinds against you slowly, deliberately. The cool caress of the pool combined with the friction sends a wave of pleasure to your core. You can feel the heat of his skin, the hardness of his muscle, the throbbing hardness of his cock.

He continues to tease you and himself as he presses against you, moving back slightly, then pressing again. Each time, the feeling grows stronger, increasing the pressure and driving you crazy.

The water sloshes and swirls around your most sensitive areas, increasing the pleasure, while also increasing the torment of him not being in you. Clenching on nothing but water.

He pauses again, holding you suspended in place, his hard cock still pressed against your entrance, both of you submerged to just above your hips.

"Almost," he murmurs, his voice a teasing whisper. "Almost there, good girl. Just a little more begging for teasing me earlier..."

"I'm sorry," you whine, the words barely audible above the gentle lapping of the water against the pool's edge. "I'm so sorry, Jeno. I didn't mean to tease you. Please, forgive me."

"That's a start," he says, his voice still a low growl. "But it's not enough. Tell me what you want. Tell me how much you need me after teasing me like that."

Your breath hitches in your throat. You can feel the blush rising in your cheeks. "I… I want you inside me, Jeno," you stutter. "I need you inside me so badly. I need to feel you filling me up. I need you to make me feel so good."

You can feel his grip tighten slightly, a sign that you're finally getting through to him. He shifts again, a subtle movement that sends a fresh wave of shivers through you. His cock, still slick with water, presses even harder against your soaked bikini bottom, the head of it teasing against your swollen clit.

"Make you feel good, hm?" he murmurs, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. "And how should I do that, princess?"

"However you want," you whisper, your voice trembling. "However you want, Jeno. Just… please. Just fuck me."

A moment of silence hangs between you, broken only by the sound of your heavy breathing and the gentle splashing of the water. Then, finally, you feel him shift again. He slides his hands down to grip your thighs, lifting you slightly higher, and positioning you perfectly.

"Alright, baby," he says, his voice now a low, husky growl. "You asked for it."

And with that, he pushes forward, the head of his cock finally parting your wet bikini and pressing against your entrance. The sensation is so intense, so overwhelming, that you cry out, a sharp, uncontrollable moan.

He hesitates for a second, giving you a chance to pull back, to change your mind. But you don't. You cling to him tighter, urging him to continue. And then, with a slow, deliberate thrust, he pushes inside you, the feeling of him filling you up completely makes your head spin.

At first, the thrusts are slow and deliberate, each one building on the last as Jeno takes his time to savor the moment. You can feel his cock growing harder, stretching you to your limits, and yet it's not painful.

"You're so tight," Jeno growls, "You feel so good wrapped around me."

You can't respond, not with words. All you can do is cling to him, your body arching upward as he drives deeper into you. The sensations are becoming more intense, more overwhelming, and you're not sure how much longer you can keep this up.

But Jeno seems to sense your limits, and he adjusts his pace accordingly. He begins to move faster, more furiously, his cock pounding into you with a steady intensity that feels like it could swallow you entirely.

You feel yourself tipping on the edge of your orgasm, the water swirling around you. And then, suddenly, you're there. You're climaxing hard while you search for something to grab. Gripping and squeezing his muscular arm that is gripping your waist.

The world around you dissolves, leaving only Jeno's body, his cock, and the sensation of being utterly, completely consumed by him. You cry out, a sound that's lost in the water splashing around, as the orgasm washes over you.

As you come back to yourself, gasping and trembling with pleasure, Jeno slows his pace, his body still buried inside you. You can feel him trembling, too, his muscles straining.

And then, he leans forward, his lips brushing against your ear. "You’re perfect," he whispers. "Perfect for me."

You can't respond, not yet. You're still trying to catch your breath, still trying to process the intensity of what just happened.

The world spins, the aftershocks of your orgasm still running through you. Just as you start to regain a sense of stability, Jeno throws his head back with a raspy groan. You feel the unmistakable pulsing of his orgasm deep within you, a hot, insistent throbbing that sends fresh shivers down your spine.

He clenches his jaw, his body tensing as his own orgasm washes over him. You can feel his muscles contracting around yours, milking every last drop. He's completely lost in the moment, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged.

Finally, the pulsing slows down, leaving him shaking and still buried deep. He rests his forehead against yours, his breathing slowly returning to normal. The silence hangs thick between you.

He pulls back slightly, enough to look you in the eyes. His gaze is intense, searching. He sees the vulnerability there, the lingering shock of the experience, the dawning realization of what just happened.

A blush creeps up his neck, a stark contrast to his earlier dominance. He looks almost…shy.

"I… I didn't mean to…" he stammers, the words stumbling over each other. He breaks eye contact, looking away towards the edge of the pool. He almost looks guilty.

The shift in his demeanor is shocking. No longer the confident, teasing man from moments ago.

"It's okay," you whisper, "It felt… so good."

Jeno's eyes snap back to yours, a look of relief washing over his face.

“I wasn't too mean?”

His question surprises you. "Mean?" you echo, tilting your head slightly. The word seems so out of place considering how hot that was. "No, not mean. Intense, maybe… but not mean."

The relief that floods his face is almost funny. The tension in his shoulders eases and he lets out a small, shaky breath.

"Good," he says softly, his voice gaining a little more confidence. "Good. I didn't want to… I never want to hurt you." He reaches out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

He quickly moves to support you, one arm slipping under your thighs and the other around your hips. With a gentle but firm grip, he begins to lift you out of the pool.

The water rushes past your skin as he pulls you up. As you come out of the pool, he sets you gently on the lounge chair beside it, smoothing the towel over your skin. You shiver at the sensation.

Jeno moves to sit beside you, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for any sign of distress. He seems genuinely concerned if he took it too far, and a warmth spreads through your chest at the sight.

“Let’s get you all cleaned up and then we can watch a movie.”

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[iamnotoriginalphil]

Valentine's Day Surprise (Casey Novak x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Liv organises a blind date for you on Valentine's Day. Casey is less than pleased about it.

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Jealousy, implied smut, hints of possessiveness, hair pulling, swearing

“Valentine’s Day is a bit on the nose, isn’t it?”

Casey glanced up, her heart thudding in her chest. You were standing to the side with Liv, your arms crossed over your chest, lips quirking up into a half smile, almost ironic as you looked at her. You’d thrown your hair up into a messy ponytail, your jeans clinging to the shape of your ass perfectly, the afternoon light softening your expression. You were a thing of beauty, one that stole her breath.

And you weren’t even looking at her.

“It’s the only night she’s free this week,” Liv said, “but if you’re not game…”

“No no, I’ll go. But just know that it’s starting out with some serious judgement,” you said.

“Well that’s an auspicious start,” she said.

You laughed, shaking your head in that way that Casey found so endearing.

“I’m just saying, if this works out, it’ll be some story to tell,” you said.

“If what works out?” Casey couldn’t help herself from asking.

Your eyes met hers and she felt her breath still in her chest. You were still smiling, lips curling up, softening as you looked at her. The half step closer you took towards her made her fingertips tingle.

“Liv has set me up on a blind date,” you said. Her heart stopped, “on Valentine’s Day.”

“That’s a bit intense for a first date, isn’t it?” she faintly heard herself ask.

“That’s what I said,” you laughed.

“If you’re so against it I can cancel on her,” Liv said.

“Oh I’ll go,” you said, turning back to her.

Casey turned away, grateful to not be under your watchful gaze anymore. Her face had frozen in the imitation of a smile, trying not to show how her blood had run cold. You laughed again and her heart squeezed painfully.

She glanced over out of the corner of her eye. You were still laughing, mostly to yourself as you moved on to the reports on your desk. Liv gave her a knowing look. She turned away, burning up from the inside out.

The trouble was, she’d been half in love with you for over a year now and hadn’t made a move. It was manageable when she only heard the disastrous results of your dates, but before, when there was still hope in you, when you were looking forward to it, when it was still possible it would go well, she felt something toxic running through her veins. She’d continually told herself it was for the best. You worked together. If you didn’t feel the same or it didn’t work out it would be intolerable.

The way she was feeling now was intolerable.

“Get me something I can use,” she said after listening to Stabler’s excuses.

You bumped your shoulder against her as she passed by you, grinning up at her. Her heart tripped over itself, your warmth blooming over her. She swept out of the precinct, doing her best not to focus on the tumult of emotions you’d awoken in her.

It ate away at her. For days she stewed over the image of you on a date with a faceless woman. The way you’d reach out to her, flirting over drinks, kissing her when you decided she was worth bringing home. The way you would look as someone else lowered themselves between your legs. The burn of not being the one you were with.

She stayed late at work that day. It wasn’t as if she was the one with a hot date on Valentine’s Day. Sinking into work should have helped her forget about whatever it was you were getting up to. It should have chased away the images of you all dressed up and glowing under the attention of another woman. She shouldn’t have dwelled on exactly what you were getting up to in the company of your date.

She slammed her file closed, not able to stop thinking about it. She was failing at ignoring you and was failing at working. All she could focus on was the way you would smile at your date as you led her into your apartment, the slow seduction of peeling off your clothes, the way you’d touch her in your bed.

Just sitting there thinking about it, she could feel her blood boiling beneath her skin.

She shoved her files into her bag, collecting up anything she thought she might need over the weekend. Slamming the door behind her, she strode down onto the darkened street, raising her hand to hail a cab. There was only one way she was going to stop the feeling in her stomach churning until she felt like she would explode.

Your door stared back at her. She’d had the entire cab ride to calm down. It hadn’t worked.

Days of stewing in the image of you with someone else, someone claiming you, you wanting someone who wasn’t her. She was done. She wanted it to be her hands on you, her lips on yours, her body in your bed.

She wanted you.

Hammering her fist against your door, she knew the likelihood of you being in was low. You could still be on your date, or at her place. But on the off chance you were in there with her, this unknown woman who had finagled a date with you on Valentine’s Day in a childish attempt to seduce you, she was going to stop it before it got too far. She wasn’t going to let anyone else have you.

She almost fell forward when you pulled the door open, not truly believing you would be inside. You laughed, catching her around your elbows to keep her upright.

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” you said.

“You’re home.”

Your lips kept ticking up into a wider smile.

“And lucky I was or else you would have bashed my door down,” you said, “what’s up?”

“I…”

She’d been so fired up on the way over that to be presented with you at home was something she hadn’t expected. You weren’t even dressed up in your date clothes. Your sweats and tank top suggested being curled up on the couch with ice cream, not getting hot and heavy with some unseen woman. Without your date, there was no reason for her to be there. She wasn’t interrupting anything.

“How about we start with if you’re here for work or pleasure?” you asked when no proper answer was forthcoming.

“Aren’t you meant to be on a date right now?” she managed to ask.

“Careful, counsellor. You keep on like this and I’ll start to think you wish I hadn’t been here to meet you,” you said, “come on. No point standing in the hall.”

With the hands still holding onto her, you tugged her into your apartment. The door shutting felt like a gunshot, loud to her ears, even as your touch burned through her. It looked as if she’d been right. A tub of ice cream sat abandoned on your coffee table, your tv paused on some romcom. You didn’t bother hiding any of it, seemingly unembarrassed for how she’d found you.

“Did you even go on your date?” she asked, taking in the entire scene.

“Sure,” you replied, “but twenty minutes in we both agreed Liv was way off the money.”

“Liv?” she asked, turning to look at you. This felt more familiar. Gathering the facts to build a case was her bread and butter.

“She set up the date. Didn’t you know that? Some friend from one of the local papers. But she must have been on something when she came up with that idea because there was no chemistry and we certainly had nothing in common,” you replied.

“You weren’t attracted to her?” she asked.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. She was gorgeous. Just not my type.” You shrugged.

“Oh?” Her heart did something funny in her chest, “what is?”

“Someone smart. Someone with a strong sense of justice. Someone passionate,” you said, “someone who makes me smile.”

Her stomach swooped.

“But I doubt you came here to have a fun girly chat about my failed date,” you said.

You were still smiling at her and there was a twinkle in your eye. Her breath caught at the way you were looking at her, with such fondness. She shook her head, looking away.

“Your ice cream is melting,” she said.

You snorted. She watched you bend to snatch it up, the curve of your ass stretching the fabric of your sweats. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, having to tear her eyes away from you. No need to be caught staring.

“Case, c’mon, why are you really here?” you asked once you’d shoved the carton of ice cream back into your freezer.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pushing up your breasts. Her eyes slipped down, tongue dragging along your lower lip as she stared. What she wouldn’t do to get her mouth on those tits.

“Casey.”

Her eyes snapped back up to yours. There was no mistaking the amusement on your face, nor the way your eyes were twinkling as they looked at her. She felt the flush of embarrassment in her cheeks.

“Come on. You can tell me,” you said, “I promise not to make fun of you.”

“Why would you make fun of me?” she asked.

“Dunno. But whatever you came here for it must be pretty serious if you won’t even say it out loud,” you said.

She took a deep breath, turning away from you. Sinking down onto your couch, she finally released the death grip she had on her briefcase, letting it drop to the ground. The cushions beside her dipped, your body closer than she would have liked while trying to figure out how to move past this.

She’d had a plan. She’d worked it all out in her head on the way over. She should have expected you to send it all to hell the moment you’d opened the door.

“I’m guessing you showing up at my door like this means you didn’t have your own hot date,” you said, your shoulder nudging hers.

She turned her head towards you. You were close enough that her nose brushed yours, breath ghosting over her lips. She couldn’t help her eyes dipping down to your lips. They were so pretty, just begging to be kissed. The thought of someone else claiming them that night had driven her here.

The fire of her anger might have been doused, but the fire of her desire had only flared higher.

She surged forward, lips pressing to yours.Your hands cupped her cheeks, drawing her closer. She might have been all fire, but you were soft, like the petal of a flower, kissing her thoroughly. Any control she’d had slipped away under your touch.

When you lifted yourself, depositing yourself in her lap, straddling her, all she could do was groan. Her hands found your hips, gripping tightly, chin tipped up, so close to begging for more. Your tongue tasted of sugar, strawberry ice cream lingering despite the heat between you. She moaned, clutching you tighter.

Your fingers slipped into her hair, tugging on it in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. Her fingertips dipped below the waistband of your sweats, feeling your soft skin beneath her touch. You moaned into her mouth, hips rocking forward, fingers tightening in her hair. There was something irresistible about you being a moaning mess in her lap.

“Case,” you mumbled against her mouth, “fuck, Casey.”

“Shhh, baby,” she murmured, kissing you again.

You let her, melting against her. You made such a pretty noise, a small whimper crossed with a whine. She let her hands push further into your sweats, grasping your ass over your panties, groaning when she felt the lace against her skin. Your teeth sunk into her lower lip, tugging on it before you pulled back.

Your lips were kiss swollen, eyes blown wide, chest heaving for breath. You were a picture of wanton desire, a painting that should be hung on the wall of the Louvre. Except Casey didn’t want anyone seeing you like this except her.

“Gonna tell me why you were trying to bash down my door now?” you asked.

“I think you know,” she managed to say, surprised she was still capable of forming sentences.

“I want to hear you say it,” you said, “or maybe I should stay on my side of the couch.”

You went to swing one leg off her. The grip she still had on your ass tugged you back, holding you in place, refusing to let you move. Looking down at her, your lips pulled up into a smirk. You tilted her chin up, your other hand burying itself back in her hair, right at the nape of her neck, pulling deliciously.

“Tell me,” you said, a good natured command.

“I don’t like the thought of someone else touching you like this.” She squeezed the globes of your ass.

“You were jealous,” you said.

“I was jealous,” she repeated, jaw clenching.

“And your plan when you showed up here was what exactly?” you asked.

“I was going to interrupt before she could fuck you,” she growled.

“What if we had gone back to her place?” you asked.

“I don’t know.”

You lent forward, breath ghosting over her lips, but your hold kept her from surging up to claim your lips in another bruising kiss.

“And how were you going to convince me to kick a gorgeous woman out of my bed?” you asked.

She growled again, not liking your line of questioning. She certainly didn’t like the images they left in her head.

“By offering you a replacement of higher value,” she replied.

“You have a high opinion of yourself, don’t you?” you chuckled.

“I don’t hear you complaining.”

Using the hands on your ass, she dragged you closer, able to feel the heat emanating from you.

“In fact, you seem pretty fucking pleased right now,” she said.

You lent forward, your nose running along her jaw. She let her head fall to the side, offering herself to you. Even as she argued, she knew you had the upper hand.

“I’m just glad you finally made a move.” Your lips brushed her skin, “took you long enough.”

“What do you mean?”

Any arguments she might have had were scattered to the wind as you kissed a long line to her ear.

“I’ve been dropping hints for months. Did you not notice?” you asked before your teeth closed over her earlobe.

“Why didn’t you make a move then?” she managed to get out despite the moan.

“And miss the chance to see you get all jealous? No chance,” you said, drawing back, “it’s very sexy.”

Your teeth sunk into your own lower lip as you gazed down at her. She could see the smile threatening to break over your face and even as your amusement was at her expense, she found you breathtaking. Her hands slipped from under your sweats, curling around your waist to hold you close.

“I wish you’d told me before,” she said, “we could have been doing this for months.”

“We’re here now,” you said, forehead falling forward against hers.

“But we could be moving to your bed,” she said.

“Oh no. It’s Valentine’s Day and you kept me waiting. You’re going to romance me before I give up the goods,” you said.

“I have to woo you?” she asked.

“You’re the one who came here all self righteous, hoping to do the whole big confession thing,” you laughed.

You clambered off her lap, despite her protests, settling beside her. Resting your head on her shoulder, you curled up against her, reaching for the remote you’d left abandoned when you’d answered the door. She sighed, curling her arm around your waist, keeping you close.

“Alright,” she said, “but just know I was prepared to leave you very satisfied tonight.”

“We have plenty of time for that,” you said.

But when your hand slipped to her inner thigh as you watched the movie, she knew you’d be giving her everything she wanted that night, and every night after.

[linoxpudding]

Kitchen Chaos - Seo Changbin

*gif credit goes to owner*

summary: cooking date doesn't go as planned, moral of the story? your boyfriend can't multitask, but he can definitely love you right

pairing: seo changbin x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 741 words

a/n: incorporated this request and this request for this fic, enjoy ♡

Masterlist

~°~

Cooking dinner with Changbin sounded like a dream. You had imagined soft background music, playful banter, and maybe even a little flour fight like in movies.

What you hadn't considered was that Changbin had the multitasking ability of a potato.

"Are you sure you can handle chopping the onions and stirring the sauce at the same time?" you ask, watching Changbin grip the knife like he's about to fight for his life.

He scoffs, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie. "Babe, please. I can lift weights twice your size, rap at lightning speed, and make fire beats. I think I can handle—AHHH MY EYES."

You stifle a laugh as Changbin dramatically throws the knife down and rubs his eyes with his sauce-covered fingers.

"BINNIE, NO!!" you exclaim, grabbing his hands before he rubs spicy tomato sauce all over his face.

"I’M BLIND. THIS IS THE END."

"It's literally just onion," you giggle, guiding him toward the sink. "Here, rinse your hands first, pabo."

Changbin lets you take care of him, pouting as you dab his face with a towel. "This is why I lift, not cook."

You roll your eyes affectionately. "Cooking requires multitasking, which you suck at."

"I do NOT suck at multitasking," he grumbles.

"Really?" You smirk. "Then why is the sauce burning?"

"WHAT?!" Changbin yelps, spinning around so fast he nearly knocks over the cutting board. He rushes to the stove, frantically stirring the bubbling sauce. "No, no, no—babe, why didn’t you say anything sooner??"

"I was literally about to," you laugh, leaning against the counter. "I love how you act like it’s my fault."

He sighs, defeated. "Okay, maybe I can’t multitask. But!! I make up for it in other ways."

You tilt your head. "Like?"

Without a word, Changbin steps closer and pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around you. "Like giving the best cuddles," he murmurs against your hair.

You hum contentedly, letting yourself sink into his warmth. "That’s true," you admit. "Cuddling is your one true talent."

"Hey!" he protests, but you feel his chest vibrate with laughter. His hand starts rubbing gentle circles on your back. "Cooking is overrated anyway. Let's just order takeout and cuddle instead."

You laugh. "So you're giving up?"

"Not giving up—strategically retreating."

You roll your eyes, but the way he tightens his arms around you makes your heart melt. "Okay, okay, you don’t have to cook," you said between giggles. "Just be my taste tester."

His eyes lit up immediately. "Wait, so I get to eat without doing any of the work?"

"Yep."

He grabbed a chair and sat down so fast you swore you heard a whoosh of air. "Best. Plan. Ever."

"And you have to feed me."

"Obviously."

"And you have to cuddle me all night."

Changbin smirks, squeezing you tighter. "Babe, I was already planning on it."

---

By some miracle, dinner turned out fine, despite Changbin’s… contributions.

After eating, you both collapsed onto the couch, stomachs full and laughter lingering in the air. Changbin stretched his arms with a content sigh before opening them wide. "C’mere."

You didn’t need to be told twice. Crawling into his embrace, you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat. His arms wrapped around you snugly, like a protective cocoon, and he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You know," you mumbled sleepily, "for someone who’s bad at multitasking, you’re really good at cuddling."

His chest rumbled with laughter. "That’s ‘cause cuddling only requires one skill—holding you close and never letting go."

Your heart melted. "Smooth, Seo Changbin. Very smooth."

Changbin grinned, his arms tightening around you as he tucked you even closer, his body heat instantly wrapping around you like a thick, cozy blanket.

For a few moments, the world outside faded. The only thing that mattered was the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest against yours, the soft hum he let out as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.

You turned your head slightly, just enough for his lips to meet yours in the softest, sweetest kiss. It wasn’t rushed or demanding—just warm, like morning sunlight streaming through the window.

He pulled back barely an inch, his lips still ghosting over yours. "Mmm," he hummed, his voice all soft and lazy. "This is definitely my best skill."

You let out a breathy laugh, nudging your nose against his. "I can’t argue with that."

[deadhands69]

Tomura Shigaraki Proposing

soft!Shigaraki x Reader

1000% tooth rotting fluff Sorry for the boring name, I wasn't sure about posting this one but figured it's Valentine's day. Hope someone else enjoys it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Preface: Canonically, Shigaraki isn’t really the type to care much about getting married. He’s never really thought about it in relation to himself. Plus, you never showed any interest in that so he never had reason to. But. Things happen and for whatever legal reason, you find yourselves in need of a marriage certificate. 

So, it’s decided.

He doesn’t make a big deal of it at first, returning to his game quietly. He continues to think through the evening and something about it feels off. Tomura’s never been set on any particular tradition but he’s not stupid. He knows how people usually do things and he’s adaptable. Even if you are just doing it for a sheet of paper, one of you is supposed to actually ask. Right?

Abruptly, he drops the controller after a match and brings it up. He wants to propose, would you be okay with it? After some reassurance that he doesn’t have to, he tells you that, now that he’s thought through it, he wants to. When you ask what he’s planning on doing he scoffs and says that even he knows that part’s supposed to be a surprise. 

“Pick a game,” he says, tossing an N64 controller in your direction. You push the Pokemon Snap cartridge into the console, still not looking reassured by whatever Tomura would consider a surprise.

“It’ll be cute,” he comforts you, “don’t worry.”

“As cute as a pikachu?” you ask as one jumps across the screen.

“I'll try,” he says quietly while subtly smirking.

Over the next week, Tomura is quick to rush to the door whenever a package shows up, being sure to grab them before you have a chance to look. It’s a bit odd, but not completely abnormal. He did the same thing a few months ago when he was excited for a special edition action figure he ordered so you don’t think much of it.

Your sleeping schedule has been fucked since you started spending time with Tomura so you’re never entirely sure what time it is when you wake up. Based on the light peeking through the blinds, you’d guess early afternoon. Typically, he’ll sleep later than you so it comes as quite the surprise when you roll over and throw your arm around an empty blanket.

Almost empty. 

A pokeball shaped envelope filled to the brim lays on his pillow. When you open it, you find a stack of energy cards and a small note in Tomura’s messy handwriting:

they’re in order, you know where to find them.

❤︎ Tomura

ps: you can always see the next one from where you’re standing 

A fire card lays on the top of the deck. You sit up, trying to wipe the sleep from your eyes as you glance around the space trying to figure out what he means. Something glints from the corner, above the heater. Pressing out of bed, you walk across the room to find a charmander card. Cute.

The next energy card is water. You search your room again to no avail. Standing in the same spot you found the charmander, you realize can see the bathroom through the cracked door. There’s a gyarados card in the shower. 

This continues for a while as you pull cards from the envelope.

Rayquaza on top of a mountain painting.

Joltik by a lamp.

Bulbasaur in a houseplant.

Leafeon in another houseplant.

Articuno stuck to the freezer by a magnet.

Squirtle in the kitchen sink.

Finally, you find a cute pair of pikachu house slippers hidden in the cords behind the tv. You put them on, pulling out a dark card next.

In the kitchen, you see a post-it stuck to the cabinet. 

Night ❨

When you open the door, an umbreon plushie falls out. With the prizes getting bigger, you must be getting close to the end. Looking back in the envelope, there’s only one card left: you pull out a lone purple psychic energy.

“Hmmm,” you mumble to yourself while trying to think of where else you could find a pokemon in your one bedroom apartment. You look out the window to the park across from your building as you think. 

Then it hits you.

The next one isn't in the apartment.

You have to go to the (tall) grass outside. Swapping your cute new slippers for some sneakers, you throw on a jacket and make the trek to the park. It’s freezing but you barely notice the chill in the excitement as you rush across the street. 

Turning onto the path into the park, you begin looking for…you aren’t sure yet, but you’ll know it when you find it. 

After a short walk through the trees, the faux forested area opens up into a grassy patch still covered in frost. On a bench near the edge of the grass sits Tomura in a mimikyu onesie, strands of his white hair poking out from under the hood. It suits him. Even his red shoes with black laces match the outfit perfectly. Seeing you, he stands and walks over. You make a mental note that this is the happiest you’ve ever seen him.

“I know you wanted a pikachu, but this seemed more fitting.” 

“It is,” you giggle, running your hands over the soft fabric. “You look cute.”

He smiles bashfully. He’s practiced this at least a hundred times before today and he knows you’ll say yes, you already did. That doesn’t stop the butterflies in his stomach now that it’s actually happening.

“Uhm,” he drops to one knee. As he looks up at you, the oversized hood falls over his face. He moves it back slightly, along with his messy hair and his crimson eyes find yours. 

“[y/n].”

“Yes, Tomura?”

“Will you marry me?”

“Of course,” you exclaim, pulling him to his feet and smashing your lips into his. His cold nose presses into your cheek as he kisses you back. 

While the decision had already been made for practical purposes, you’re surprised at how excited you feel. Honestly, you didn’t expect him to make so much of an effort either. 

“Can we go home now,” he grumbles against your lips, “it’s cold out here.”

“Yeah, let’s go!” You grab his hand, tangling your pinkies together as the two of you make your way back to the path. 

As you walk the short distance back to your apartment, you think of how nice it will be to spend the rest of your life with him. Starting with this evening: cuddling your mimikyu on the couch with a hot cup of tea.

bnha masterlist

taglist: @shigarakislaughter

[cosmerelists]

Randomly Assembled Cosmere Roommates: How Will They Fare?

[Note: This post contains major WAT spoilers!]

@truthwatcherblog created a poll (which should still be going on, if I've gotten my dates right?) wherein you spin a picker wheel to randomly assign yourself three Stormlight roommates. With OP's permission, I'm going to use their picker wheel not to give myself roommates, but to create trios of Stormlight characters who now must room together. Let's see how it goes!

[I faithfully adhered to the picker wheel except for skipping repeats. Lin Davar came up THREE times!]

1. Lopen, the Nightwatcher, Cord

The Nightwatcher would stay holed up in her room all day, leaving mostly just Lopen & Cord, who did travel together during Dawnshard...a story in which we learned that Lopen has a huge crush on Cord. Hopefully they'd sort that out pretty quick so that it doesn't turn into a Wayne/Ranette situation. 

Cord: And this is my girlfriend, Rysn. Lopen: Well okay, but I'm not gonna stop trying to impress you with my jokes and manly ways! Cord: ...To try to win me over? Lopen: No, I mostly just like making people laugh and and I like being complimented. For my manly ways. Cord: I can live with that. Nightwatcher: [Through the closed door and the ten million blankets that she shrouds herself in] Can someone please bring me ice cream? 

2. Moash, Lin Davar [Shallan's dad], Syl

[sing-song voice] Someone is getting muuuurdered!

Lin: Are you stupid as well as blind, dark-eyes? I SAID to pour me wine! Moash: [already drawing his sword] Syl: In this house, we stan some extrajudicial killings. 

3. Lezian, Masha-daughter-Shaliv [Szeth's wife], Maya

This household is never at peace.

Lezian: I CAN'T do the dishes, I'm busy STALKING and KILLING people! Maya: [arms folded] A good soldier doesn't shy away from unglamorous work. Maya: You can be a "killing slut" later. Lezian: STOP CALLING ME THAT Masha (busy writing): Hey guys, what's a synonym for "bald"?

4. Skar, Rock, Kmakl [Queen Fen's husband]

It all works out great once they set some boundaries.

Skar: No more sex with your wife in the living room without warning us first. Kmarkl: Fiiiiine. Skar: We all love your stew, Rock, but sometimes other people want to use the big pot, too. Rock: Fair enough, fair enough! Rock: And you, Skar, need to stop throwing our stuff out the window just because we leave them lying around! Kmarkl: I couldn't find my lucky socks for two weeks! Skar: ... Skar: Wow, living together really is about compromise. 

5. Roshone, Huio, Taravangian

Mostly, I feel sorry for Huio.

Roshone: Can't believe my wife kicked me out. Can't belive I have to have roommates. Taravangian: Nobody go into the basement, okay? I'm using it to store my...stuff. Roshone: Why does your "stuff" require so much sound-proofing, anyway? Taravangian: It's, uh, a playroom for my...noisy grandchildren? Roshone: Sure, that feels right. Huio: [in the kitchen making soup] Huio: (muttering to himself in Herdazian): I'm NEVER telling them I can understand Alethi. 

6. Szeth, Rlain, Drehy

This is going to be SO good for Szeth's mental health! Drehy's gonna be working overtime helping both of his roommates, though.

Rlain: So, uh... Drehy: Yes, you may ask me all of your "gay" questions. Rlain: I really appreciate that! Szeth: Kaladin says that I must "ask other people" if I have a thought that "does not quite seem right." Szeth: I pose this to you both: if you burn a dinner you were really looking forward to, is death the answer? Rlain: No! Drehy: I'll order pizza.

7. Gezamal [Yanagawn's guard], Ishnah [Lightweaver], Testament [dead-eyed cryptic]

Testament is really the glue that holds this household together.

Gezamal: Ishnah, let's have dinner together tonight and talk. Ishnah: What, why? Gezamal: Testament and I share a bond since she is a dead-eye and I am Unoathed. Testament: [gives thumbs-up] Gezamal: You and Testament share a bond because you are a Ligthweaver and she is a Cryptic. Testament: [gives thumbs-up] Gezamal: For household solidarity, you and I should now figure out what we have in common. Ishnah: ...What's that big book you have? Gezamal: I pre-drafted a list of things we might have in common. Gezamal: For example, as a member of the Unseen Court, were you ever punished with lavatory duty? That happened to me once. Ishnah: Oh, this conversation is gonna be rough.

8. Elid [Szeth's sister], Kalak [herald], Wyndle

Kalak, scared as he is of humans, much prefers one of his two roommates...

Wyndle: Oh, I'm so glad you like this! "How It's Made" is one of my FAVORITE shows, but the  mistress says it's "boring." Kalak: It's great! I've never felt so calm! Elid: Yo, what are we watching? Kalak: Eep! Elid: ... Elid: The Almighty Herald is hiding behind a cushion again, huh? Wyndle: I-I'm sure he doesn't mean to offend you!

9. Wit, Aladar [highprince], Renarin

It's like Christmas came early for Wit--he likes to make fun of both of them!

Wit: [eyes glinting] Aladar: W-We should make an alliance now, Renarin! Aladar: Together we can stand up even to this man! Renarin: Oh,  uh... Renarin: I actually already made an alliance with Wit this morning, when he asked. Aladar: NOOOOO

10. Abidi the Monarch, the Thrill, Tanavast

Okay, I'm sure your mind went immediately to "sheer destruction," but what if...?

Tanavast: Abidi! It's YOUR turn to walk the Thrill! The Thrill: [bouncing excitedly at the word "walk"] Abidi: Not now, you fool! There are people being wrong on the internet, and I must bathe in their blood! [sitcom laugh track] Abidi: And I keep telling you to call me Abidi the Monarch! Tanavast (muttering): More like Abidi the Moron. The Thrill: Arf! Arft! [sitcom laugh track] [Theme song starts playing, revealing the sitcom title: 3 Old Gods]

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || Ch. 32]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3k🌶️

ao3 link

The billboard across the street shifts from casting a blue glow into Matt’s apartment to a warm purple one. It is bright enough for you to be able to see your keyboard, but low enough that everything is still in shadow. You can maneuver around easily enough, which makes it the perfect level considering you are apparently the only one in your family who needs light to do so. 

Paired with the overall lack of decor, it fosters a nice working environment, with the ambience of the city providing the perfect background noise. 

You have a fair bit of invoicing to catch up on, so you have set yourself up at the dining table as Matt readies himself for his own night of working. Luckily, all the excitement of temporarily moving into a new place left your little Mouse exhausted and getting her down to sleep was as easy as it has ever been. You wish you would be able to go off to Dreamland as quickly as she does, but you know your brain won’t let you drift off without hours and hours of worrying first.

“You don’t need to wait up for me,” Matt says for about the millionth time. He’s changed mostly into his red Devil suit, and it still baffles you how different he looks in it versus his Lawyer suit. It is like he’s been possessed or switched out with a twin - it’s not necessarily evil but it is a completely different aura. All his fun and charm has been replaced with a caged animal ready to rip someone’s throat out, and you just happen to be his keeper who he knows isn’t a threat. He’s of no danger to you, but anyone outside these walls is fair game. 

“I have about forty emails to answer and even more orders to review and this is the only time I’ll be able to sit down and focus on doing all that. These are my working hours, too,” you reply as you finish connecting your VPN. “Plus, I’ll be up worrying until you are home safe. Killing two birds with one stone.” 

“No killing anything,” he chides, his voice dropping an octave. It sends a pleasant shiver up your spine, and you are starting to think you may like this Devil-y side of Matt. 

“You know I can’t even kill a cockroach.” 

He huffs from across the room, then in a few long strides, he’s behind you, putting his large, gloved hands on your shoulders and rubbing at them, “I mean it. If you finish before I’m back, try to get some sleep. You need it.” 

You let your head fall forward and enjoy the way his thumbs dig into your muscles. “I need to make sure I get my work hours logged. When you get home, we can both get some sleep.” 

Behind you, a pleased rumble comes from Matt’s chest. He bends forward and nuzzles just above your ear, whispering in that deep voice that makes your core clench, “call it ‘home’ again.” 

Your eyes flutter shut as your entire being heats up again. It isn’t just his voice and actions - it's the implication of his request - that he wants a home with you. He wants your home to be here with him. You can’t even take a moment to think about it, because you just want to please the Devil behind you. 

“Come home to us.” 

He buries his nose into your hair and inhales deeply while his hands tighten on your shoulders. He nods after a moment, then you feel him have to force himself to step away. 

“I’ll always come home to you. I swear on my life.” 

You resist the urge to follow after him and say something cheesy or dramatic. You stay planted in your seat instead, eyes still closed and breathing through your nose, trying to calm your fast beating heart. 

Matt strides back to where his gloves and helmet wait for him, and you listen as he dons the last pieces of his armor. Only when he has fully become the Devil do you let yourself speak again, hoping to encourage the beast coming to life inside of him.

“Keep the Kitchen safe. For me. For Minnie.” 

----

It’s closing in on three am when you hear the crunch of boots on gravel coming from the roof above you. You expected Matt to be home closer to one in the morning, but that was just a time you made up. 

Your emails are still on your screen, so you close them out and clock out just as the door on the landing opens and the Devil returns to the apartment. There is a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and you scrunch up your nose in confusion as he makes his way down the stairs.

“I thought you would be asleep by now,” he growls out and you can instantly tell the poor man is exhausted. 

You are up and out of your seat in an instant, making your way to him with your water bottle in hand. You hold it out to him as he comes to a stop in front of you and he quickly drops the bag to his feet in exchange for chugging the rest of your water.

“I told you I had a lot of work. Are you okay? What is with the - “You cut yourself off as the light coming from the billboard changes from red to yellow and you see there is a slice of suit missing from Matt’s arm. “You’re hurt!”

You don’t give him the chance to deny or explain - you turn and hurry back to the kitchen to get the first aid kit. 

“I’m fine,” he grumbles from behind you. You hear something thunk on the ground and assume it is his helmet. “It went through and through.” 

The words take a second to process and color drains from your face as they do. “You were shot?” 

“I’m fine,” he insists, a small hint of annoyance in his voice. “I just need to wrap it.”

You yoink the first aid kit down from where it’s hidden in a cabinet and whirl back around the face Matt. He’s removed his helmet and gloves and is in the process of taking off his boots. Your mind swirls into overdrive, flying back to your binder pages about gunshot wounds and you find yourself huffing at the Devil as practicality fills you. 

“Wrap it?” You almost scold as you march back to him. His head jerks up and his brows furrow, but your Mom Mentality is quicker than the Devil. “You can’t just wrap it; it needs to be cleaned and disinfected. Who knows what is dripping off your suit into it. You can’t punch away an infection, Matt.” 

His face slackens into confusion as you move to squat in front of him so you can open the kit and begin to rummage through it. 

“What..?”

“I need to clean it,” you repeat as you inspect the meager contents of the kit. “And disinfect it. I’m not very good at stitches yet, but you have butterfly stripes,” you hold up the pack as you find it and continue your rambling, “and gauze, so we can wrap it, and hopefully that should be good enough. Do you know what caliber it was? Was it a hollow point?”

He doesn’t answer you right away, and you assume he is trying to remember what happened. You focus on reading the different packets you pick up, setting aside wipes and antibiotic ointments. If it was through and through, you shouldn’t have to get out any debris, but you add the tweezers to your pile anyway. Your mind is a step-by-step checklist of everything you need and you really hope all your studying has prepared you for your first real wound cleaning. You are a pro at scraped knees and paper cuts, but a bullet wound is a completely different level. 

“What?” Matt repeats and you look up to see he looks completely dumbfounded. “You…aren’t angry?”

It is your turn to be confused. 

“Why…would I be angry?” you ask slowly, trying to understand why he is asking. “You..didn’t mean to get shot, did you?” He shakes his head slowly, and your lips turn down into a frown. “Then..I’m not angry.” 

You slowly sit yourself down and cross your legs, trying to process your own feelings around your Fix It and Make Things Better thoughts, “I’m scared that you got hurt. And I’m worried..I worry about you every night when you go out, but this…this is small, right? It’s through and through and in your arm and you aren’t bleeding everywhere, and you are standing on your own. You’re…you’re okay. You’re hurt. You’re hurt. But you’re okay…you’re okay and I just need to make sure you stay okay.” Tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes, and you shake your head to chase them away. “Please let me make sure you are okay.”

Slowly, Matt kneels in front of you and takes your face in his hands. He thumbs away a tear that managed to escape before leaning in to press his forehead to yours. 

“I’m okay,” he whispers, the Devil gone from his voice, and he sounds so so tired. “I’m okay, my darling. Let me get out of this and you can clean it, yeah? Then we can go to bed.” 

You press into his touch, needing it to ground you and help you keep your emotions in check. 

Matt’s hurt, but he is okay. It’s just a little wound, something you can handle. You know he is going to get hurt, going out and acting as a vigilante, and it isn’t always going to be bruises and split knuckles. 

People shoot at him. They try to stab him. They might have weird fire breath or laser beams. 

He’s going to get hurt, but right now he is okay. He just needs to be patched up and that is something you can do. 

You’ve been practicing and studying to make sure he will stay okay. 

You take a shaky breath and center yourself, then let your lips turn up into a small smile, “You’re all sweaty, you need a shower before bed. Or Minnie will complain that you are stinky in the morning.”

Matt huffs a small laugh and tips his head up to kiss your forehead. “Well, according to her my whole apartment is stinky and dusty and cold.”

“That’s why we are playing housekeeper tomorrow,” you whisper as he pulls away. 

You allow yourself to wipe your eyes with your nightshirt as Matt removes the rest of his armor, leaving him in just his boxers. You then focus on double checking all the items you’ve gathered, letting your mind go back into Practical mode versus Emotional. 

“Why do you have a duffel bag?” you finally ask, curious as to what he had been up to all night and why he has a new accessory. 

Matt gives a quiet groan, then begins to explain as he sits himself in front of you. “I found an abandoned…lab is the only way I can put it, in one of the utility tunnels. I guess it got flooded out with all the rain and whoever was running it was clearing it out. When I got there, there was only one guy.” As he talks, you begin to clean his wounds, and you are not surprised at how stoic he remains despite the stinging of antiseptics. “I think he was just grabbing files, and that is what is in the bag. Paper files and what I think are thumb drives. I’m not too sure.”

You look up in time to see him turn his lips down into a hard scowl. “The whole place reeked of human blood, though. Not fresh - stale. And there were cages. It was just a few rooms, but someone was definitely up to no good down there.” He flexes his fingers, then says your name softly. “I think it was some sort of government agency. The gun the guy had was standard issue for the FBI and the way he moved was in line with their training, but it didn’t feel like the FBI. It felt more advanced and after everything with Fisk I don’t think they’d try something twice here so close together. But in my gut, it’s telling me this isn’t something like the Hand or something underground.”

You turn to look at the simple bag laying on the floor, your heart sinking as you take it in. You trust Matt’s gut with this - this is not his first rodeo, and he has so much more information about all of this than you ever will. 

“Do you want me to read them for you?”

He shakes his head, “No. Well.. yes, but no. I think this is something I need to take to everyone - Foggy, Karen, Frank, Jessica. Another piece of the puzzle of what has been going on lately. I think we all have different parts, and we need to start looking at what fits together.” He pauses, rolls his lip between his teeth. “I’d like for you to be there, too..if you’d like. I don’t want to keep you in the dark. You aren’t out there, like we are but..I’m dragging you into this just by being with you. I…” 

He stops, and turns to fully face you, pulling his bicep from your grasp so he can cup your jaw with his other hand. He runs his thumb over your lips. 

“I can’t risk losing you. If you being in the know and understanding everything that is going on is what is going to keep you safe - keep Minnie safe - then I can’t lie to you and I can’t hide anything. But I need you to understand that there is a risk of knowing what lurks in the shadows. It is your choice; I want it to be your choice. I need you to be okay, too.” 

You don't need to let the words turn over in your mind - you know your answer. “I want to be there. I want to help, even if it is just helping you talk through things. You don’t need to hide things from me. I…I understand what you are doing.”  You mimic him and reach to cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb so lightly over his lower lip. “I just want you to be safe, Matt. I want you to come home at night.” 

You purposefully use the word, knowing it triggered a reaction before. 

It does again.  

His eyes flutter close, and he kisses your finger gently. 

“I’ll always come back to you,” he breathes out before swallowing thickly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and you wonder if he wants to say more.

Do you want him to say more?

You don’t know.

You don’t know and you don’t want to think about it. 

“Okay,” he whispers as you hand drops, and he turns so you can apply butterfly strips to the holes in his bicep. 

You just want Matt to be safe and right now that means finishing wrapping his bicep. You let your thumb linger on his lip for a moment before pulling away, “I’m almost done with your arm. I..I think it doesn’t need stitches. Everything here should be plenty.” 

You let your mind fall back to your guides as you wrap the gauze, mentally picturing exactly what you need to do while also making mental notes about directions you need to change and products you need to buy to fill out Matt’s first aid kit. While he has apparently been so much better at taking care of himself, his supplies are a bit lacking. 

As you finish, you hesitate before leaning in and placing a small kiss over the entrance wound, mumbling as you do, “Minnie would admonish me if I didn’t add a kissie for extra healing.” 

“She is the Doctor,” Matt replies gently, and you can’t help but smile.

You start to repack the first aid kit as Matt pushes up into standing to gather his own gear. You both clean in a comfortable silence and only once everything is put away, does Matt come back to you. 

“Shower with me?” He asks, his voice soft and low and your whole body quivers for him.

You don’t reply with words. You take his offered hand, and he leads you to the small room. 

The two of you can barely fit in the shower together, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as you are under the water, you are one.

Matt cups your jaw with both hands as he kisses you like he is savoring every microsecond. It is slow and languid, and you melt together so easily. Your hands are in his hair, pulling his closer, like you want to absorb him because maybe you do. Maybe you want him to absorb you, because you are safe in his arms, and nothing will ever hurt you or make you cry if he is there. 

You have Matt Murdock, and you have the Devil and he has you.

You don’t know if it's hours or minutes or days that pass before one callused hand drops to your thigh and with the lightest of touches, urges it up. Once it is around his waist, Matt rocks forward and slides into you with no resistance.

His pumps are as slow as his kisses and you lose yourself in him. If you could think, you would imagine he is lost in you as well, but the only thing on your mind is the pleasure he is bringing you and how perfectly full you feel.

His name is falling from your lips over and over, breathless and needy, but not for a release - just for him and it is like he knows that. His head drops to your shoulder, and he buries his nose into your throat, his lips moving in words barely heard above the spray of the shower.

Your name.

Mine.

Yours.

Perfect. 

Please.

God.

Love. 

((“I love you.”))

((“I love you, too.”))

---

:) <3

---

@two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @astridstark13 @hashcakes

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@Specialagentjackbauer  @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets @buckyssugarchick

@the-devils-angel @savvyreyes4587 @diasnohibng @blobygree18 @givemylovetoall 

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath @roxytheimmortal 

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@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze

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@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore 

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

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@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

[koyagifs]

── 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

pairing: hongjoong x f!reader au: 9th member | best friends to lovers | pre! poly | genre: fluff | slight angst | word count: 2.8k synopsis: how you and hongjoong began your relationship before the others joined. warning(s):

2018

Hongjoong crush started off slow and subtle, something that just crept up on him. You all had just debuted and hongjoong was congratulating everyone but when his eyes landed on yours. He was a goner, and boy did he feel stupid to just now realize it. The way your smile was radiating, even though he can tell you're still trying to recover from just performing. When you caught sight of him, you rush towards him practically beaming with joy it could blind someone.

" joongie oppa we did it! our younger selves would of been so proud," you said, hugging him tightly.

That moment sealed it for him—he was absolutely, irreversibly smitten. The warmth of your embrace, the way you clung to him without hesitation, made his heart stutter in a way that no stage, no song, no moment of his career ever had before.

He chuckled, arms wrapping around you instinctively, holding you just a little tighter than necessary. “Yeah, we really did,” he murmured, his voice softer than he intended. His heart was racing, but he prayed you wouldn’t notice.

As you pulled back, still grinning up at him, he realized he was completely doomed. Because if he wasn’t careful, he was going to fall harder than he ever thought possible.

When you all made it back to your dorm Hongjoong was quick to rush to his shared dorm room with Seonghwa.

Seonghwa blinked at the closed door, then turned to the rest of you with a frown. “Did I do something?”

Everyone just shrugged, too exhausted from the performance to think much of it.

Inside the room, Hongjoong leaned against the door, pressing a hand to his chest as if that would steady his racing heart. He felt ridiculous. How had he not realized it before? How had he gone all this time without noticing the way you made his world just a little bit brighter?

He let out a groan, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m so screwed,” he muttered under his breath.

You didn’t think much of it at first—Hongjoong always threw himself into work, especially after a big milestone like your debut. If anything, it was expected. But as the hours stretched on, you started to notice little things.

Like how he’d leave the room the moment you entered. How his usual teasing remarks were suddenly nonexistent. How he barely even looked your way during meals.

Still, you convinced yourself it was nothing. He was probably just overwhelmed with new ideas. That was Hongjoong, after all.

But what you didn’t know was that behind closed doors, Hongjoong was struggling. Every time he saw you, his heart did that stupid little flutter, and he knew if he didn’t put some distance between you, he was going to slip up.

Hongjoong froze in the doorway, his grip tightening on the doorknob as his stomach twisted. There you were, curled up in Wooyoung’s arms, looking so comfortable, so at ease—like you belonged there.

His heart skipped, then dropped, only to be replaced by something bitter and sharp. Jealousy.

Why Wooyoung? Why not him?

Wooyoung noticed him first, his usual mischievous grin tugging at his lips. “Oh, hey, Cap. Need something?”

You turned your head, eyes meeting Hongjoong’s, and your smile was as bright as ever. “Joongie oppa, come join us!” You patted the empty space on the bed, completely unaware of the storm raging inside him.

He wanted to. God, he wanted to. But instead, he scoffed, forcing a smirk onto his face. “Nah, you two look cozy enough without me.”

Then, before either of you could respond, he turned on his heel and walked out, leaving behind a confused wooyoung and you. You rushed out the bed, stumbling a bit as Wooyoung laughed at you. you could tell hongjoong was upset, he was literally huffing in annoyance when you caught up to him.

“Joongie, wait!” you called, grabbing his wrist before he could escape any further.

Hongjoong came to an abrupt stop, his shoulders tense under your touch. He turned to face you, his expression carefully guarded, but the way his jaw was clenched and his lips were pressed into a thin line told you everything you needed to know—he was upset.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your brows knitting together in concern.

“Nothing,” he said too quickly, his tone clipped.

You narrowed your eyes. “Liar.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just—” He paused, shaking his head. “Forget it, Y/n. Go back to Wooyoung.”

That stung a little. “Why are you saying it like that?” you frowned. “Joong, if something’s bothering you, tell me.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a moment, you swore you saw something flicker in his eyes—something raw, something vulnerable. But just as quickly as it appeared, he masked it with irritation.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered again, gently pulling his wrist from your grasp. “Just… forget it, okay?”

And with that, he turned away, leaving you standing there, more confused than before.

It wouldn't be until you're next comeback that you finally had enough with Hongjoong avoiding you. You had just finished your promotions with ' say my name' getting to finally relax.

" yn where you going?" Seonghwa asked.

You turned around smiling widely as you put your shoes on, " i'm going to get our captain something for us. A little thank you for us!"

Seonghwa raised a brow, crossing his arms. “For Hongjoong?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yeah! He’s been working so hard, and I just… I want to do something nice for him, you know?”

Seonghwa tilted his head slightly, watching you with an unreadable expression. Then, he let out a small chuckle. “You’re really something, Y/n.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

He shook his head, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Nothing. Just… good luck.”

You didn’t think much of it as you grabbed your jacket and headed out. Your mind was already filled with ideas—maybe some of his favorite snacks, a new notebook for lyrics, or even a cute trinket that reminded you of him. Something that would make him smile.

When you made it to hongjoongs studio, he looked at you startled, his headphones flying off as you laughed.

"Yah, Y/n, are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Hongjoong huffed, clutching his chest dramatically as his headphones landed in his lap.

You giggled, stepping further into the room and placing a small bag on his desk. "Sorry, Joongie, but you’ve been avoiding me for months. I had to catch you off guard somehow."

His eyes flickered to the bag, then back to you, his expression carefully guarded. "What’s this?"

"A little thank-you gift for our amazing leader," you said, grinning as you nudged the bag closer to him. "You work so hard for us, and I wanted to show my appreciation."

For a moment, he just stared at it, his fingers hesitantly reaching out before stopping. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "You didn’t have to do that," he muttered, voice softer now.

"I wanted to," you countered, crossing your arms. "You’ve been acting weird around me, and I don’t know why, but I’m tired of pretending I don’t notice."

Hongjoong tensed, his fingers tightening around the edge of his desk. "I haven’t—"

"Yes, you have," you interrupted, stepping closer. "Did I do something? Did I upset you?"

His heart clenched at the concern in your voice. God, you really had no idea, did you? You tilted your head, before grabbing the pocky you bought for yourself. You smiled innocently, placing it in your mouth as you leaned forward.

Hongjoong’s breath hitched. His eyes flickered to the pocky stick between your lips, then back to your innocent, unwavering gaze. His brain short-circuited.

“W-What are you doing?” he stammered, leaning back slightly in his chair.

You grinned playfully. “What does it look like? I’m eating.” You took a small bite, still leaning close, eyes locked on his. “Why? Does it bother you?”

Yes. So much.

Hongjoong clenched his jaw, gripping the armrest of his chair like it was the only thing keeping him together. The way you were looking at him, so unaware of the effect you had on him—it was driving him insane.

You giggled at his reaction before tilting your head again. “Or maybe… you want a bite, too?” You nudged the pocky toward him, your lips mere inches from his now.

He swallowed hard. This was a game. You were playing with him, completely unaware of the war raging inside his chest.

" let's play a game oppa,"

Hongjoong’s breath caught in his throat. His fingers twitched where they rested on his lap, and he swore his heart was about to betray him.

“A game?” he echoed, his voice lower than before. He wasn’t sure if it was curiosity or a warning. Maybe both.

You nodded, mischief dancing in your eyes as you took another bite of the pocky. “A simple one,” you said, your voice light and teasing. “Whoever breaks eye contact first loses.”

His jaw clenched. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

Leaning back slightly, Hongjoong let out a soft chuckle, feigning nonchalance despite the way his pulse pounded in his ears. “That’s it?”

You smirked. “Unless you’re scared.”

His eyes darkened, the challenge in your tone awakening something he’d tried so hard to suppress. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, closing the distance between you again, his lips nearly grazing the end of the pocky stick still in your mouth.

“Alright, Y/n,” he murmured, voice smooth and dripping with something dangerous. “Let’s play.”

Your fingers brushed over his hand, your touch light but deliberate. Hongjoong stiffened for just a moment before his hand instinctively turned, his fingers now lightly curled around yours. The air between you crackled, the game no longer feeling as innocent as it started.

You leaned in further, the last bit of the pocky between you threatening to disappear. His dark eyes bore into yours, unreadable yet intense, like he was waiting—waiting for you to break, to look away, to run like he had been doing for months.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you let a small, knowing smile tug at your lips as you whispered, “What’s wrong, Joongie? You look nervous.”

His grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly. “I should be asking you that,” he murmured, voice dipping into something dangerously low. His gaze flickered to your lips for just a second before locking onto your eyes again.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you looked away.

Until, finally, Hongjoong made his choice.

With one last smirk, he bit down, snapping the pocky in half between you. His lips barely brushed yours before he pulled away, chewing slowly, eyes never leaving yours.

“Looks like I win,” he said, his voice smug yet laced with something deeper, something unspoken.

But you weren’t sure if he had really won—because the way his fingers still lingered on yours, the way his breath was just a little uneven, told you that maybe, just maybe, you had shaken him just as much as he had shaken you.

You giggled, " hmm oppa i have a question," you said teasingly.

Hongjoong’s eyes followed you as you moved, his fingers twitching where they still rested on his desk. He exhaled, trying to compose himself, but the way you casually nibbled on another pocky stick while examining his things had him gripping his knee to keep himself in check.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice almost too steady, as if he were forcing himself to stay unaffected.

You hummed, tilting your head as you picked up a small notebook filled with his lyrics. Flipping through the pages, you grinned before turning back to face him. " how do i tell woo that i have a crush on him?"

Hongjoong froze, his heart sinking at the sudden shift in direction. The playful teasing from before, the tension that had filled the air, all seemed to evaporate in an instant.

You? Having a crush on Wooyoung?

His mind raced, but he didn’t let any of it show—at least not immediately. His gaze flickered to you, watching as you flipped through the pages of his notebook, so casually, so nonchalant.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice tight as he leaned forward, trying to keep his tone light. “You’ve got a crush on Wooyoung?”

You glanced up, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Yeah, why? You think it’s weird?”

Hongjoong shook his head, trying to play it cool despite the storm raging inside him. “No, not weird… just didn’t expect that.” He swallowed hard, fingers tapping against the desk as he thought for a moment. “Well, if you want to tell him… I’d say just be straightforward. Wooyoung’s not the kind of guy who likes games. He’s more about honesty.”

But underneath his words, his mind was screaming, wishing he could tell you how he felt instead of giving you advice about someone else.

You hummed, before you spun hongjoong in his chair, your arms now trapping him in his chair. Hongjoong looked at you shocked, stuttering as you leaned closer to him.

" hm... then what about me oppa?"

Hongjoong’s breath hitched as you spun him around, his eyes wide with surprise. His heart pounded in his chest, every inch of his body suddenly aware of how close you were—closer than he ever imagined, and certainly closer than he had intended to allow.

You leaned in, your arms gently trapping him, and his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again. He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, as if every word he had once prepared was suddenly trapped in his throat.

“What about you, Y/n?” His voice barely came out as a whisper, too shaken to sound confident. He’d spent so long trying to suppress whatever this was, whatever you were, and now here you were, forcing him to confront it head-on.

He didn’t know what to say. Part of him wanted to push you away, run, get out of this situation before he slipped up. But the other part—the part that had been trying to avoid you for months—wanted to reach out, hold you, pull you closer, and confess everything.

What if this wasn’t just a game?

"Tell me, oppa," you whispered, your voice teasing but laced with something else—something more genuine, like you already knew the answer. "Do you like me?"

His pulse raced, the weight of the question hanging in the air between you. He could feel the tension thick enough to cut with a knife, and despite himself, he was close to letting go, close to giving in.

" of course i like you yn, you're a mem-"

" not that kind of like," you mumbled, before you placed your lips on his.

Hongjoong froze, his breath catching as your lips met his. For a moment, everything was still. The world around him seemed to fade, leaving just the feel of you against him—soft, tentative, yet filled with an undeniable heat.

He hadn't expected this. His heart hammered in his chest, his hands instinctively reaching for you, cupping your face as he deepened the kiss, the tension of months of avoidance finally crashing down all at once.

He could feel your warmth, your pulse, your breath mingling with his. The kiss was slow, testing, like you were both unsure but hungry for this moment.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his, breaths heavy. He could see the shimmer of something in your eyes—something honest, something real.

"Y/n," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

" hongjoong ..." you smiled, cupping his face as he looked at you like a lovesick puppy.

Hongjoong's heart thudded in his chest, his eyes softening as he gazed at you. The intensity of everything he'd been holding back was now reflected in the way his gaze lingered on you—gentle, adoring, like you were the only thing that mattered in this moment.

"You're… you're really something," he murmured, his voice thick with affection. He couldn’t help the small, lovesick smile that tugged at his lips.

You laughed softly, the sound light and airy, before you traced the line of his jaw with your fingertips. "I could say the same about you, oppa," you teased, your thumb brushing over his cheek as your smile grew wider.

Hongjoong chuckled, shaking his head slightly, still unable to tear his gaze away from yours. “I don’t think I can keep up with you, Y/n,” he admitted with a half-grin, his thumb gently caressing your hand that rested against his face.

“Then don’t,” you replied, your tone playful yet sincere. “Just let me lead for a change. I think you’ll like it.”

For a moment, Hongjoong simply stared at you, lost in the depth of your gaze. All the walls he had built up around his heart—walls meant to keep him safe, to keep him from falling too hard—felt like they were crumbling away. He didn’t want to fight it anymore. Not with you.

"Okay," he whispered softly, a contented smile spreading across his face. "Okay, Y/n."

And just like that, it was no longer a game.

[tinrange]

Gelboys Thoughts 1

Zoom classes wow my eye just started twitching.

Blocking on spotify as the first move what 17 yr old was involved in the writing team ctfu.

07s in 10th grade... okay so that places the timeline of show uncomfortably close to my own graduation so this might make me spiral.

This ITSAY mirror moment. Boss Only knows how to make reflective work!

I love making the characters so sticker laden, thats exactly what 2022 felt like and it makes their insecurities starkly apparent when they attempt to cover them with vibrancy.

Google maps mention. So charming to have a show that cares to integrate technology as life.

Actually as springboard thats why i loved the blocking montage from earlier. Nothing is really over until youve released them from your circle and ousted them from your life, and robbing people of the ability to See You online is such a statement of intent even if you end up caving later on in person.

Finding someone on ig using the location tag. Okay this is getting real scurry.

Purposely liking someonee oldest pic to show interest is Nasty FIEND behavior. Run!!!!!!!

The stylization of the chargers just made my eyes well up with tears almost. Its indicative of how gently the production is treating their interior lives, everyones charger is different and vibrant just like their lives and these phones serve as points of contact to each other in more ways than one. Theyre gathered and theyre a Group.

Getting caught eavesdropping and watching through your phone so you pretend to take a photo. #real #beenthere #theyweretakingnotesfromme

Absolutely obsessed over the editing of this show, its as maximalist and overbearing as all feelings are in highschool. Emotions spill out of you at that age and the overbearing nature of them can be as blinding as all that neon and all these fast cuts.

Heard that this was filmed on phone and I love that in some scenes theres a conscious decision to allow it to be Phone Quality.

Chian is such a problem cryingggg

I really love how this show respects that social media is an extension of self for youth, and in doing so how it shows respect to a younger generation. A majority of highschool media now is created by those who had to come of age as technology became accessible without regard to how thats changed. Chian following Fou4mod is framed as a big deal because it is; if its not an exchange of accounts the act of following is never casual. You had to think of the person, find their account, and put yourself in the vulnerable position of being caught thinking of them. Online accounts as a barrier carry a weight thats often dismissed but this story cannot work without allowing this moment to have heft. If a follow is just a follow then situationships (like hes probably about to be in with Chian) cannot work, Chian showed his cards and made Fou4mod feel like he has less to lose because he took such an Important Step. Lesser shows have made fun of that step!

Thats all to say Chian is definitely a problem and he probably needs to get his ass whooped in the near future (^-^;

Chian barely follows anyone... hes true to this life unfortunately. My thoughts are with Fou4mod this is about to be a life altering relationship (Extremely Negative).

The iphone change has been taking me out like highschool really is about being a follower until youve carved an identity.

Watching it put to screen wow social media really did change dating into an intricate ritual bc i audibly groaned when he asked for the air drop... like no u cant be seen caring! Thats bad! We need to save the youth from this reality Every queer person must uninstall hinge now.

CHIAN IS SO SINISTER OMG SAVE FOU4MOD

"I'll let you know" "you can go first" girl i gotta turn this off now im breaking out in hives.

Playlist sharing to flirt... they were watching me edate in HS

I feel strangely emotional after watching that. There is such a dearth of television about the youth of people in mid genz who were in highschool or beginning uni during the pandemic. Every show produced and set in high school recently has been extremely nostalgic, set in a recent past, or almost out of time in a world where social media is not as important and COVID didnt fundamentally change communications and relationships as a whole.

As someone who spent a longer time in highschool than most people do, I dont think I've seen something so insightful since American Vandal. That show understood the slow nature of highschool in the later 2010s, it understood the uncomfortableness that lurks beneath your skin as a teenager and showcased it with that perpetually hazy and lazy filter that the soundcloud rap era felt like.

This show takes the exact opposite approach, COVID made all the teens and kids view technology As Them. A teenager in 2020 and 2021 was their phone because to take that away from them was to cut off any and all outside connection they had, something that was especially true for queer youth who already felt that alienation in their identity. Its lovely to see traces of that put to screen and treated with kindness, and it allows for the aesthetic maximalism to be justified through the sheer desperation they have to Truly Participate in life once again.

Really excited to watch this continue, I think its really funny how instead of ITSAYs longing and self flagellation (which was also extremely late 2010s) gelboys is fast moving and almost refuses to dwindle on their internal worlds so far, these teens just want to be out there doing things. The changed public life for kids directly after the pandemic and before the conservative pendulum swing is such a fun period to explore, I loved this first ep immensely.

[cursedfallingmoon]

Listen

Rory and reader dancing in the forest in the rising sun's light while they both him and the reader humming "Once Upon A Dream" softly as birds sing along all around them

Wfkysjiolc

I need it

- Anon💤

Who?: Rory

Type?: G/N Reader

Cw?: Possessiveness

A/n?: Sorry this was responded to so late! I got caught up in IRL stuff and my writer's block hit me so hard. Hope this is up to your expectations!!! Sorry for the weird ending, I wanted to fit the crows in from the first headcannons.

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Rory was enchanted by the person in front of him. Their eyes were beautiful under the orange hue of the setting sun. The two were in the very forest they had first met. Where Rory found his true love. Rory followed every move, every gesture. He let you lead him. The rustling of the trees added to the serenity of the moment. You were alone with him. Him! It had been a couple moons since you saved him from the eternal sleep he was victim too. Rory couldn't imagine not being able to see you for a hundred years. Nor could he live with himself if you had died. But those worries are far behind. He's here with you now.

The sky covered you both in a magical light. The rustling of trees slowed as Rory caught your voice. You were singing! Your voice was so soothing. He could fall asleep with just listening to you. You could say everything was okay, and he'd believe you without question. Your singing was even better.

"Once upon a Dream..."

Your voice was so alluring that even the birds started to sing the same tune. Rory held you tighter as you guided him through the dance. It was a fluid harmony between you two. He had been working on his dancing. After your first waltz during Rory's birthday party, he had been inspired to improve. You inspire him to do more. Right now, though, all he can focus on is you.

The sun continued to set, the birds singing along with you got a bit louder, and your eyes shined. Rory fell in love with you even more. If that was even possible.

This moment was perfect. His dream come true.

Rory found himself humming along with your tune. He made sure he harmonized with you. Rory felt safe. Loved. Like nothing could ever harm him. Nothing would take him out of this moment. As long as he had you in his arms, then he could be happy. He could be safe.

This started out as a simple picnic date. That was what this was meant to be. That alone was perfect. But when you held out your hand to Rory, and pulled him against your chest, the date became perfect. He would do anything to make this moment last forever. To be in your arms forever. Your chest, and your arms, were where he was meant to be. No other space was ever warm enough for Rory.

When the sun finally set over its horizon, Rory felt saddened. The moment with you was over. Slowly, the birds dispersed, leaving you the only one singing. It was haunting how it echoed. Rory's body broke out in chills. His dream slowly seeped into a nightmare. He didn't like it.

"Dear… It's getting late."

Rory felt so meek. Small. He hated it. His hands tightened around your back. Rory found himself pressing his body tighter against yours.

"Oh. I hadn't noticed. Your smile distracted me from the sun. I swear it's just as if not more blinding."

Rory's anxieties slowly eased out of him. You always knew what to say. How to make him feel better. That's why he adored you so much.

As you pulled away to clean up the picnic, or what was left of it, this sinking feeling made its way to his stomach. The vibrant birds that sang along with you were all replaced with crows. Their eyes never left you.

Rory crept closer to you, his hand missing your arms a few times before he managed to grasp it. You noticed his tremble. You gathered everything up from your outing in one arm, using the other that Rory was holding onto to steady his hand.

"Come now. Let's get you back into the castle. You must be exhausted."

Your voice pulled him out of his worry. He nodded slowly and remained close to you as you both made your way out of the forest.

"You will cuddle me when we get back, won't you? I want to remain closer to you, even if our dance ended."

Rory asked softly, even the evening winds could blow them away. You heard him, however. You always did.

"Of course."

Leaving the crows, and the eeriness the night brought, Rory and you returned to the castle. Even with the eerie ending, that moment with you will forever live in Rory's heart. Nothing will ever take it away.

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Property of @cursedfallingmoon! Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome! ₊ ⊹ . ݁

[fawtyy]

Valentines Day

Rafael Barba x fem! Reader

Warnings: established relationship, piv sex, oral (female receiving), foreplay, fluff after

Word count: 2k

Rafael Barba stuck the key in the door, pausing and laying his forehead on the cool wood. It was 11pm, on Valentines Day, and he was supposed to be home by 8.

You told him that morning of the plans you had. Exchange gifts, have dinner that you would make, and have the best sex of your lives. It stayed on Barba's mind all day. He could barley concentrate on his work, imagining how you would look. What you would wear. Would you curled the way he liked it? Would you wear the red lingerie he bought you?

God, he hoped so.

But a new case was dropped on his desk, and he got stuck at his office. A text was sent to you at 7:30, telling you he would only be 30 minutes late. Another text was sent at 8:30, apologizing and promising he'd be there by 9, 9:30 at the latest. By 10, he didn't even bother texting you. He knew you were upset and angry, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He already bought your gift and had it bagged up at home. A beautiful diamond necklace, one that you pointed out months ago while on a trip. On his way home, he picked up a bouquet of red roses, hoping to soften the blow that he knew was coming.

Taking one last breath, he twisted the key and pushed the door open, closing and locking it behind him. Turning around, he noticed the lights in the apartment were off, but candles were everywhere, burning brightly. Placing his briefcase on the chair, he looked down to see rose petals, a path to your shared bedroom.

As he passed the kitchen, he noticed how clean it was, like it hadn't been touched. Like you hadn't cooked at all. Barba took his coat and blazer off, laying them across a table chair, before following path of petals. Stopping at the closed door, he heard soft music coming from inside. Pushing it open, his brows raised and his jaw dropped.

There you were, sitting on the end of the bed. Your hair, just like he hoped, curled around your shoulders. The red lingerie looking incredible on you, your breast on full display for him. You were leaned back on the back, your hands holding you up. His eyes trailed down your body, his tongue darting out slightly as he kept going. "Like what you see counselor?"

Rafael's eyes shot back up to your face, makeup perfectly highlighting your beautiful features. A smirk was playing across your lips, lips he couldn't wait to get his own on. "Oh, hermosa, I am blinded by your beauty right now." Your smirk turned into a smile, pushing yourself off the bed and walking towards him. His eyes followed your every move, a smirk starting to tease his lips.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't be home by 8, so I took a risk. I didn't cook and set up the apartment." His eyes looked at the bed, rose petals scattered across it. "Are those for me?"

He only then remembered the flowers in his hands, quickly holding them up for you to grab. "Indeed they are. I thought it might gain me some browny points but I can see that they weren't needed."

Nodding, you smelt them before placing them on your table. "No, but they are beautiful. I love them." Turning back to Barba, he started walking to you, taking in every inch of skin on display. "I thought you might need a stress reliever tonight."

Loosening his tie, he pulled it off while a chuckle escaped his mouth. "Cariño, I need a stress reliever every night." You grinned while he held his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek. "I do believe I was promised the best sex of my life this morning. Or was that a lie too?"

Shaking your head, you pursed your lips while unbuttoning his dress shirt. "Oh, no baby. That, most definitely, was not a lie." Pushing the shirt past his shoulders, he shrugged it off, pulling the undershirt off as well.

Barba kicked his shoes off while you unbuckled his belt. He grabbed your hands, stopping your actions, causing you to become confused. "All I want you to do right now is get your pretty ass in that bed, and let me take care of you."

"But Raf-"

"Did I stutter?" You immediately stopped talking, a small smile playing along your lips. Walking to the bed, you swayed your hips, climbing onto the bed, your ass stuck in the air.

Turning over, you laid your head on the pillows, spreading your legs. "No sir, you did not."

Rafael's smirk became larger, his hands sliding his belt off and dropping on the ground. He didn't bother with his pants right now, opting to climb in the bed with you. He held himself up above you, taking in your beauty while you stared up at him. "You are breathtaking, do you know that?"

You shyly smiled. "You remind me everyday."

Smiling, Rafael leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss, going down on his forearms to get even closer. Your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to pull him closer. The kiss turned more heated, your tongues fighting in your mouth, teeth clashing as you let a moan slip out.

Falling on his side, Rafael pulled you to him on your side, quickly unlatching your bra and throwing it aside. Your breasts fell, Rafael immediately pushing himself down and capturing your nipple, sucking and biting at it. "Oh fuck, Rafa..."

His hand came up, pinching and rolling the other around, causing whimpers to fall from your mouth. Stopping his assault, he began kissing down your chest, sucking and licking around your naval while he pushed back on your back. Your breathing picked up as you watched him go further and further down. Once he got to the waistband on your thong, he looked up at you, making sure.

"Rafa, please."

That was all it took. He placed open mouthed kisses around your clothed pussy. His tongue darted out, licking through the fabric. You were getting frustrated and restless, hating the teasing. Rafael leaned up some and pulled the thong down your legs, throwing it behind him. Sitting up on his knees, he took in your bare body. You were exquisite, lying there and waiting for him to ravish you. Rubbing your thighs, he met your eyes, his lids low. "I am going to ruin you for any other man, if you ever decide you'll no longer have me. Are you ready for that, hermosa?"

Smirking, you nodded. "Beyond ready, counselor."

Rafael dove in, not being able to hold himself back anymore. The first stride had you gasping for air, on hand tangling in his hair and the other gripped the sheet. He held your legs on his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs. His mouth worked magic, eating like hadn't ate in weeks. He was starved and your pussy was the only thing that could please and fix that.

He added in two fingers, sucking at your clit and pulling away with a pop. He glanced up to watch you come undone. Your head was thrown back into the pillows, both hands now gripping the sheets while whimpers and moans fell from your mouth.

He pulled his mouth away while his fingers continued on, curling to hit that perfect stop. "Oh my god, oh my-fuck.."

He smiled, shaking his head. "Not god baby, not god ever. It will always be me."

Pushing and curling, he watched you release your orgasm, thighs shaking as he kept going. Your hand shot down to grab his before he gently gripped your wrist, pulling it back. Keeping his fingers in you, he pulled himself up to be face to face with you. "Who do you think you are to try and make me stop? Who's in charge here?" You couldn't stop moaning long enough to answer the question, until he paused his movements, watching your eyes open. "I asked a question."

"You Rafa, you're in charge."

He leaned down and placed light kisses on your neck. "You're goddamn right I am." It was whispered but you heard it, and it made you clench around his fingers, something he immediately noticed. "Oh, chica sucia, you are so in for it."

He placed a gentle kiss on your lips before moving back down to his knees. Unbuttoning his slacks, he slid them off, leaving him only his boxers. Sitting up, you caressed his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. One hand trailed down his neck and abdomen, stopping to play with his waistband. He pulled back for air while looking down at your sneaky hand. "Would he like some attention?"

Nodding, Rafael bit his lip to not smile too wide. "Oh, he would love some." Before slipping your hand in, you brought it back up to lick your wet tongue on your palm, watching Rafael's eyes darken with lust. You gripped the base of his cock, slowly moving your hand up and down, teasing his tip each time. "Oh fuck, Y/n..."

Hearing Rafael moan out your name filled you with pride, it did every time. His moans were always so pretty and he didn't always let them slip. "Do you like that baby?" He nodded, his face falling to the crook of your neck, lips sucking bruises that you'll have to hide the next few days. "You know what I'd like?" Feeling him shake his hand, you got close enough to whisper in his ear. "You taking away my ability to walk."

Not a second went by as he pushed you to lay back down, staring at you with hooded lids. "Ask and you shall receive, querida."

Sliding his boxers down, you watched his pretty cock spring out. Rafael wasn't just long, he was thick. You've had sex with him so many times, and it still stretches you everytime.

Rafael pulls your legs, pulling down the bed, and places your ankles on his shoulders. He took his tip, rubbing it around your slit before lining himself up. Watching your face, he slowly pushed in, inch by inch, your face scrunching up in slight pain. "Shh shh shh, mi amor, it'll all be okay." He bottomed out and you gasped slightly, gripping the sheets. "Just say when."

Waiting a few seconds, you nodded and he moved his hips back, sliding his cock along your warm, wet walls. He stopped at the tip, before slowly moving back in. After doing this for a couple strides, the pain turned into pleasure, moans spilling out. Rafael took that as his cue to speed up, causing your moans to grow louder. You clenched around his cock, causing him to hiss but keep his rhythm. "You don't come until I do."

Your moan got mixed with a whine. "Rafa I can't-"

"You can and you will." He sped up, feeling his own orgasm building up. Grabbing your thighs, he bent your legs, your knees side your ears. The new position made it even more difficult to hold off, being able to feel everything. "Fuck Y/n, how do you get tighter every time?" One of your hands gripped his forearm, nails sliding down and you tried to hold it in. Rafael was about to bust any second. "Come ángel, come around my cock."

You wanted to scream with satisfaction as your second orgasm washed over you, Rafael following behind. You felt his cum shoot and cover your gooey walls, a groan coming from his mouth as his head was thrown back. You stayed like that, both of you catching your breaths.

Rafael pulled your legs down, gently placing them on the bed as he laid on top of you. He placed light kisses along your cheek and neck, your hand mixing in his hair. "You did so good, mi amor, tan buena..."

You smiled and kissed the top of his head, rubbing his upper arm. "Happy Valentines Day, handsome."

Rafael lifted his head up, smiling as he kissed your lips. "Best day of my life."

[cece693]

hello! i absolutely adore your writing for hannibal!! i was wondering if i could request yan! hannibal x reader who is aware of hannibals facade he puts on for others but not of his true nature. perhaps reader feels insecure in their relationship as they have a hard time telling whethe or not the facade his kept up between them as well? reader does not understand how deep hannibals devotion truly goes... perhaps with smut if youre up for it!! thank you so much, apologies if this was a bit of a loaded one!

Are We Real?

pairing: hannibal lecter x gender neutral reader tags: themes of sex/smut but nothing too graphic, hannibal's half truths and lies, reader is blind to hannibal's hobbies, they do love each other, hannibal isn't ready yet to reveal his whole self, will prolong this because he kinda wants the reader to stay away from his darkness

You know the exact moment Hannibal’s eyes settle on you from across the room. There is a certain gravity to his gaze that no amount of polite banter or refined charm can hide. You sense it even when he’s smiling benignly at a colleague or glancing at a passing waiter. Your relationship with him has been a series of carefully choreographed dance steps—fluid, hypnotic, and still somehow laced with an undercurrent you can’t quite name.

What you do know is that Hannibal Lecter puts on a facade for others. He presents himself as a well-mannered gentleman, the perfect host and brilliant psychiatrist. There’s an elegance in his every step, a graceful precision that makes you wonder if his entire being is a meticulous composition. You’ve seen him entertain guests in his lavish home, that impeccable façade never faltering. You admire it, even when it disconcerts you.

And yet, you sense something more behind his polished exterior—like smoke curling beneath a locked door. You’ve been close enough to feel the heat but have never glimpsed the flames that feed it. It leaves you in doubt. You’re not naïve; you realize he is a man with secrets. Still, you don’t understand how profoundly they run. You only know that the devotion he shows you—beautiful, patient, and intense—feels real, even if your insecurities whisper otherwise.

Tonight, the firelight in Hannibal’s study paints warm hues against the walls. You sip a drink from an ornate crystal glass as Hannibal’s fingers trace a light path along the nape of your neck. There is no one else in the house; the last guest left hours ago, no doubt charmed by the evening’s tasteful conversation and exquisite meal. You can still feel the buzz from the wine, or perhaps it’s from the press of Hannibal’s body close to yours.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks, voice carrying its usual gentle confidence.

You tilt your head, leaning slightly back so you can see his face. His eyes skim over you carefully, always reading and analyzing, though you know he’d never say it so plainly. “You,” you admit softly. “I can’t always tell when you’re being genuine. You have this…way about you.”

His expression doesn’t flicker; Hannibal’s composure is as still as a sculpture. “In what way?”

You hesitate. “I know how you are with other people. It’s like you put on a mask. I just—” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Sometimes I’m afraid that mask is there when we’re together, too.”

He moves behind you with such grace you barely sense the shift. His hand drifts from your shoulder to the small of your back, fingertips ghosting along your shirt’s fabric. You exhale shakily, aware of his presence more than ever. Hannibal’s voice resonates in your ear, low and sure. “I would never insult you by offering anything but my truth. Perhaps my truth is simply more guarded than most.”

He turns you by the shoulders to face him. The proximity makes your breath catch. “I do wear masks,” he confesses, “but only so that I can navigate a world that might not appreciate the depths of my true self.”

It’s a strange, cryptic admission. Part of you wants to probe further, to question him about what he truly means. Another part is appeased by the sincerity in his gaze, the gentleness of his voice, the way his hands settle on your hips.

Before you can formulate a response, Hannibal’s mouth brushes over yours. The kiss begins soft—testing, almost cautious. It’s as though he wants to ensure you accept him, which you do without hesitation. Your arms slide around his waist, drawing him in closer, wanting that reassurance that he is here, truly with you in this moment. He tastes of fine wine and the lingering spices from dinner. Each movement of his lips is smooth, meticulous, yet surging with an undercurrent of passion. Hannibal is skillful at everything, and kissing is no exception. Your head reels, heart pounding in your chest. For this small window of time, you are the only person in his universe.

Your insecurities fade ever so slightly, replaced by a warmth that starts in your chest and flows through your veins. His lips move along your jaw, pressing small, heated kisses down to your neck. His hands slide beneath your shirt, palms ghosting across your skin in a way that sends shivers rippling through you.

He whispers your name, soft and reverent, against your throat. You lean into the sound as though it might slip away if you don’t hold on tight. “Come with me,” he murmurs. It’s not a request; it’s a promise. He takes your hand and leads you down the darkened hallway to his bedroom, a space usually locked from the prying eyes of visitors. The door closes behind you with a quiet click, and the rest of the world disappears.

Your breaths mingle in the dim light as Hannibal slips out of his jacket, hanging it neatly. Everything he does is methodical, a routine so practiced it’s almost ritualistic. You begin to unbutton your shirt, but his fingers stop you. He looks at you, and for a fleeting second, the mask he wears for everyone else seems to vanish entirely.

“We can shed more than our clothes tonight,” he says, voice laced with meaning. “If you’d allow me.”

You swallow, unsure whether that statement should comfort or unnerve you—but something inside you wants more. You nod, letting him take the lead. His hands are gentle but firm as he undoes each button of your shirt. You watch his face; for the first time, you catch the glimmer of something undeniably fervent in his eyes. It’s an unsettling intensity, yet you feel no fear—only fascination, arousal, and a sense of being deeply wanted.

He slides your shirt off and leans in to kiss you again. Slowly, languidly, Hannibal makes sure every inch of you is kissed, touched, worshipped. His mouth travels down your chest, pressing reverent kisses along your skin. You’re guided onto the bed in a graceful dance: Hannibal’s arms cradle you, preventing any graceless stumble.

Beneath him, you can’t help but arch your body upward, craving any ounce of contact he’ll spare. When his hand slips beneath your waistband, the sharp inhale you take betrays your excitement. His fingers brush the sensitive skin there, and you gasp at the electric spark.

He is thorough—everything with Hannibal is thorough, from the care he takes with each article of clothing to the methodical way he traces over your skin. In his eyes, you see desire, yes, but also something that looks alarmingly like possession. A part of you wonders if you should be afraid of that fierce devotion. Another part finds it dizzyingly irresistible.

Hannibal kisses you deeply, swallowing your soft moans, his own breathing labored and intense. The space between your bodies narrows with every shift of his hips, until there is nothing but heat and friction. You cling to him, nails lightly digging into his back as he angles himself in a way that sends delicious sparks coursing through your core. There is no doubt about his passion—his unspoken devotion. With each thrust of his body, each exhalation of your name, he offers wordless proof that, here in this moment, you and he are the only reality.

When release finally comes, it washes over you in a shuddering wave, your lips parted in a silent cry against his shoulder. You feel his grip on you tighten, as if he’d fuse your bodies together if he could. His own climax follows, and for a few long, breathtaking moments, you can feel the steady hammer of his heart racing as wildly as yours.

The room is dark and quiet. Your breaths gradually even out, and your limbs feel pleasantly heavy under the silky sheets. Hannibal presses a tender kiss to your forehead before sliding away just enough to meet your gaze. There’s a charged silence, broken only by the faint hum of the city outside. You turn on your side to face him. Your mind stirs with questions—about him, about the future, about the masks he wears for the rest of the world.

Hannibal studies your features, a peculiar softness in his expression. “You have always seen more than most,” he says finally, voice barely above a whisper. “Yet you do not run. For that, I am grateful.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he raises a hand to gently cup your cheek.

“I will not ask for your blind trust. That would be unfair.” He sighs, a small, almost weary sound. “My nature is complex. But you must believe me when I say my feelings for you are entirely real. I would sooner do harm to myself than allow harm to come to you.”

His intensity stirs something deep within you. Part of you is still in the dark about what lies at the core of Hannibal’s being. But you see nothing but sincerity in his eyes. You remember the evenings spent in quiet companionship, the affectionate gestures he bestows with careful intention, and the unwavering attention he grants you in crowded rooms. You nestle closer to him, pressing your body against the warmth of his. You choose to believe in his words—for tonight, at least. You will let yourself feel assured that his devotion is genuine, even if it’s wrapped in the many layers of a man who is far from ordinary.

As Hannibal slides an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, you rest your head against his chest. The steady beat of his heart lulls you into a sense of peace. With each breath, you begin to let go of the nagging doubts. In the end, you decide, whatever mask Hannibal wears for others, the version of him in your arms feels achingly real. And for now that is enough.

[vulpixisananimal]

[A:4 C:70]

(Ramos) [Alex] {Nihil} |Jasmine| <Altiare> 

(You were headed to bed when it happened.)

(You were just making sure all the doors were closed and locked when you turned to see Siffrin staring at you at the base of the stairs. You jumped a little, and asked him if he was alright, and the next thing you knew, you were pinned against a wall, dagger to your neck.)

“Why!?!” (The rogue hissed.) “Why, just why!”

“W-wha-” (Your tongue was freezing up.) “Do, you-”

“Why aren’t you afraid of us?!?” (They whispered with venom on their tongue.) “We killed you, I killed you! You should be angry, scared, vengeful, but you’re not!”

(You stare at him as he continues to talk.) “You died for a month, you came back cracked into pieces, and your whole world flipped upside down! Why don’t you hate me!!!”

“I-I. . .” (You couldn't talk.)

“Because, because I sure want to hate you!!!”

(. . .) “. . . S-saffron-”

“No.” (The dagger gets tighter against your neck.) “Don’t talk to me, you don’t need to talk, I don’t want you to talk! I just want you to be the villain again!!!”

“Because back then it was so much simpler! Oh the big bad defender is hurting my family and now I get to be the savior again! I get to have my family back! Just for one blinding moment I get to HAVE THEM BACK!”

“W-wh--” (You try to talk again, you couldn’t.)

“I worked so hard, little trainee, I worked so hard! And you’re here, and you’re here and you’re just accepted!”

“It’s not fair, IT’S NOT. FAIR.”

(They’re shaking.)

“I want to hate you so much. I want to tear your guts out and wear them around my neck. I want to pluck out your eye and put it where mine used to be. I want to tear out that throat and use that voice that everyone seems to like! But I can’t! I can't, I just can’t!!!”

“I just, can’t.”

“I can’t. And I don’t know why, but I just can't. . .”

(. . . . . . . . . . You shakily raise an arm, and, put it on Saffron's shoulder. They flinch away, you feel the dagger closer, then, pulled away, slowly. You feel droplets of blood trickle down your neck. You put your other arm on them.)

(Suddenly, Saffron hugs you, and hugs you tight.)

(. . . . . You’re not sure how long the two of you stayed like that, Saffron crying into your shirt. Eventually, they pulled away again, putting that fake smile back in place.)

“. . . Ramos.”

“U-uh. . .” (You rub your shoulder.) “. . . Yes, S-saffron?”

“Could I please stab you?”

(That takes you by surprise.) “W-wha-- Huh?!?!”

“I’ve had a terrible week and need to tear someone apart. I’ll loop right back after, you won’t remember a thing, deal?” (They were still smiling.) “. . . Please?”

“I. . .” (You blinked, then sank down a bit. The thought of that is both horrifying, and. . . Something else the opposite of horrifying.) “O-okay but, you can, also talk about it i-if I’m not going to remember.”

“. . . Thank you, but no. I think I’ll just kill you.” (You felt a sharp pain in your gut. Looking down, Saffron had casually plunged their dagger into your stomach. You look up at him again, wide eyed. He just smiled.) “Thanks, I really needed this.”

>>> <<< >>> <<< >>> <<<

{I. Told. You.}

(You had a migraine. You’re in the bathroom, hands on the sink, looking into the mirror. That, that, that was. . .)

{A piece of memory. Recovered from Saffron. When they were staring at you from the base of the stairs. I knew something was wrong. When you touched their face I snuck inside.}

(You, y-you can’t just, DO that!)

{I can.}

(A-and, and that was, was a memory of. . . W-well, Saffrons perspective of something that happened, but they looped back on?)

{Yes.}

(What about Bonnie?!? Won't they realize they looped???)

{I don’t know. Saffron will have an excuse.}

(Great. You run some water and splash it on your face. Saffron wasn’t doing well, that was obvious, but it had been getting worse. Everyone has been getting worse really, well, except for you. Why aren’t you being affected like Mal du Pays and Refoulement are?)

{I am better. Then they are.}

(Great. You dry off your face. What was that thing Saffron was talking about anyway, get their family back? For just one moment? Like they lost them. Well, apparently Loop was a separate person, star headed, who helped Siffrin through the loops. It stands to reason that Saffron, someone in Loops subsystem, is in the same boat, so what does that mean for. . .)

{. . .}

(. . . . . What is it?)

{Nothing.}

(It’s not nothing, Nihil. You’re hiding something from me.)

{For. Good. Reason. Not for me to say.}

(Okay, fine. You leave the bathroom and head to your room. Stars, that was. . . You shake your head. You had no memory of being stabbed, no idea what you were thinking at the time, but to see it happen through Saffron’s eyes. . . W-well, you’re glad you don’t remember your point of view.)

(Crab you needed to sleep)

>>> >>> >>>

“So, what do we know?”

[Odile’s open ended question rang through the living room. The whole party was here, and you had a large map spread out on the living room table. Today's subject was simple; the Monets.]

[You tapped Wolworth on the map.] “We know they both live here, and that Percival was raised in Poteria here.” [You pointed to another town on the map, deeper into Poteria.] “Irvum, where the Monet estate is.”

“I thought they got ruined by that book Perci published.” [Isabeau asks, leaning in curiously.]

“Well as it turns out, that doesn’t mean much when you are rich.” [Odile responds with a sarcastic tone of voice.] “The Monets still have their wealth, they just won’t be seen at many public events for a while.”

“Boooo.” 

“Yeah I know Izza.” [You shrug.] “Anyways, he wrote his first book under a pseudonym here, and then here, and here. . .” [You start marking a trail of the locations Perci wrote about, until he abruptly stopped writing for a few years.]

“I’m guessing he was writing as he went to each country?” [Asked Nille, you nodded.] “Lucky,  he left us a paper trail.”

“Quite.” [Odile nods.] “His last publication was a relatively small book on a town in Ich. From what I can gather, the book ends rather abruptly, rushed, even.”

“. . . Wait a second.” [Mirabelle peered at the map.] “His first book was on Mwudu, and he’s from Poteria, so he would have probably gone right through Vaugarde. So why wasn’t it a book on that?”

“Good question.” [You tap your pen to your chin.] “The Monets were dangerous people. . . And Perci doesn’t seem to like them at all. . .”

“He ran away.” [Nille says flatly.] “I know I woulda.”

“True. . .” [Mirabelle closed her eyes for a moment, thinking.] “. . . He knows about Vaugardian culture, I know that. So he must have run away to Vaugarde and didn’t want to publish things that might be more personal!”

“The issue is we don’t know when he ran away or where too.” [You shake your head.] “As an adult he might look for a place to study, as a child he could have gone anywhere. We just don’t know.”

“Well let’s look at something else, then.” [Isabeau tapped the Ichian Isles.] “What do you think made him stop so suddenly here?”

“That would be just over nine years ago.” [Odile rubs her head.] “I’m. . . Not sure. Ich used to be a colony of Poteria, but that was a long time ago.”

“Then a few years later he pops up with a manifesto against his own family under his own name, then starts publishing history with he and Merlon's name.” [You pinch the bridge of your nose.] “Then they keep doing that until a little over a year ago, when the King attacks.”

“Then they rush to Vaugarde, hoping to find a way of bringing home back.” [Siffrin mumbles the words out.]

“Once we beat the King they head into Vaugarde, go to Jouvente first, and meet Ramos.” [Isabeau continued.]

“Ramos make the stupidest deal in history, and I, we, get mentally buried, and we all know the rest.” [You huff.] “Stars, that's not a lot to go on.”

“How’s this help again?” [Bonnie asks from the depths of their cloak. They’ve refused to take it off.]

“Know thy enemy so you can better taunt them or something.” [You shrug.] “It might give us a better idea of where they might go next.”

“If they go anywhere at all.” [Odile adds. After all, they wanted Siffrins memories.]

“. . . What about Merlon?” [Siffrin was staring at the map.] “We know those two were together at least seven years ago, and before that she could have been anywhere. Then three years earlier, well. . .” [The island disappeared.]

“. . . Why did she call you Stargazer?” [Mirabelle asks.] 

“It’s. . .” [He furrowed his brow, thinking.] “Something, a, term for. . . Someone who looks to the stars. Or training to be, be an. . .”

“Don’t push yourself. Does she remind you of anyone?” [Isabeau encourages, Siffrin pauses for a moment, thinking. . . .] 

“. . . . . The, Head Housemaiden.” [He finally responds.] “Or, o-or that, kind of, authority. Someone I would, would. . .”

“Someone you’d look to for guidance?” [Mirabelle suggests.] “O-or someone who knows about the Universe! M-maybe she has to do with making wishes? I know Euphraise does a lot of work helping people with Changing and all.”

“That’s it!” [Siffrin snaps their fingers.] “Asterion felt that kind of, of authority when he met them, they’re, they’re an astronomer!” 

“That explains the wild craft she used.” [Isa rubbed his shoulder.] “That hurt.”

“Y-yeah. . .” 

“. . . If their goal is to bring the island back, is there any way we could dissuade them?” [You ask.]

“No.” [Siffrins answer is instant.]

“. . . No?”

“I’ve seen that look before.” [He shuddered.] “They won’t stop.”

[. . . . . . . There’s a tense silence.]

“. . . . So.” [Odile breaks it.] “These are our antagonists. Perci and Merlon Monet. Minds and Wishes.”

“They’re not to be trusted.” [You continue.] “They will lie and deceive, use mind craft to trick you, and, most dangerous of all, they’ll be earnest.”

“Try to stick together, if one of you gets controlled, the other needs to find Siffrin to let him know what happened, or, failing that, find Bonnie.”

“And that’s not even going into whoever’s causing all those. . . Nightmares.” [Nille shudders.] “And you’re sure it’s not Perci?”

“I’m pretty sure.” [You put a hand to your head.] “So, that’s our goal. Stop the Monets with whatever they’re doing, find out who’s crabbing up our heads, and try and relax.”

“Sounds good!”

“Got it.”

“HA! Relax, funny joke.”

“Well we’ll try our best.”

“I’ll make something nice for dinner, if that helps.”

“That sounds great, Bonbon!”

“So is that all?”

“Well apart from getting Siffrins prescriptions, that’s all! Meeting adjourned!”

“Whoop!!”

“Yay!!!”

“Now if you excuse me, Alex, would you mind helping me with something?”

“Of course, madame.” 

“Heh, have fun you two.”

“Oh shut it.”

[nexiva]

You made me hate you

Part 6

Bucky x reader

Warnings: If you squint your eyes, there is a little bit of fluff in this one, angst ofc and swearing as usual.

Summary: Bucky has a nightmare🙂‍↔️

A/N: Soo another cliffhanger in this part (maybe you can figure out what is it? Not hard to guess because I love to read classics with Bucky fics haha) Enjoy!

Masterlist

The silence of the night was comforting at first. The steady hum of the air conditioning, the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the blinds—it was peaceful. My body ached from the day's training, but the exhaustion was almost welcome. Sleep pulled at me insistently, and soon enough, I drifted off.

But something stirred me from the depths of slumber.

A muffled sound. Low, almost inaudible, but enough to jolt me awake.

At first, I thought it was part of my dream. But then it came again—a strangled, desperate sound. My heart pounded as I sat up, blinking through the darkness.

It was coming from the room next to mine.

Barnes.

I swung my legs off the bed, hesitating for just a moment. What the hell is going on? Did I really care enough to check on him? After everything?

But the sound came again, raw and broken. My stomach twisted.

I crept out of my room and down the hall, pausing outside his door. It was slightly ajar, and through the gap, I could see him thrashing in his bed, tangled in the sheets, his face contorted in anguish.

“No...” he mumbled, his voice cracking. “Please... no...”

It wasn’t just a bad dream. It was a nightmare. The kind that doesn’t let go even when you wake up.

I froze, unsure of what to do. Wake him? Leave him be? What am I a night nurse? My mind was at war with itself. I was about to turn around and call for Steve but then he gasped, bolting upright with a strangled cry, his chest heaving. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and his eyes were wild, lost.

Without thinking, I pushed the door open.

“Hey…”

His head snapped toward me, breathing ragged and harsh. For a moment, he looked like he didn’t even recognize me.

“It’s me,” I said softly, staying near the door, giving him space. He ran a trembling hand through his damp hair, his metal arm clenching the sheet tightly.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered, his voice rough and broken.

“Yeah, I should probably swap rooms with Rogers.” I smiled a bit. Why the hell did I smile?

No response from him. Silence hung between us, heavy and awkward.

I should leave, I thought. But my feet didn’t move.

“Are you okay?” I asked quietly, cursing myself the second the words left my mouth. Stupid question.

He let out a bitter chuckle that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah. Just peachy.”

I sighed. Why am I not coming back to my room? I’m not responsible for him. What was wrong with me?

For a second there, it felt like time froze. Like maybe, just maybe, the distance between us wasn’t so insurmountable after all.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

I gave him a small nod and turned to leave. Finally. No smiles this time. Pull yourself together.

“Y/N,” he called out softly.

I stopped but didn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

Instead, I made my way back to my room, my mind swirling with questions and emotions I wasn’t ready to face.

Back in my room, I closed the door softly, leaning against it with a heavy sigh. My heart was still racing, not from fear, but from... something else. I didn’t know what to feel. Bucky Barnes was infuriating, complicated, and impossible to read. But seeing him like that, so vulnerable and haunted, stirred something in me I wasn’t ready to confront.

I climbed back into bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind restless. His apology echoed in my head, mingling with the memories of the day. Did he mean it? Or was it just the exhaustion talking?

I hated how my chest ached for him. Hated how I wanted to fix something I didn’t even understand.

Sleep felt distant now. I turned onto my side, wondering what the hell was going on in his head. Was it anything like what was in mine? It didn’t matter. It never did. It still doesn’t.

Nat once told me that when I was younger, I used to scream at the top of my lungs in the middle of the night. Thankfully, the nightmares eventually faded. Or at least that’s what I told everyone. I never really gave it much thought. Maybe Barnes and I weren’t so different after all?

Oh god. Where was this coming from? I couldn’t let myself think that way. I hated that motherfucker. No matter how vulnerable he might have seemed. I didn’t care.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I didn’t sleep that night and let me tell you things only got weirder from now on. Me and Barnes barely crossed paths. Days passed, and though we lived under the same roof, it felt as though an invisible wall had formed between us. Training schedules never seemed to overlap, missions kept apart, and even during meals, one always found an excuse to leave before the other arrived. But it was everything I was asking for, right? To never see him again.

It wasn’t until a quiet afternoon in the main common room that we somehow found ourselves in the same space. I sat curled up on the couch, lost in the pages of a book, the soft hum of the refrigerator and faint distant chatter the only sounds around.

I barely noticed when Bucky entered the room. It was rare to see him when I wasn’t expecting it. He stood there for a moment, his usual sarcastic remark seemingly on the tip of his tongue. But it never came.

Instead, his expression softened, and before I could even react, he turned around and left just as quickly as he had come.

I blinked, confused, heart racing for reasons I didn’t want to acknowledge.

Later that evening, as I sat in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee, Sam slid into the seat across from me with his signature grin.

“So… what gives?” he asked casually, though his eyes were filled with curiosity.

I raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on,” Sam chuckled. “You and Barnes. Haven’t seen you two bite each other’s heads off in days. Did I miss something?”

“There’s nothing to miss,” I replied, perhaps too quickly. “We’re just busy?” I rolled my eyes at him.

“Busy avoiding each other,” Sam shot back with a knowing smirk. “Seriously, it’s weird. One minute you’re ready to kill each other, next minute it’s radio silence.”

I sighed, and ran a hand through my hair. “Give me a break Wilson, not everything revolves around our arguments.”

Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but whatever it is, it’s throwing off the whole dynamic. You know how much I love the front-row seat to your fights.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to the peace and quiet.”

“Good,” Sam grinned. “But, uh… you might not have much of a choice anyway. Nick just called. Conference room. All of us. Now.”

I groaned, finishing the last sip of my coffee. “Great. Just what I needed.”

“Guess you can’t avoid him forever,” Sam teased as they both stood up.

“Oh shut the fuck up, pleasee.” I muttered with a glare as Sam smiled viciously, the two of us making our way slowly to the meeting. Little did I know, another surprise was waiting just around the corner.

[crowleyholmes]

Ashamed of my country today. The Austrian government may not see that what's happening in Gaza is not Israel "defending itself", but senseless, merciless slaughter of innocents and a cold blooded genocide, but I assure you, WE SEE IT. We austrians see it. And we stand with you. There are protests happening here. We're TRYING to organise demonstrations, but it's all getting shut down by police and government. I was planning to go to a protest today but AGAIN it got postponed. God. We see you. We see what's happening.